The Surrender: Falling In Part 18

"Hi, Tamara. Are you busy?"

Her GM pushed aside a salad she was mixing at her desk. "Of course not. What's up?"

Scout stepped into the plain office and fidgeted with the slip of paper her schedule had been printed on. "I wanted to talk to you about my workload."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Is ten hours too much?"

"Oh, no. I . . . the hours are fine. If you needed me more I could do more. I was actually wondering why my roster's been so light."

She had the grace to blush. "Um, Mr. Patras said that you . . . I mean . . ." She sighed. "I'm kind of in a weird position here, Scout. Mr. Patras is my boss's boss's boss. What he says goes."

"And he told you I wasn't supposed to have more than a certain amount of a.s.signments in a day?"

Her expression validated her a.s.sumption. "I'm sorry."

Scout pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's not your fault. I'll talk to him."

When she returned to the penthouse, she was exhausted. Her stomach felt like it was slowly imploding it was so empty. Starvation was something she'd always tolerated, but since she'd been eating better, when it did hit, it hit with a vengeance. She was so hungry the thought of food made her frustrated and ill. She just wanted to sleep.

Lucian was at his desk when she came in. He tucked away what he was working on and stood.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," he said with a smile.

Scout put her bag on the floor and met him at the seating area. He kissed her cheek with restrained affection and she sat. "I need to talk to you too."

Her body sunk into the plush sofa, and her spine seemed to melt. She eased her head back and shut her eyes. Wearily she said, "Lucian, you can't tell my boss I can only clean so many rooms. Do you realize that maids make tips? The less rooms I clean the less tip money I earn."

"I hadn't thought about that. It doesn't matter anyway." She peeked through one eye at him. He wore a satisfied grin.

Dryly, she asked, "Why doesn't it matter, Lucian?"

"Because you've been promoted." He seemed quite pleased with himself.

She sat up. It took a lot of effort.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but she had to ask anyway. "What do you mean 'promoted'?"

"Next Wednesday you start your new job at the front desk. You won't have to clean, the pay is better, and I'll know where you are in case I need to find you for some reason."

"Oh, Lucian, no . . ." All she saw in her mind were the computers that lined the counter and the pages printing from the machines and the receipts sliding back and forth. All things she didn't know how to use, all things that required a person to be literate. "I can't do that job."

"Why not? It's easy."

"For you maybe. Lucian, I don't know how to use computers. I'd have to answer phones and . . . I'm sorry. I know you meant well, but I can't accept the offer."

"Evelyn, they'll train you. You'll learn-"

"Lucian, no. I'm not taking it."

"You're being stubborn. You're exhausted from cleaning all day-"

"I'm exhausted from thinking up things to do all day. I only had four rooms to do. Do you know how slow my day moves when I have nothing on my schedule? You need to tell Tamara to give me my old a.s.signments back."

Rather than argue, he softly ran the pad of his thumb under her eye. "You look wiped. Did you sleep well last night?"

Scout wasn't used to him being so attentive to her comforts. "I'm just hungry."

"What did you eat for breakfast?"

"Nothing."

He scowled. "Did you have lunch?"

"I haven't eaten since I was at the shelter."

"That was twenty hours ago, Evelyn! You need to eat."

"That'd be great, Lucian, but there isn't always food."

He stood and picked up the phone. His finger punched down on a number. "That's bulls.h.i.+t and you know it. I told you I've arranged for you to have a credit here at the hotel. If you're hungry there's no excuse for you to starve. Yes, this is Lucian Patras. Send up some toast, eggs, and fresh honeydew wrapped in prosciutto. I'd also like a basket of nonperishables brought to my room every few days as well. Thank you."

He hung up the phone. "Why didn't you say something?"

Her shoulders shrugged. Scout was used to taking care of herself. She was responsible for herself. It didn't feel right going to someone else about her needs despite all her soul-searching thoughts and acceptances of her relations.h.i.+p with Lucian.

Scout changed the subject. "How was your business brunch?"

"Good." His gaze was unfocused for a moment. He seemed distracted as he smiled. "It was really good."

Lucian had all of her belongings brought up to his suite and moved to the guest room closet while they had both been gone. When she went to change and didn't come right back, he found her frowning at the closet.

"What's wrong?"

"All I have to wear are gowns and fancy clothes. It's weird dressing up just to sit around."

He left and returned a minute later with a b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt. "Here, wear this."

She changed into his s.h.i.+rt and dug out a pair of thick wool socks from her bag. The s.h.i.+rt swallowed her, coming to her knees. Rolling the sleeves back several times, she sighed. When she came back into the common area the food had arrived.

"Aren't you eating?"

"I'm still full from brunch."

Scout picked at the toast and the fluffy eggs. Her stomach was hollow so everything she put in it landed in a way that made her painfully aware of its emptiness. When she couldn't stomach any more, she put her fork down. Lucian was sitting on the edge of the sofa, reading over some papers.

He looked at her plate. "You didn't eat enough."

"I can't stomach any more right now."

He frowned and pulled her to his side. His hand glided over her back and slowly undid her bun. As he read his paperwork, his fingers unconsciously stroked her hair. She sunk into his side, her head slowly lowering and her lashes growing very heavy. Drifting off, he continued to hold her, as if her presence brought him as much comfort as his brought her.

Chapter 20.

Cold The shrill ring of the phone awoke Scout from her nap. Lucian's hand rested over her hip and her head was using his thigh as a pillow.

"Patras," he said quietly, answering the phone.

Scout remained quiet and listened as the room came into focus.

He sighed. "Who is it? And what did he say?" He was quiet a moment. "She's resting." The sound of papers being rustled and placed aside was followed by a sigh. "Put him at my table at the restaurant. On my tab. We'll be down shortly."

The call ended and he brushed her hair away from her face. "Evelyn, we have to go somewhere."

Scout slowly sat up and swept her hair out of her eyes. "Okay. What should I wear?"

"Just something casual. Can you be ready soon?"

In the guest room she selected a pair of slim boot-cut corduroys, a brown camisole, and a tweed burgundy jacket. After slipping on a pair of beige death heels, she shrugged on her coat.

Lucian came into the room, dressed in a power suit and looking fiercely intimidating. She took in his outfit.

"You said casual."

"This is as casual as I get for things like this. You won't need your coat. We aren't leaving the hotel."

They took the elevator down to the lobby and Lucian kept his hand at her back as they walked toward Vogue, the hotel bar and restaurant. A hostess greeted them and announced that Lucian's party was waiting.

They followed the hostess's serpentine route and arrived at a secluded back corner of the restaurant reserved for private affairs.

Scout gasped, "Parker!"

Parker stood against the wall in his scarf and tattered sweater, looking like a rakish model. His soft jade eyes appeared worried and relief was clear on his face the moment he spotted them. He narrowed his eyes at Lucian, and Lucian's protective hand at her back slid to her hip possessively.

"Mr. Hughes," Lucian greeted, and she wondered how he knew Parker's last name.

Parker ignored the greeting and took her hands. "Scout, are you okay?" He shot Lucian an accusing glare.

"Let's sit. I'm afraid Evelyn slept through lunch so we'll call this an early dinner. Evelyn." Lucian held out a chair, nodding for her to sit.

They sat and Parker reluctantly followed suit.

"To what do we owe this pleasure, Mr. Hughes?"

A waitress silently handed each of them menus. Parker pushed his aside and eyed Lucian skeptically. "I wanted to make sure she's okay."

"Evelyn is quite well as you can see for yourself." She frowned as they talked over her as if she were incapable of answering for herself.

"What do you want with her?"

"That's none of your business," Lucian said as he put aside his menu.

"Uh, h.e.l.lo? I'm right here." Being the subject up for discussion, it would be nice if someone acknowledged her presence.

"You can't buy her or whatever you think you're doing," Parker hissed.

Lucian chuckled. "True, but only because I can't afford her. She's priceless and in case she hasn't told you, she's not for sale."

"Is this a joke?" Parker asked. "I'm serious. She won't let you take advantage of her."

"How charming, Evelyn, you have yourself quite a little champion here."

Parker's eyes narrowed. Muscles in his strong jaw twitched. "You think you're untouchable. You think you intimidate me with your nice clothes and fancy hotel? You don't. That c.r.a.p won't impress Scout either. She's too smart to fall for all your glitz and arrogance."

The waitress returned. Parker sat back, apparently intending to order nothing and Lucian said, "The three of us will have the sirloin, prepared medium rare, the arugula salad with pecans, and the sauteed asparagus."

The waitress took the menus. "Very good, Mr. Patras."

"I'm not eating," Parker announced with stubborn pride.

"Don't be a fool, Mr. Hughes. You're starving. I suspect you haven't had a meal like this in years. Don't cut off your nose to spite your face."

"You're an arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Patras."

Scout had heard enough. "Will you two stop it? Parker's my friend, Lucian. If you can't be polite, I'm going back to the room. Parker, I'm perfectly fine and here of my own free will."

The hurt that filled Parker's eyes made her look away.

"I see." He stood and the way his body turned, she noticed how slender his hips were. She imagined Lucian's body and noted several differences. "I'll let you two enjoy your dinner."

"Parker, wait." She stood, and Lucian placed a staying hand on her knee.

"Goodbye, Scout. I'll keep an eye on Pearl for you."

He turned and left, quickly moving through the maze of tables and disappearing through the door. The tears that blurred her vision startled her.

Turning her scowl on Lucian, she hissed, "I'm sure you're pleased with yourself." With a flick of her wrist, her napkin was tossed onto the table and she stood, heading toward the lobby. Following the same maze Parker had taken, she left.

Her feet walked as quickly as she could manage without causing a scene or breaking her neck. Her tiny shoes ticked across the polished lobby floor like a tattoo needle. As a doorman held the door for her, she saw Parker cutting through a cl.u.s.ter of cabs and crossing the street.

The wind sliced through her clothing and sent her hair swirling and knotting around her face. "Parker, wait!"

He stopped and turned. The cold bl.u.s.tery weather flapped her light tweed jacket that was more of an accessory that anything else. His hands were rooted deep in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched. She twisted and noticed Lucian standing by the gla.s.s doors, watching them. Why did there have to be sides? With a frustrated huff, she crossed the street to Parker.