Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
As the working day wore on, the guiltier I felt for being cold to him when all he’d tried to do was offer help.
I was stewing over my remorse as I pushed the laundry cart toward the elevator at the end of the second floor. I still felt iffy about getting on the elevator, but I needed to use it every day, so I couldn’t avoid it and let my fear win.
My shift was over. I just needed to deliver the dirty sheets to the laundry service and I could clock out. Except for my cool encounters with Walker, it had been an unusually juicy kind of day on the estate. I’d changed the sheets of an actor who had arrived alone but was definitely getting it on with someone here who liked to celebrate his release on her sheets. I’d spotted false teeth in a tray in the bathroom of an actor that surprised the heck out of me, and I’d accidentally walked in on a director screwing an actor who was most definitely not his husband.
Yet I was the utter definition of discretion. I didn’t even text Monroe, someone I trusted, to share my gossip. Having been the butt of celebrity gossip since falling pregnant with Brodan’s child, and then marrying the retired actor, Monroe wasn’t interested in knowing people’s business. That suited me fine. I didn’t need to share what I knew about people, especially if I thought it could hurt them. Also, I’d signed an NDA when I took the job.
As I passed the staircase, I noticed movement out of my peripheral. Glancing toward the stairs, I caught sight of Byron Hoffman climbing the last step onto the landing. I’d pushed yesterday’s encounter with him to the back of my mind, preoccupied with other disasters. But at the sight of him, I stiffened, my skin flushing hot with tension. I nodded a polite hello and kept walking toward the elevator, picking up my pace.
“Excuse me, miss.”
Ah, crap.
I halted and looked back at the actor. My father had represented a lot of famous clients, and he’d thrown parties for them at our house. Famous people didn’t faze me, which was one reason Aria was happy to hire me. But men like him, who thought they could own everything, made my skin crawl.
“May I help you with something, Mr. Hoffman?”
He smirked, gaze dipping down my body and back up again. “Please, call me Byron.”
I didn’t respond because it would be inappropriate of me to call him by his first name and I didn’t want to encourage him. Yesterday was so far beyond inappropriate, it wasn’t funny.
Maybe I should’ve told Mrs. Hutchinson, after all. Maybe I still should.
Hoffman sighed heavily. “Very well. I know your name now, though. Sloane.”
I stiffened. “Has something been amiss with your room, Mr. Hoffman?”
“Not at all.” He waved his hand and took a step toward me. “Would you mind leaving me an extra little chocolate on the pillow tonight at turndown?”
“I don’t do the turndown service, but I will pass along the request.”
“So, you’re the one who cleans my room and has it looking spotless for me when I return to it in the afternoon?”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes gleamed. “Well, you do an excellent job. What time do you clean my room? Just so I know when to skedaddle.”
I hesitated, the equivalent of warning bells going off in my ears. “Uh … Thank you. I usually get to your room after noon.”
“Precise timing, please, sweetheart?” Despite the please, there was a hard bite to his words.
“Around two o’clock. Good evening, Mr. Hoffman.” I dismissed him when I probably should have waited for him to dismiss me, but I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. Hurrying toward the service elevator, I hit the button and, thankfully, the doors pinged open right away. I got in with the cart and turned to hit the button for the ground floor.
Byron Hoffman still stood there, watching me.
A knot formed in my stomach as the doors closed. His question bothered me. Why did he want to know the exact time I cleaned his room?
So he could skedaddle.
Was it really, though? Maybe he wanted to trap me between him and my cart again.
Or was I being paranoid?
The elevator doors opened and I finished my shift in a daze. I couldn’t shrug off the feeling of unease.
“Sloane.” A heavy hand landed on my shoulder as I stood at my locker, and I squawked in fright.
It felt like my heart had leapt into my throat as I turned to face the intruder.
Walker stood before me, a deep frown pinching his brows. “I said your name four times and you didn’t respond. You okay?”
Trying to catch my breath, I pressed a hand to my chest and nodded. “Sorry. I was …” I shrugged. Then I remembered my earlier confrontation with Walker. “Hey, about earlier—”