Page 8 of Mistletoe Mistake
“You’re at the top of our list, Signor Morelli,” I promised him. “We’ll be in touch with your office soon.”
He hurried off to greet the next guests while Holly rolled her eyes at me behind his back. “Please tell me we’re not actually considering working for him again.” Despite how well the hotel had turned out, the whole project had been one headache after another. The project manager had tried to cut corners at every turn and Holly had fought tooth and nail to keep our original vision intact.
“Of course not,” I agreed quietly. “But he doesn't need to know that, and neither do any of his competitors. The more in demand they think we are, the better for us. Now, let's go get ourselves a drink and see what other potential clients might be lurking around. This night is going to lead to big things for us. I can feel it."
~Cole~
Jackson knocked on my door at nine o'clock in the morning, precisely, just as I'd told him to. As soon as I let him in, he peered around the suite’s living area with interest. “Am I in time to say hello, or has she already gone?”
When I went back to the party the night before to tell him I’d be leaving with the woman in the Santa dress, he had been more than a little jealous. “You lucky bastard. You know she's basically my dream girl, right?”
I shrugged, feeling rather pleased with myself, but I threw him a bone too. “It's not like we're getting married. If you put up the cash, I'm sure you could get her for yourself another time.”
Jackson's mouth dropped open in surprise as he leaned closer to whisper to me. “She's a call girl?”
“Of course. You saw her.”
“I did,” he agreed, knitting his brows. “And I didn't get that vibe at all.”
“Which is why I got her first,” I concluded with a smirk. “I'll see you in the morning.”
Now, he stood here looking around my suite as if she might suddenly appear out of the woodwork.
I kept my reply short and to the point as I took a seat on the couch. “She's not here. Let's get to work.”
I had some paperwork for the new hotel that I wanted to review, along with some documents my board had sent me for some of our other properties.
“You've got to give me more than that,” Jackson grumbled as he sat down in one of the chairs across from me, pulling out his own laptop. “Did she look as good out of that dress as she did in it?”
For a moment, I almost considered lying to him by pretending she had spent the night, looking to cover my bruised ego, but since I might need his help to track her down, it would be better to be honest. “I don't know. Nothing happened.”
“What?" He couldn't have looked more shocked if I had told him aliens had landed during the night. "Why not?”
I sighed, frustrated both by this conversation and by the events of the previous night. “Apparently, I didn't make her a good enough offer.”
Jackson gave a low whistle. “Well, if you can't afford her, I don't know who could. How much did she want?”
“I don't know,” I repeated, my jaw clenched. “She didn't say.”
Confusion flashed across his face, and I couldn’t blame him for it. I still felt confused too. “Exactly what happened, Cole?”
As briefly as possible, I gave him a summary of my conversation with Gemma once we got back to my suite. Though he tried to hide the smile on his face as I finished speaking, he wasn't quite quick enough, and it only made me grumpier. “What?”
“You're an idiot.” His grin broke through as he tried, and failed, to keep from laughing.
“Me? She’s the one who went from hot to cold in two seconds.”
“Because you insulted her.”
What did he see that I didn’t? “My offer was reasonable.”
“No, you moron!” Jackson shook his head in disbelief. “It has nothing to do with the amount you offered; she obviously wasn't a prostitute at all. She simply wanted to spend the night with you.”
I should have expected that from him. He still believed in love at first sight and other kinds of similar nonsense, so I scoffed at his conclusion. “That’s not true. She said…”
I trailed off, trying to remember exactly what she had said when she kissed me under the mistletoe. We hadn't discussed any amounts, of course, but I thought we were both clear on the nature of the situation.
However, as I reviewed the conversation in my head, I began to see that perhaps I assumed too much. I wanted it to be true, so I heard what I wanted to hear, and a fresh wave of disappointment washed over me as I realized Jackson might actually be right. And if she really wasn't a hooker, then trying to track her down would be pointless. Even if I found her, I couldn't sleep with her after all.
