More, Please (Please Series Book 3) (5 page)

T
he next morning
I stepped out of the shower and into the kind of bathroom only the best hotels could boast. A fluffy white robe hung on a hook for me, which I took after I mostly dried off, and wrapped my hair up in a towel turban.

In the cool air of the temperature-moderated room sat the closet, full of a new wardrobe I had neither picked out, nor needed to return. Hunter arranged for his people to outfit me in exact sizes, and in colors and cuts that suited both my body and my complexion.

Or so Hunter said when I had marveled at the wardrobe the night before.

“Have the documents arrived?”

I looked into the main area of the suite where couches stood in front of a large TV hanging on the wall. In the corner, Hunter sat at the desk with his laptop open and his cell phone held to his ear. He’d been that way since the small hours of the morning.

Realizing he wasn’t talking to me, I ducked back into the bedroom and took my place in front of the closet, marveling at all the finery. As it was Saturday, jeans and a shirt would be perfect.

I picked through the selections, the equivalent of a week’s worth of clothes, only to find there were no jeans. Scowling, I looked again. Nope.

Disappointed, I chose a pair of slacks instead, as well as a top that was way too nice for a weekend.

The dresser had all new underwear, with lacy bras and panties as well as standard cotton fare. I chose lace, because really, at the price Hunter paid, it would probably be more comfortable even than the cotton.

When I asked why Hunter stocked the room as though we’d be staying a while, he’d tilted his head in confusion and said, “There was no telling what you’d want to wear, so I had my assistant get everything.”

Everything except jeans, apparently.

I spent time brushing out and blow-drying my hair, and putting on a light dusting of makeup. That was the problem with nice clothes—a messy ponytail and plain face didn’t really go. I had to at least
try
to look pretty.

After that, I visited the safe, struggling not to be uncomfortable as diamond earrings, tennis bracelets, and all manner of gems glittered at me. I didn’t really want to put any of these on. They matched the clothes, but there was no telling what I’d do to them. I might scuff a ruby, or accidentally lose an earring, or…who knew? I wasn’t practiced in wearing expensive things—I didn’t know how to take care of them.

I reached forward anyway. Hunter wouldn’t take my fear as a viable reason to refrain from wearing his purchases. He’d just tell me to start practicing.

After I chose the plainest of the options and fastened them on, I stood in front of the mirror. I now looked like a richer version of myself, and I had to say, the transformation was great. I felt like a princess.

If only I could relax at the same time. This just wasn’t Saturday attire.

I walked out into the main room as Hunter set his phone on the desk and went back to his computer. I barely stopped myself from plunking down in the couch as I might have done in jeans. Instead, I sat almost gracefully. I crossed one ankle over the other. Then uncrossed, because I didn’t feel like being dainty.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, still staring at his computer.

“Nothing. Why?”

“You’re sighing loudly.” He swiveled in his chair and dropped his arm over the back. His sexy gaze took me in. “You look great, apart from the scowl. What is it?”

“Do you never wear normal jeans?” I blurted.

He glanced at my slacks, and then the flats I’d chosen when I would’ve rather had Toms or Sketchers. Hunter’s fashion assistant needed a reality check.

“You feel too dressed up.”

“Very astute, Mr. Carlisle. You’ve solved the riddle.”

The corners of his mouth tweaked upward. He turned back to his computer, closed it, and then slipped it into his computer bag. He stood, dropping his phone into his pocket. “Shall we go? We’ll do the errand first, then you can take me shopping and dress us both like street urchins, if you want.”

“Street urchins…?” My scowl etched more firmly in my face. I stood. “I didn’t see anything to pack up all the clothes. How are we supposed to get them out of here?”

“The assistant will take care of it.” He slung his computer over his shoulder and came toward me.

A flash of warmth stole my breath away. I reached out for him before I knew what I was doing, just wanting to touch him. His lips touched mine softly. He opened my mouth with his, flicking his tongue in playfully. His arms came around me, holding me tight. He had my toes curling right before he backed off a bit.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, loosening his hold.

“What’s the hurry?” I ran my hand up his chest.

“This situation is temporary. I want to figure out something…a little more permanent.” He kissed me again before stepping back.

Not knowing what he meant, but completely on board, I half stumbled toward the door before I realized what I was doing. “Right.” I glanced around, feeling like I was forgetting something. I was about to leave a hotel room without anything in my hands. It just felt weird. “What about my clothes from yesterday?”

“The assistant will grab everything.”

“Who is this assistant?” I asked, doing one more sweep. I almost wanted to take the robe just to have
something
in my hands.

“She only just started. You’ll meet her soon. Ready?”

I walked out of the room, glancing back furtively. “Why the new assistant?” I asked as we made our way to the elevator.

When the doors opened, a smiling attendant greeted us. He waited for us to enter and then pushed the button for the ground floor. He clasped his hands in front of him and pointed his face demurely at the ground.

“I need certain things looked after. How are things going with Bruce?” Hunter asked as the elevator chimed. “We didn’t get a chance to discuss it.”

Yes, because you were in the middle of a personality change.

When the doors opened on the right floor, the attendant put his hand out to ensure we weren’t caught if they randomly closed, and said, “Have a good day, sir, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him. Then, when out of earshot, I said, “It feels weird that the hotel doesn’t trust its patrons to operate an elevator.”

“It saves us from having to keep an elevator assistant on staff.” His voice was colored with humor.

“Sure, joke, but know that this hotel is basically calling you an idiot. They don’t trust you to push the right buttons. They probably assume you poor rich sods will be riding the elevator all day, not sure how to get out. That, or you’ll be wandering the halls, lost, calling out for your assistants…”

Hunter laughed. “Or maybe they’re using the flattery of a helper to create another job or two.”

My eyebrows lowered, because while I didn’t think that was strictly true, it was certainly a perk for the work force.

“How’s it going with Bruce?” Hunter repeated as we stepped out of the hotel.

I allowed myself to be steered to the right, where he handed a ticket to a man at a small podium. “Great, actually. I have a bunch of stuff I need to do later today. Or tomorrow. But it’s fun work, so I don’t mind it.”

“More fun than being an office assistant, huh?”

I grimaced, because it was. It was in my field, whereas what I was doing for Hunter was not even remotely close to what I studied in school. I loved learning new things, but I also loved programming.

“He’s half thinking of getting another business going,” Hunter said as a sleek sports car pulled into the carport in front of the hotel.

A man in uniform stepped out and hustled over with keys. Hunter slipped him a tip as he stepped to the passenger door and opened it for me.

“Arrive in a limo, leave in a supercar. You need a team of assistants.” I smiled at him as I sat in the plush leather seat.

“I
have
a team of assistants,” he replied before he closed the door and walked to the driver’s side.

“I doubt his wife will be thrilled with him starting another business,” I said as Hunter steered the car out of the hotel’s carport.

“He plans to keep it small this time.”

“There’s no way.” I shook my head, checking social media on my phone as Hunter drove. “He thinks big, like you. He’ll start small, but as soon as that gets rolling, he’ll reach for more. You wait.”

“Yes, he will. I’ve been…advising him. If he reaches in the right way, and organizes things properly, there’s no reason why he has to do the heavy lifting when things escalate. He can maintain creative control, company control, and stay married.”

“So you’re taking over already?” I snorted.

“Just advising. He has to come up with a project first.”

“Which he will. The one we’re working on will seriously rock. Seriously.”

“He’ll need investors…”

“He’s rich. He’ll probably just fund it himself,” I argued.

“At first, sure. But it’s a big risk, and advertising is expensive. It’d be better to gamble with a larger company’s money. At least until the ball is rolling.”

I glanced up as we hit the crest of a hill and started down. The ocean sparkled in the distance with the sun beating down on it, the winters in San Francisco often better than the summers, and the day lending proof.

“We’re not going to your house, are we? I don’t really want Blaire yelling at me today.”

“We won’t be seeing Blaire.”

It was a non-answer, and I didn’t much like the elusiveness of it. He didn’t take her seriously, and it would probably earn him a knife in his back. For me, it’d probably be an axe to the head. The less I had to deal with that woman, the better.

“Well, we’re only a few months away from putting our game in beta testing. If that goes well, we can get it live in no time.”

“And then the work really starts.”

“Not for me. I’m just the laborer. I don’t have anything to do with the business end of things.”

“You will.”

I rumpled my eyebrows at the conviction in Hunter’s voice. We slowed into a turn. Thankfully, it was taking us away from his house. A few minutes later, he turned into a driveway of a three-story building. The first story appeared to be just the garage.

“Who lives here?” I asked in confusion.

The garage door rose. He pulled into the cavernous space and shut off the car. The door started lowering behind us.

“Is this the hideout for your secret drug cartel or something?” I asked as I got out of the car. “Are there going to be topless women in there cutting and bagging coke?”

“You watch too much TV.”

As we entered the house, I noticed the tightness in his eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders.

What was going on?

He started up the stairs, his gaze everywhere at once. He checked out the freshly painted wall, the banister, the steps themselves, and the ceiling. On the landing, he brought out a key before glancing at the second set of stairs leading to the third floor.

He fit the key in the lock and clicked it over. I expected him to step aside and direct me through the door, but he didn’t. For the first time since I’d met him, he stepped in ahead of me.

Warning bells went off. Blaire and villains and homicidal clowns could’ve been waiting in there for all I knew.

“Are we in danger?” I asked in a hush, following him in a hunch. I was ready to run and I didn’t care who knew it. The first sign of danger and I was out of there.

Hunter’s gaze took in the polished wood floor of the entryway that turned into a hallway to the back of the flat—because this was, indeed, a flat. Not an apartment, like I lived in, where there were a few units per floor. This was one living space that took up the whole floor of the building, with another flat above where someone else lived. And judging by what I could see so far, it was
huge
by San Francisco standards.

“I’m thinking of buying this building, and wanted your thoughts,” Hunter said as he took two steps to the right and stood in the mouth of an archway.

“Oh.” I straightened up. “Why didn’t you say so? I was thinking the worst.” I put my hands on my hips and checked things out.

A large kitchen opposite the entryway had granite counters and all the latest appliances. A mat graced the ground in front of the sink, and the wine rack in the corner was fully stocked.

“Does someone live here now?” I asked as I moved through the spacious kitchen and into the dining area on the other side.

A large table, set with crystal and china, was set up in front of a filled china cabinet. Off to the right of that, in the front of the flat, crouched a sofa and chairs looking on a large entertainment system and huge TV.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“So whose stuff is this?” I circled back around to the door, Hunter dogging my steps.

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he put out his hand toward the back of the flat. “The bedrooms are at the back.”

Weird. And since when did he need a second opinion? His way was always the right way, regardless of the logic involved.

It occurred to me that often houses being showed were staged with furniture and decorations, though this one didn’t have anything on the walls. Those usually came with a realtor passing out information.

Although Hunter would probably bypass that.

I passed a bathroom with a new sink and vanity unit, and glanced into an empty bedroom opposite. This one looked out into the atrium, a hollow in the middle of the building letting light in. At the back were two more bedrooms, one a master with a huge bed, curtains, a TV, and other fine things, and the other bare. Beyond those rooms was a large balcony with stairs leading into a backyard.

“There’s an en suite bathroom off the master bedroom.” Hunter pointed into the room.

“I have no idea what the value of flats are out here, Hunter,” I said, stepping back into the hallway. “I don’t know how I could possibly help you.”

“Do you like it, though? Does it fit your tastes?”

“
My
tastes?” I shrugged, looking around again. “I mean, yeah. It’s really nice. Renovated and spacious. You could get a pretty penny in rent, even though it’s way out in the Richmond District.”