Call It Business ( Book 3 of 'Call It' Series )

Chapter 19 | Too Much Work

"Do it."

"No."

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"What if I give you a secret?"

"I'll find another way to take it."

"What if I give you three secrets?" She batted her eyelashes in faux innocence.

"Tempting," Gerard hummed a mock noise, lifting his gaze to her expectant one and letting an absolutely lethal smirk play over his mouth, "No."

Oh, come on!

Throwing her head back in exasperation, she let out a low groan. Her annoyance only increased with the low, husky laugh that movement managed to get from him. As musical as it sounded and warmed her inside out, it wasn't the kind of music she was currently asking for. The hotel staff in the distance must have been pretty annoyed by it too because she could practically feel their gazes on her back.

"Okay." She jerked abruptly shifting in her spot on the piano and lightly hitting on his shoulder with her knee, "Do that on piano now."

Gerard arched a sardonic eyebrow, leaning over the keys of the instrument from where he was seated and pulling the glass of whiskey off her grip. He swirled the glass and took a sip before setting it aside, "Aren't you demanding?"

"Aren't you stubborn?" She questioned flatly, firing an unimpressive look at him before flipping the coin.

He was.

Considering she was trying to convince him to play the piano ever since they had stepped into the vast ballroom that was in a rush preparation for tomorrow's anniversary dinner. Yes, it felt like a funny rebellion against the obeying order Judith Blanchard terribly needed, or perhaps locking themselves to their suite all night until the pandemonium of murmurs and rumors died down seemed a little too boring.

Besides, as the villain had pointed out, they were the new owners of the hotels, and hiding after a 'meeting' with their family could impact their image, and Macy knew he was right.

So, after having made a quick appearance at the exhibit, they had into the ballroom that was currently getting decorated. To Macy, no decorations were needed. This very heart of the hotel had already seemed like an enchanted conservatory with its white doric columns rising from the polished floor and open-ceiling adorned with iron branches that offered take a glimpse of the night sky. The plants in pots rested upon every corner in union and brought the color of green in under the dim lighting of the artificial candlelight. Just as the giant, abstract statues glimmered in their bronze state highlighted the nature of the room.

In the corner, a few men in hotel's black and white uniforms were standing on the ladders and covered parts of the walls with the white tulles while another team carried the tables and chairs of mahogany inside through the tall double doors. The rest of the staff were rearranging the sculptures and paintings scattered around the salon. All of them had been spending supreme effort to hide their curiosity toward the new owners of the hotels, Macy could tell it as the villain had led her to the deserted stage at the end of the room. She could also tell Gerard had been utterly unaware of the attention he had naturally commanded as he had sat down on the piano stool and endured Macy's unyielding insistence to get him to play it as she'd hopped on its lit, swinging her legs above the keys, and dug her high heels to the velvet cushion of the stool.

Now, she absently wondered if Judith Blanchard was still in that staring contest with her sister, but the dominant part of her was too distracted by her husband, and just like her, he was avoiding talking about what had happened back at the meeting room.