No Love Attached

chapter six : room service

| No Love Attached |
| chapter six : room service |
•••

I wasn't quite sure why I had asked Leo to get a drink with me. Honestly, I surprised myself. Maybe it was because my boss tried to publicly berate and sexually harass me. Or that Alec ripped off the emotional band-aid, that I in fact, hadn't been with a man since Josh.

Perhaps I'm just a sucker for an unlikely hero. I do work in literature, after all.

I also knew if I didn't distract myself, I'd go right back upstairs and crawl in bed.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly when we sat back down at the bar.

I looked around to see if the situation had caught any of the hotel guests' attention. From the looks of it, if it had, they already moved on and back to their own lives. Except for a few side glances from the single women who were just eyeing Leo.

"Yeah, I guess. But that's definitely going to make for some awkward work meetings." I shook my head in attempt to brush off whatever harsh words were said.

His brows furrowed, "Wait, you work with that guy?"

"Yep," I popped the 'p', before taking a sip of my fresh drink, "My boss, unfortunately."

I looked up to meet his eyes, which to my surprise, were sea-green pools of worry.

"Jesus, you need to report him."

"I know." I stated. But honestly could I report Alec James? He owned the publishing company with Josh's dad, along with various other important businesses. Nothing would really happen to him. Even though he's basically verbally harassed every woman in the office.

"Honestly Vera. I can make a call to a friend and he'll be gone." Leo grabbed my hand, under the bar. His grip was gentle and warm. Comforting, almost. But before I left myself appreciate it, I pulled my hand back.

"No, please, you've really done enough. Thank you for helping me out back there."

Now, if you would have told me a couple of weeks ago -- scratch that, a mere couple of minutes ago, that I'd be thanking this man, I'd laugh my ass off. But here I was, with the words flowing naturally from my alcohol-infused tongue.

   "Don't worry about it. I can't have drunken assholes loitering in my hotel, yelling at beautiful women, anyway." His full lips curved upward into a magnificent smile.

   You'd think him basically calling me beautiful would have been the most shocking thing he said; but no. In my hotel?

    I was dumbfounded as the realization hit me like a palm to my forehead. The Fitz-Wells London Hotel. Could I have been any more oblivious?

    "Your hotel? Wow, how did I miss that?" I let out a laugh, shaking my head at my stupidity. His Forbes magazine was in pretty much every corner of the hotel, waiting for my eyes to catch it.

    He chuckled a bit, too. Almost as if I was joking with him and not with myself. We locked eyes while I was nursing my third drink. His teeth were what you would have seen in a Colgate toothpaste commercial as they flashed that wicked smile of his. He leaned in close enough for me to inhale the strong scent of whiskey from his hot breath.