The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair, #1) novel Chapter 10

Presley

I spoil myself, ordering a fourteen-dollar glass of champagne. When it’s placed before me in a glass flute, I take a slow sip, letting the bubbles dance over my tongue as I silently congratulate myself on a great first week of work. In a few years, I’ll be able to order bottles of this stuff and not bat an eyelash at the cost, and I’ll be able to make sure Michael has what he needs. I just have to keep working hard.

Since Bianca has a date tonight, and I didn’t feel like going home alone to an apartment that’s not even mine, I’ve stationed myself at a bar around the corner from the hotel. I slowly sip my drink, savoring it since I probably won’t be able to order myself something so extravagant for the foreseeable future.

A deep voice rumbles a curse, and something about the sound of the man’s voice makes me turn. Seated to my left, about six bar stools down, is Dominic Aspen.

Heat floods my cheeks at the sight of him. Even if this is one of the closest bars to the hotel where we both work, I never expected to see him here.

Correction: I work there. He owns it. It’s crazy to think that this man employs close to forty-thousand people around the globe.

He’s clearly upset about something, and I watch in fascination as he stabs at the screen of his phone, typing out a hurried message.

Dominic pushes one hand through his hair and then finishes his whiskey neat in a single gulp. He looks up and our eyes meet, and my cheeks flush with heat when I realize I’ve been watching him.

“Presley?” His deep voice is raspy and sends goose bumps skittering down my spine.

I take a healthy gulp of my champagne and then carry my glass down to join him. “Hello, Mr. Aspen.”

“Call me Dominic.”

I nod. “Are you enjoying happy hour?” I ask, and then instantly curse myself for how childish that sounded. I’m sure he already sees me as some know-nothing coed, and that little remark probably just reinforced that idea. Idiot.

“What? No.” He shakes his head. “I have a business dinner starting in thirty minutes around the corner, and I was supposed to meet my date here.”

“Oh.” My hands fall into my lap. Of course he has a date, a beautiful man like him. After all, it’s Friday night. I’m the only weirdo with no plans. I tip my head, looking down at my scuffed shoes. “Have fun, then. I won’t keep you.”

I finish the last of my champagne and rise to my feet, fishing around inside my purse until I locate my wallet.

Dominic frowns at me. “Sit down, Presley.”

Before I can even process his request, my body is obeying, and I lower myself back onto the bar stool.

Dominic catches the bartender’s attention to order me a second glass of bubbly, and requests my check be given to him. “My date canceled tonight,” he says at my obvious confusion.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” My heart pumps faster.

“So am I.”