Fragile by A.K. Evans

Three

Cash

Beck pushed the button for the main lobby, and I watched as the bulbs lit up indicating our descent.

This weekend hadn’t gone anything like I thought it would.

Actually, that’s not entirely true.

I had suspected we’d have two great shows here in New Hampshire. We had. The crowds were incredible, and the vibe both nights were killer. But not long after I’d arrived here last Thursday, I had expected that not only would we have incredible shows, but that I’d also have a great time with the woman I saw the moment we entered this hotel.

Demi.

I didn’t know what it was about her, but I’d never, never, been so distracted by a woman before her. In the beginning, part of me liked this challenge with her. She was gorgeous, but she was feisty. She talked back. She didn’t take anybody’s shit. The woman could make my dick hard with just one look or wise-ass comment.

Unfortunately, it was now Monday morning, the shows were over, and we were checking out to head to our next location.

To say I was disappointed would have been an understatement. And that was something I never expected I’d say when it was time to leave this small town.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Beck and I stepped out.

As we started walking toward the lobby, he asked, “You want me to handle the check-out?”

My eyes shifted toward the reception desk. Demi was there. I should have told Beck to take the lead. It was obvious she wasn’t interested, but I wanted to take one last shot.

Shaking my head as I returned my attention to Beck, I replied, “No, that’s alright. I’ll take care of it.”

He jerked his chin up and said, “Good luck, man.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Beck knew I’d had a bit of a thing for Demi. He had been just as shocked as I was that Demi didn’t seem interested.

Walking up to the front desk as Beck moved toward the exit to meet the rest of the crew outside, my eyes remained focused on Demi.

“Checking out?” she asked.

I nodded and placed the room keys on the desk. “Yes.”

Demi took the key cards, but something strange washed over her face. I didn’t know what it was, and before I could really take the opportunity to dissect it, it was gone.

I hated the fact that I had to leave the first woman who made me feel this way without so much as a phone number. Figuring this was my last chance, I decided to try one last time.

“I missed seeing you at the show last night,” I told her, doing my best to remain nonchalant.

“That’s because I didn’t go,” she replied. “I told you I wasn’t going to come.”

“I thought maybe you were bluffing. I can’t believe you didn’t use those tickets I gave you,” I said.

“Well, they didn’t go to waste,” she reasoned.

Confusion washed over me. What was that supposed to mean?

“What?” I asked.

“Your tickets were used, Cash,” Demi assured me. Then a devilish grin formed on her face. It nearly knocked me on my ass. “I gave them to your selfie-taking, autograph-requesting groupies from earlier in the evening. They were ecstatic.”

I wanted to laugh. How this woman managed to infuriate me while also making me want to strip her naked was a complete mystery to me.

She had no issue denying me in any way that she could. And damn if that didn’t make her seem that much more appealing.

As she worked at the computer in front of her, I asked, “So, I’ve got to make one last-ditch effort here. What are the chances of me walking out of here with your number?”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her voice when she responded, “Zero.”

“Ouch.”

“What would be the point in doing that anyway?” she questioned me.

I’d take that. Demi did her very best to indicate she wasn’t even remotely interested in me, but if that were truly the case, she wouldn’t have asked me this follow-up question.

“What do you mean? The point of exchanging phone numbers is so that two people can communicate with one another when they aren’t around each other,” I explained even though I had a feeling that wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

Demi rolled her eyes at me. “I know what a phone is used for, Cash,” she insisted. Fuck, I loved hearing her say my name. “What I’m saying is that I don’t understand what the point is in me giving you my number when you’re leaving and never coming back here.”

“I didn’t say I was never coming back. Plus, I can promise you that if I had something waiting for me to come back to, I’d definitely make the trip. There’s no doubt I’d come back for you.”

Shooting me a look of disbelief, Demi insisted, “I’m sure that’s what you tell all the women who work at the hotels you stay at.”

“I don’t.”

Her expression didn’t change. If anything, Demi only seemed to grow more leery of me. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s the truth, though.”

I waited for her to respond, but she didn’t say anything.

“So that’s it then?” I asked.

“That’s it.”

Not wanting to walk away from her, but knowing I had to, I took one last long look at her before I said, “Well, take care of yourself, Demi.”

She gave me a simple nod and returned, “You, too. Good luck with the rest of your tour.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

With that, I turned and walked to the front door. Normally, having someone wish me luck with our tour would have left me feeling good. This time it didn’t. Because while I stepped out into the morning sun, trying to come to terms with the fact that Demi wasn’t interested, I silently wondered how the remainder of the tour would be for me.

Sure, I knew I’d be able to move on to the next location and pick up a woman with a simple snap of my fingers if I wanted to. The problem was, I had a feeling I wasn’t so easily going to forget the one who stood behind that reception desk in this hotel and didn’t take an ounce of my shit.

Demi

“Enjoy the remainder of your stay.”

That came from one of my staff members, Izzy. She just finished checking in a hotel guest, and I had just gotten back to the front desk after a meeting with my kitchen staff.

The moment the guest had taken off, Izzy looked in my direction and said, “Hey, Demi. Everything okay?”

Nodding, I confirmed, “Yes, it’s all good. I just finished my meeting with the kitchen staff. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be heading into the back to work on some budget stuff. I know you can handle just about anything out here, but if you need me, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Sure. I’ve got it covered.”

“Thanks.”

With that, I made my way back to my office and sat down at my desk.

I wanted to laugh. It wasn’t going to be my desk for much longer.

It was now Wednesday, and I’d just officially done it. I submitted my two-week notice. I was finally leaving this job.

The truth was, I couldn’t take it much longer. The day Chasey had come in and the whole staff got to witness her heartbreak, I sort of lost it. Sam and I had gone to Cal’s bar, Granite, that night. I begged him for a job.

After spending entirely too long now working at a place that was bringing me such heartache, I decided it was time to do something about it. I couldn’t simply quit because I still had bills to pay, but I knew I couldn’t continue to work in an environment where I felt partly responsible for breaking up marriages.

Deep down, I knew people like Chasey’s husband had made their own choices. If it wasn’t my hotel, it would have been another. But the bottom line was that seeing something like that was the last straw. I had had enough.

Thankfully, Cal was willing to hire me. And after a long talk with him and Sam, we decided that I could be in charge of handling the entertainment at the bar for him. Cal had recently started having bands play live performances at his bar. While the outcome had been great, he couldn’t deny that it had been a lot of work and preparation.

So, now I was going to be in charge of that. Having spent all these years as a hotel manager, I knew I could easily manage all of the responsibilities and headaches that would come with hiring live talent.

Of course, Sam and I told Cal all about what happened that day that brought me to that place. Sam, however, didn’t seem interested in holding back the news that My Violent Heart had come into the hotel that day. She also felt compelled to tell Cal that Cash Morris was ‘seriously interested’ in me.

Yes, those were her words.

Seriously interested.

I had wanted to tell her that he was only seriously interested in finding an easy score, but I refrained. At least for the time being. I was too heartbroken at what I’d witnessed that day to really think too much about anything other than how horrible I felt for that woman and her brand-new baby.

Only two more weeks.

I’d suck it up for the next two weeks, and then I’d be out of here.

On that thought, I got started working on budgets and other financial reports. But I hadn’t even gotten two or three minutes into my work when Izzy walked in and called, “Demi?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a call waiting on hold for you,” she said.

I glanced down at the phone on my desk. Only one of the lines was lit up.

“I’ll get it. Thanks,” I told her as I put my hand to the phone.

“This is Demi. How can I help you?”

“Shit, I forgot.”

Three words. With just three words, my body went on alert because I knew precisely who was on the other line.

“Cash?” I called.

There was a momentary pause before he replied, “Yeah.”

Why was he calling? He said he forgot. If he forgot something, he could have easily asked Izzy.

“Did you forget something in your suite?” I asked. “I can talk to housekeeping and see if they found anything.”

“No, that’s not it,” he said. “It been a few days since I left. I realized I didn’t give you an option.”

“An option?” I repeated.

“Well, I started thinking about you, and I realized it was totally possible for you to change your mind about wanting to give me your number. The problem is that you have no way to contact me. And while I do think that you’re a very determined woman who would find a way to get what she wants, I didn’t want you to have to go to the trouble.”

What was he talking about?

“I’m sorry. I’m not following you,” I told him. “You think I’ve been sitting here pining over the fact that I didn’t give you my number and now I’m devastated that I may never get the chance to talk to you again?”

He let out a soft laugh. God, the sound was magical in my ear. “I don’t know, Demi. Are you pining over me?”

“Not at all.”

“I don’t know why, but I have such a hard time believing that,” he said.

“It’s probably because your ego can’t handle the devastating blow that not everybody wants to see you naked,” I remarked.

“Are you thinking about me naked, firecracker?”

Damn.

I hadn’t been. At least, not at that moment. But I was now. And I would have been lying if I said that I hadn’t thought about him naked at least a thousand times since he had walked into my hotel.

“You’re so full of yourself. Do you know that?” I countered.

“You didn’t answer the question,” he pointed out. “I think that says a lot more about you than it does about me. I don’t have to pretend to be somebody I’m not.”

Okay, time for a new tactic. I considered just slamming the phone down and hanging up on him, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t dissuade Cash. This guy was far too determined to simply give up. I mean, if he was still hung up on the fact that I hadn’t given him my number days after he’d moved on to the next stop on his band’s tour, I needed a serious answer as to why.

Or, better yet, I needed to make sure I shut it down.

“Why are you being so persistent?” I asked. “You’ve already left New Hampshire.”

“Maybe I want to come back,” he replied.

This guy.

“Well, it’s not me that’s stopping you,” I said.

I didn’t mind putting that out there because I knew My Violent Heart was still on tour for a few more weeks. Even if Cash thought this was my way of giving in, by the time he came back, I wouldn’t be here.

“Do you want me to come back?” he asked.

For a brief moment, I allowed what felt like genuine curiosity in his tone affect me. He sounded like he actually cared to know the answer to that question and that he desperately wanted the answer to be yes.

Pushing beyond that unwelcome feeling the sound of his voice gave me, I remembered how men like him were and answered, “What I want doesn’t matter, and you know that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means. Guys like you don’t actually care about the feelings of the women you get involved with, which is precisely the reason why I won’t ever get involved with you,” I explained.

“That’s quite the assessment you’ve made,” he noted.

“It’s accurate, though,” I said.

Cash didn’t respond, and I found that strange. Someone like him, with the cocky attitude and inability to accept being denied, didn’t just shut down. There was always a reply, a witty comeback. Something, anything, to make the person they were speaking with feel worse about the situation.

When too much time passed without a reply, I declared, “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“I’m not a fool. I know you can easily find another woman at your next destination. Why are you being so persistent with me?”

There was another lengthy pause before his voice dropped an octave, and he said, “Because you aren’t like the other women. You don’t fall all over yourself for me.”

Now it made sense.

“I see. So, this is just a game for you then,” I announced. “You’ve never had to actually work to get a woman in your bed, so maybe that’s made life a little monotonous for you, even if you spend every night with a different girl.”

“You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yep. I’m going to be nice and do you a favor, though. I understand your need to conquer this and come out on top. I’ll save you the work and the struggle and tell you that I promise it’s not going to happen. I have absolutely zero interest in playing this game with you just so you can get your rocks off and move on.”

The silence stretched between us.

“Demi?” he eventually called.

“Yeah?”

“You’re wrong,” he said.

No, I wasn’t, but I could see why he wouldn’t want to admit that to me. “Oh?” I scoffed. “How’s that?”

“Actually, you’re mostly right,” he corrected himself. “This is definitely a challenge. One that I’m up for. But where you’re wrong is in your assumption about what happens in this game.”

“How so?”

Another lengthy pause ensued before his voice dropped to a level so low it was a wonder my whole body didn’t burst into flames.

“When I win this game, I intend to keep the prize.”

My lips parted, and I stopped breathing.

“I…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll be back for you, Demi.”

The next thing I knew, the line went dead.