“I was going to give the hotel a call to see if I can set up a meeting to look over the space again.”

“We were just there.”

“Yeah, but now I want to see it empty, without all of Chicago’s upper crust loitering in it.”

He laughs at me and then says, “Sweetheart, don’t you forget that you are as upper crust as they get.”

“And I only have you to thank for that, darling,” I tease. “But seriously, I want to see what the space looks like empty and talk to management to find out if they have any new leads on vendors. I’d like to step out of the norm from what we’ve done the past couple of years.”

“As long as it has your hand in it, it will be amazing. Everything you touch turns to perfection. Just look at me.”

“Perfection, huh? Well, I can’t argue with that ego of yours. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“And I you,” he compliments before saying, “The car just pulled up to the hotel, so I need to let you go.”

“Okay. Try not to work too hard. I miss you.”

“Miss you too, love. Have a good day.”

We hang up and I let out a deep breath. Talking to him like that used to be difficult in the beginning, but now it’s as natural as wanting to wipe dog shit off your shoe.

I walk into my closet to pull out the clutch I took to the party the other night. Opening it, I take out the business card that Declan gave me and walk back out to the living room to make the call.

“Lotus,” a woman’s voice purrs.

“Declan McKinnon, is he available?”

“And who shall I say is calling?”

“Nina Vanderwal.”

She puts me on hold for a moment and when the line is picked up, she tells me, “Mr. McKinnon is finishing up a meeting. Would you like me to take a message?”

“Well, I don’t want to disturb his schedule, but I will be organizing an event and would like to come see the main ballroom space and discuss vendors.”

“Of course. Let me direct you over to our manager,” she says before transferring me.

After a brief chat with the hotel manager, we set up a meeting an hour from now. Hanging up the phone, I call Baldwin to have the car ready to drive me over to the hotel. When he arrives, I’m ready as he helps me slip my coat on over my ivory silk top that’s tucked into my tailored, black, wool pants.

“Are you ready?” Baldwin asks as I grab my purse.

“Ready.”

We ride down on the elevator, and as we walk through the lobby, the car has already been pulled around out front.

“Watch your step,” Baldwin says as I maneuver around the small ice patches in my high heels.

When I arrive at Lotus, I walk in and am greeted by the manager who is waiting for me. He leads me into the ballroom, and I take note of the space. The main seating area will easily accommodate the event, and there is an attached lounge that houses various cigars and liquors that are displayed around the dark mahogany room. The bar is broad and masculine, and the woodwork is quite impressive. It’s a shame all this was hidden beneath the sea of people that was here at the grand opening. The setting is an intimate one despite the vast size of the room. The dance floor is situated down a small flight of stairs, setting it off from the dining room, creating a less hectic atmosphere for entertaining.

A familiar accent catches me off guard as I’m walking around and taking notes in my memo book.

“How does she look?” His brogue casts through the room, and when I turn to catch his eye, I ask, “Excuse me?”

Scanning the space, he clarifies, “The space, I mean. Looks different empty, doesn’t it?”

Turning my head to admire the décor, I say, “Yes. I was just thinking about how much detail I failed to see the other night with all the people here.”

He walks over to me, looking polished in his slacks and fitted button-up, sans suit jacket and tie, with a slight grin on his face, and reaches out for my hand and finally greets, “It’s good to see you again, Nina.”

The way my name is caressed by his accent is without a doubt sexy as hell.

As he brushes his lips over my knuckles, the stubble along his jaw grazing over the soft skin of my hand, I don’t respond, but when he keeps his hold a beat too long, I pull away. His smirk remains, as if amused by my reaction.

He casually turns to the man that was showing me around and dismisses him. Turning back to me, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks and asks, “So, what do you think?”

“I think my husband was right; it’s the perfect place to host the party.”

“Great. Did you need to look around anymore?”

“I think I’ve gotten my fill for the moment.”

He seems humored by something, maybe me, and pulls his hands out of his pockets, placing one on my back as he leads me out of the room.

“Let’s go to my office and discuss the details then.”

We make our way into his office, and I stand in the center of the oversized room as he walks over to his desk, moving with a relaxed confidence, and grabs the laptop. He nods his head towards the leather couch, saying, “Please, have a seat.”

I situate myself and open my planner, flipping through the pages to find my calendar, when I feel his eyes on me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask when I look up at him, feigning my annoyance.

“Where does one even buy a paper planner anymore?” he teases.

“Lots of places.”

“I haven’t seen one of those in years. You do know they make these things called tablets now.”

Smiling at his banter, I say, “Yes. Every now and then I’m able to crawl out from under my rock to keep up to speed with modern technology, thank you.”

He shakes his head and laughs as I watch his smile reach his green eyes and crinkle at the corners.

“Do you even own one?” he asks, still smirking at me.

“No.”

He doesn’t respond, but his unfaltering look pulls out my answer to his unspoken ‘Why?’

“I like privacy. Technology disrupts that. I can burn paper and throw the ashes away as if it never existed. Untraceable.” Giving the sly grin back to him, I add, “But you? Don’t you think it’s foolish that you’re putting yourself out there? To be exposed?”

“Is this a riddle?”

I laugh, ignoring his question as I flip through my calendar and confirm, “You have December 31st open, correct?”

Sighing, he shifts and looks at his laptop, saying, “Yes.”

“Great. Bennett likes to keep this event small, two hundred or so. Security is important to him—”

“You as well?” he interrupts and I soften my face, smile, and say, “Yes. Me, as well. As I was saying, guests will need to check in, so will your staff provide that amenity?”

“Anything you want.”

We spend the next hour discussing ideas for setup and scheduling meetings with a few vendors for the next couple of weeks before I call to have Baldwin pick me up. Declan’s well-bred manners sway to the salacious side with the way he kisses me when I leave, gripping my upper arms in his hands and dragging his lips along my cheek before pressing his lips on the shell of my ear, whispering, “Until next time.”

DECLAN CALLED ME two days ago to confirm my meeting with the florist. He recommended the company located in Andersonville that his hotel uses to outfit the lobby, so I agreed. After discussing the masked ball theme with Bennett this morning, he gave me the green light, which made me happy. I can tell he misses me from our phone call—he wasn’t quick to hang up—but he’ll be returning from Dubai tomorrow evening. Despite his loneliness, he was happy to have acquired the production plant that he set out to buy from the nearly bankrupt company over there.

The drive to Andersonville takes longer than usual with the weather. Winters in Chicago are brutal to the city but a brutality that I enjoy. So as I ride in the backseat, I find myself watching the white snow hit the window and slowly melt to a drizzling cascade down the glass.