Chapter 34: The Trouble with Gorgeous Models/Heiresses

“Oh, I don’t know,” Octavia answered, “contemplating the meaning of life, I suppose.”

The woman directed a look of pure scorn down at Octavia.

“Would you get out of my way then?” she said.

Octavia glanced to both sides of her, where there was more than enough space for the lady before her to simply go around Octavia’s sprawled form and puddle of towels.

She looked back up. “Couldn’t you just go around me?”

A delicate scowl swept over the woman’s face.

“I’ll not ask again. Out. Of. My. Way.”

Octavia frowned. She propped herself up and swung herself to sit upright, the paper towel sea swishing around her as she did.

“Not a very polite person, are you?” she asked.

The designer bag hanging off the woman’s right hand swung with the quivering of her slender body.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” she demanded.

“I was merely making an observation. It’s completely up to you to change that,” Octavia said. Feeling quite relaxed, she rested each of her hands on one of her crossed knees.

The woman narrowed her eyes and glared at Octavia.

“I’m going to speak to the hotel manager about this. When you get fired and kicked out of here, that will be a lesson on why you should never talk back to me.”

Octavia noted she mentioned the “me” part as if that were somehow significant.

“Um, actually…I don’t even work—”

“Save it,” the woman snapped. “Don’t try to beg me to let this go. You’re a goner.” Her electric-blue eyes darted around the space and alighted on a portly man in a suit trimmed to match the wall décor.

“You there!” she called, gesturing the man over to them. The man looked up and stopped walking in the direction he was moving in.

His face seemed to pale at the sight of the woman standing before Octavia, but he straightened his jacket and swiftly made his way to them.

“What can I do for you, Miss Scott?” he asked without noticing Octavia…or the paper towels.

Miss Scott waved a hand toward Octavia. “This employee of yours has been very disrespectful. I want her gone.”

The man didn’t miss a beat before nodding and saying, “Of course.” He looked down to Octavia and paused with a look of confusion.

“Er…which department are you from?” he asked.

Octavia found she was quite enjoying herself. “The paper towel department,” she said with a grin.

“I beg your pardon?” the man asked.

“We specialize in DIY floor carpeting—with paper towels.” Octavia threw up a few coils of the towels around her. “It’s sustainable, ecological, and recyclable. Just not practical.”

Octavia leaned back, her palms flat on the floor behind her and beamed up at Ms. Scott and the hotel manager. Neither of them returned her cheerful expression.

“Young lady,” the manager said sternly, “if you don’t cooperate and tell me what department you’re in immediately, I will be forced to take drastic measures—”

“I’ll make sure you never work in a reputable establishment like this one ever again,” Ms. Scott said vehemently.

“What a shame”—Octavia sighed—“considering I’ve never worked in a ‘reputable establishment’ like this.”

The manager blinked in confusion, “You’re not an employee?”

“Nope,” Octavia said.

“Are you a…guest?” he ventured, dreading the answer.

“Yup,” Octavia answered blithely.

Ms. Scott’s delicate nostrils flared with rage. “I don’t care if she’s in the presidential suite. I want this vermin out!”

The manager looked frantically between Ms. Scott and Octavia. One of the establishment’s esteemed customers would have to be prioritized, and it was clear who that had to be.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not that prestigious,” Octavia said, “I’m only here with my employer. Maybe you should talk to him.”

“And who might that be?” the manager asked.

“Well, actually, it’s—”

Before Octavia could reply, she noticed the tall, imposing figure approaching the spot where she sat.

“Speak of the devil,” she said with an even wider grin.

Ms. Lila Scott, still staring down Octavia with venomous blue eyes, snapped, “Answer the question you disgusting, horrible, little—”

“Octavia,” Raemon’s voice, deep and resonating, cut her off.

Both the manager and Ms. Scott whirled around at the sound of his voice. Both the manager and Ms. Scott were visibly shaken by the sight of him and the recognition of who he was.

Because, of course, they knew who he was.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor?” Raemon said, ignoring the hotel manager gaping at him and the narrowed electric-blue eyes of Ms. Scott, taking in his entire form.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Octavia said, gesturing to the paper towels. “Baking a pie.”

Raemon shook his head. “I swear I can’t let you out of my sight for a minute without you getting into trouble.”

“Mr. Raemon Kentworth…sir!” the manager stammered.

Raemon directed a cool glance at him, surveying the shaken manager impassively. “Yes, I’m aware of my own name.”

“You’re her…you employ this…er, young lady?” the manager said, his eyes desperate for the answer to be no.

“Unfortunately,” Raemon said, his gaze shifting back down to Octavia. “Yes. She is my assistant.”

Ms. Scott suddenly decided to speak. “Raemon Kentworth,” she said, her voice taking on a tone of sweetness, “a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lila Scott. The Lila Scott. Of the Bridlington-Scotts.”

She glanced up at him coyly through her dark lashes. “But of course…you probably know that.”

Raemon gave Lila Scott the same fleeting impassive glance he had directed at the manager before wordlessly turning back down to Octavia.

“Get off the floor, assistant,” he said.

“Actually, I’m really comfortable down here,” Octavia said.

“I don’t doubt that you are,” Raemon said. “You still have to get up. I’ll be late for my meeting.”

Octavia sighed but then picked herself off the floor.

“I have to get rid of all this,” Octavia told Raemon, pointing to the towels.

“Let someone else handle it,” Raemon said.

“I can do it, okay? Just let me shove them in that trash can—”

The hotel manager jumped into action. “There’s no need,” he said, “I’ll have someone come by to clean up the mess immediately.”

Octavia was already bending down to scoop up the towels. “No, really, it’s okay. I’ll just gather them up and—”

“Never mind, never mind,” the manager said, “we’ll take care of that for you Mr. Kentworth.” He kneeled and started snatching the streams of paper towels away from Octavia. “You see? All done. No need to take the trouble. Now if there’s anything else you require, Mr. Raemon Kentworth…sir!”

While Octavia had the manager practically yanking the paper towels from her hands, she felt a firm hand curl around her arm and pull her to a standing position.

“We’re going,” Raemon said.

“But I should still—” Octavia started.

Raemon was already pulling her away from the spot where the hotel manager was still gathering up the bunches of towels, exclaiming what an honor it was to have Raemon stay at his hotel.

And he hoped everything had been to his satisfaction, and if it wasn’t, just say the word and whatever needed to be changed would be changed—even if they had to demolish the building and build it back up again.

While the two of them left, Ms. Lila Scott watched. She folded her arms across her chest.

“Raemon Kentworth,” she said to herself, “I will have you.”

“You?!” Octavia spluttered. Her hand was frozen on the handle of the door to the lounge outside her boss’s office, and only one of her Converse-clad feet was even in the room.

Lila Bridlington-Scott uncrossed one long leg from over the other and stood, giving Octavia the full view of her black mini dress, the pleats billowing gently around her tiny thighs.

The rest of the fabric wrapped around her elegant, slender body, accentuating her impossibly small waist, slender arms, and surprisingly ample breasts.

“Ugh, it’s the assistant,” Lila said.

Octavia frowned. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Kentworth or something?”

Lila smirked. “No. I don’t need one.”

Octavia replied, “I’m pretty sure you do.”

Lila smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her outfit.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a coffee or something? Medium roast, low fat, no sugar, no whip, and only one shot of stevia.” With that, she sat back down on one of the couches.

Octavia looked at her watch. She had just gotten to work; her first morning after the day off she had been given following the trip. Her watch face blinked 7:01.

Strange, she didn’t think Raemon would schedule a meeting this early. Or that he had any intention of meeting with the random stranger she’d bumped into back at the conference hotel.

“How did you even get in here?” Octavia asked, stepping into the room.

Lila looked up, seemingly annoyed that Octavia was still there and not dashing off to fill her order.

“Hello?” Lila said. “Coffee. Now.”

“Yeah…I don’t really do that,” Octavia said.

“That’s not my problem. I asked for coffee. Get it.”

“Wow. Your skills of comprehension are incredibly sharp,” Octavia remarked.

Lila’s eyes became narrow blue slits. “Excuse me?” She nearly choked in disbelief. “How dare you say that to me? Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Didn’t we already do this?” Octavia said. “Look, if you’re here to see Mr. Kentworth, he doesn’t get to the office till later. And I’m not even sure you should be up here in the first place—”

In a rush, Adelaide cluttered into the room. Both Octavia and Lila started at her hurried entrance.

“Ms. Scott,” Adelaide said between hurried breaths, “I do hope you’re comfortable,” she said.

“You need to teach your employees how to have more respect,” Lila said, scowling in Octavia’s direction.

“Noted,” Octavia said, “I could say the same thing about—”

“Octavia!” Adelaide interrupted. There was a wild look of panic in her eyes. “I…need you in my office. Immediately.”

Octavia sighed. “Okay, fine, just let me grab my—”

“No!” Adelaide demanded, grabbing Octavia by the arm. “NOW.”