Mad about Meg Chapter Two

Rob watched the petite blonde who had attacked his driver so fiercely limp toward the hotel bar. After she left him in the parking lot, Rob questioned George about the incident, only to discover that his foolish chauffer had indeed run the poor woman off the road. George, a last minute replacement for his regular chauffer, had apparently thought to impress Rob by getting him to the hotel from the airport in record time. The only problem was Rob had been too tired to notice the man’s reckless attempt. He didn’t want to confess to the angry woman that he had nodded off and had actually been asleep during her terrible ordeal.
“Ah, Mr. Madison,” Pierre greeted him from behind the desk with a genuine smile. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you Pierre. It was quite a trip, I’m afraid. Everything okay here?” Rob couldn’t help, but look back toward the bar. The blonde had disappeared inside.
Noticing his glance, Pierre looked uneasy.
“I’m afraid the infamous Timothy has struck again.”
Rob had to fight to restrain a growl from emerging. Timothy had served as the reservation clerk for one month, until it came to the attention of Pierre, the hotel manager that he was imputing all the information into the computer wrong. As a result, none of the reservations taken during the idiotic man’s four weeks of employment were recorded.
“I thought we’d taken precautions against this?” Rob glanced back toward the bar where his hapless blonde had disappeared.
“Yes, sir. We hold back four rooms every night just in case. This weekend I kept eight rooms open, however, with it being so busy--”
“You’ve already given away all of those rooms.”
“And then some,” Pierre confessed. “I just sent a couple to the Wakefield Resort. I’ve called all over the island and there truly isn’t another room to be had. I was just thinking to myself that perhaps we were safe when she walked in.”
“Terrific.” Rob rubbed his hands over his travel weary face. He’d been in negotiations to purchase property in New York all week. Delay after delay kept him from leaving until finally this afternoon, with the ink still drying on the contract, he headed for his private jet, ready for some serious rest and relaxation. The last 36 months had been nonstop business meetings, conferences, and charity events and he was taking some well-earned vacation time. Glancing at his watch he considered leaving the woman to her own devices for a split second before turning and making his way toward the hotel bar.
The bar was fairly quiet and Rob could only assume most folks were resting up for the festivities set to begin tomorrow. He found her in a quiet corner nursing a drink and shivering. Stopping by the bar, he asked Todd, the bartender for his usual.
“And another one of whatever that young lady is having.” He gestured to the pretty young woman.
Todd smiled at his request. “Yes sir. A martini and another Scarlett O’Hara.”
Picking up the drinks, Rob studied her as he approached her table. Her face was truly lovely. She had a wholesome, girl-next-door look he found surprisingly appealing. Spending so much of his time with women who spent a small fortune on cosmetic surgery, personal trainers, and make-up, he found her natural appearance refreshing. Her long blonde hair was still damp from her run in the rain, but as it dried, natural ringlets appeared and he imagined it was quite thick and soft. She had a healthy red glow on her cheeks, no doubt from the running or perhaps the cold. Rob felt an instant attraction to her, something he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. She shivered again and Rob shook himself out of his reverie.
“Excuse me.” He graced her with the most charming, least threatening smile he could muster. No doubt, he had some making up to do.
“Hello again.” Her voice was soft, her tone distinctly friendlier than he expected.
“I was hoping I could join you for a few minutes.” He gestured to the two drinks in his hands.
Nodding, she pointed to the seat across from her. “Sure.”
“Peace offering.” He placed the red drink he’d bought in front of hers, hoping his joke might work.
Moving her empty glass out of the way, she smiled. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it was,” Rob answered. “My driver’s actions were reprehensible.”
She interrupted him. “No, please, you don’t have to apologize. I’m terribly embarrassed by my behavior. I’m sure you won’t believe this, but I’m typically not such a hateful bitch.”
“I didn’t think you were anything of the sort.” Rob was surprised by her apology. If anyone was in the wrong, it was clearly him, or at least George.
“Thank you for the drink.” She grinned before picking it up, silently toasting him and sipping it.
He had to laugh as he studied her drink. “Scarlett O’Hara?”
“It’s my favorite. Cranberry juice and Southern Comfort. I was planning on drinking only fruity, island concoctions, but after the day’s events, I needed a stiff drink.”
“Ah, I see,” Rob said. “If I’m not mistaken, do I detect a bit of a southern accent?”
“Just a bit. I’m from Northern Virginia. Most folks there can’t decide if they’re northerners or southerners! I like to refer to myself as a middler. How about you? Where do you hang up your hat?”
“Everywhere,” Rob answered honestly. “My work keeps me traveling pretty much non-stop.”
“And during your childhood?”
“Army brat.” It wasn’t difficult to acknowledge that he truly didn’t have roots anywhere in the world. He owned homes on both coasts as well as in three different countries, but he never spent more than a month at a time in any of them. Watching her try to hide her shivering, he stood and took off his suit jacket.
“Here.” He draped it around her shoulders. “You’re about to shake yourself off that chair.”
She started to protest, but he cut her off, “I insist.”
“Thank you. So what’s this business of yours that doesn’t allow you to settle down?”
Rob was taken aback by the question. Surely she knew who he was. Looking closely at her, he determined she truly didn’t know him. Used to being recognized instantly, Rob silently savored this anonymity.
“Uh,” he stumbled, unwilling to give up this unique experience. “Just a businessman. Real estate and that kind of thing.” He realized his answer was vague at best.
“You must do well, given your mode of transportation.”
“Company car.” He wasn’t so sure why he was intent on keeping up pretenses. For some strange reason, he liked the way this tired, petite woman looked at him. She was talking to him as an equal, almost treating him as you would a new friend. Her eyes weren’t filled with dollar signs, trying to figure out how much he was really worth. Silently he laughed at himself. He spent nearly a decade amassing more wealth than he could ever spend, earning and demanding the respect of his peers, yet here he was down-playing his career successes so he could continue this simple, friendly conversation.
“How about you? What job keeps you tied to the middle of the country?”
She laughed. “Oh, I have a terribly exciting job. I’m a special ed. teacher.”
Rob didn’t share her laughter. “It may not be what you consider exciting, but I can’t imagine anything more worthwhile.”
At his compliment, she gave him the most genuine smile he’d ever received. “I happen to agree with you. I love my kids and my job.”
“Are you with a private facility?” He was shocked to find himself so interested in learning everything he could about this fascinating young woman.
“Oh, heck no,” she said with a grin, “public education all the way. I teach at a high school.”
“Ah,” he teased, “I see now how you can afford such a fancy vacation. Making the big bucks as a public servant. Is Valentine’s Day considered a national holiday for the school system?”
She giggled lightly before her smile turned to a grimace. “I saved up all my vacation days for this trip, and truth be told, I’ll be paying this ill-fated adventure off my credit card for many years to come.”
“Ill-fated.” He recalled that for all intents and purposes, she was homeless for the night.
“You couldn’t believe my last 24 hours.”
“Try me.”
Where to begin?” Her laugh was strained. “Due to mechanical problems, my first flight was re-routed to Houston and delayed long enough that I missed my original connecting flight in Florida. My scheduled seven hours of travel time turned into 21.”
“Ouch.” He was teasing, but she continued.
“I broke my cell phone, my luggage is somewhere in Timbuktu, the sporty little convertible I reserved weeks ago was downgraded to an ancient mini-van that your chauffeur left in a ditch a half a mile down the road. My sunny paradise has turned into hurricane hell and I have nowhere to stay tonight as this so-called luxury resort lost my reservation. Please bear in mind that is just today’s run of bad luck and doesn’t include the fact that I am alone in this damned lover’s paradise because I caught my fiancé cheating on me on Christmas Eve and my plane fare was nonrefundable.” She spoke with a lightheartedness he couldn’t understand given her horrible experiences.
“Wow.” He wasn’t sure how to respond and was shocked further when she simply laughed at his reply.
“My sentiments exactly.”
“So.” He looked at her calmly sitting in the hotel bar and wondered at her poise. “What’s your plan?”
She seemed to consider his question before replying. “That’s actually what I was trying to work out when you came in. I thought I’d drink a little courage.” She lifted her drink to her lips again.
“Courage?”
“Well, I figure the liquor will serve two purposes. One, it will warm me up on the inside before I have to run back out into the freezing cold rain again. And two, hopefully it will get me drunk enough that it won’t bother me to sleep in my lousy rental car by the side of the road.”
“That’s your brilliant plan?” He was angry at the recklessness of it.
“I don’t remember calling it brilliant. Simply a plan.” Her humor in the face of such a dreary and potentially dangerous night began grating on his nerves. “I only have to make it through the next few hours and then I’ll call the car rental place about towing me out of the ditch and I’ll catch the next flight out of here. Guess that will teach me for trying to live like the rich and famous for a few days.”
Rob sat silently for several minutes brooding over the fact he was one of the rich and famous she was referring to and feeling incredibly guilty as he pictured in his mind the luxurious penthouse suite awaiting him. One of the perks of owning the hotel.
“You can’t sleep in your car.”
“I don’t think that guy out there.” She pointed toward Pierre at the front desk. “Would like it if I sacked out on the couch in the foyer. This place doesn’t exactly strike me as the type that would cater to vagrancy.”
“You’ll stay with me.” The words came without thought, but Rob found himself immediately warming up to the idea of spending more time with this refreshingly pleasant woman.
“Oh, now hang on a minute.” She threw her hands up. “I appreciate the drink, but there’s no way--”
He didn’t let her finish her protests. “Hear me out,” he said quickly. “My company owns the penthouse of this hotel. It’s a two bedroom suite. You can have the other room for tonight. It even has its own bathroom. You can lock the door and pretend like it’s your own hotel room. There is simply no way I’m going to let you sleep on the side of a busy road in the middle of a storm.”
“There isn’t much traffic out there now with all the rain.” Her argument weak at best and Rob knew she knew it.
“I’m serious. You’ve had a hell of a day and an unbelievably long string of bad luck. Why not give yourself a break?
“With my luck such as it is,” she added, “I’d probably get rear-ended by a tractor-trailer.”
“Exactly,” he answered. “You have to admit my plan is better than yours and a hell of a lot safer.”
“That remains to be seen.” Rob considered the fact that she was seriously debating turning him down. He’d never had to beg a woman to share a room with him. Hell, most nights he was the one having hotel keys thrust at him. After all, he was Rob Madison, owner of this and a string of other luxury hotels all over the world. He had topped Fortune’s list of most eligible billionaires the last three years running. He watched as she chewed on her lower lip, clearly nervous about his proposition. He supposed from her perspective he was a stranger and she would be consenting to sharing a hotel suite with him.
“The bedroom door locks?” She grimaced as soon as she realized the insult. “I mean, I just--”
“It locks.” He offered her what he hoped looked like a friendly grin. “If it makes you feel any better, you can ask Pierre to call every hour to check and make sure I haven’t ravished you yet.”
Rising slowly, she nodded her agreement. “Well, okay, but just for tonight.”
Incredibly pleased with her response, he reached for her hand and she let him pull her forward a few feet before he suddenly stopping. “You know. I don’t even know your name.”
“Meg Williams”
“Short for Megan?”
She crinkled her nose in an adorable fashion. “No, actually it’s short for Margaret, but don’t you dare call me that.”
“Family name, Margaret?”
“My mother’s favorite book was Gone with the Wind and for some unknown reason she selected my name in honor of Margaret Mitchell, the author.”
“And I’m assuming from your tone that wouldn’t have been your choice?”
“For Pete’s sake! Of all the names associated with that book, she lands on Margaret? What’s wrong with Melanie or Katie Scarlett, even?” Meg asked with a laugh. “Of course, it could have been worse, I suppose.”
“Oh, how so?”
“If I had been a boy, she was going to name me Mitchell.”
Laughing, Rob took her hand again leading her to the elevator before she pulled him up short.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Looking around, Rob shrugged, wondering what he could have forgotten.
“Your name?”
“Ah, Rob.” He paused for only a moment before adding a little white lie. “Mason. Rob Mason.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught Pierre’s startled glance, but he ignored him and the guilt associated with his look.
Meg offered her hand in introduction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rob Mason.”