Anything For You. Kristan Higgins
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Hudson. Full complimentary breakfast and a welcome cocktail. The beds were king-size; Jess still slept in a twin in the room she shared with her brother. A huge tub and a fancy, glassed-in shower. A flower arrangement in the lobby the size of a small car.
She turned around and saw Hugo, smiling sheepishly. “I thought you might like to get out of town.”
“Hugo,” she began, but her words stopped there.
“Just promise you’ll go. I can even check in on your brother, okay? And don’t you cry! Are those tears in your eyes? Don’t you dare, or I’ll fire you.”
A few days later she kissed her brother, pried his arms from around her neck, told him Chico Two would take good care of him, warned her parents to stay sober, reminded her mother of the heating instructions for the casserole she’d cooked the night before and got in the car.
She was going to a hotel. The class would be fine, sure, but she was going to stay in a hotel.
The four-hour drive flew by, and as the miles passed, Jessica felt...light. Yes, she was worried about Davey, but she’d be back tomorrow afternoon. She fully intended to sleep late and eat that breakfast. But she would be staying in a gorgeous hotel near the Vanderbilt Mansion and the Culinary Institute of America. She planned to have dinner in the hotel dining room, and if there was a wedding there this weekend, she might peek in the ballroom—because her hotel had a ballroom! A bath in that tub, definitely. Her house didn’t have a tub, just a shower with mold growing on the caulk, no matter how much bleach she sprayed on it.
When she finally got to the hotel, it was even prettier than the internet pictures. Her heart pounded as she walked in. She should’ve brought a suitcase, rather than her backpack, but hey, it was fine. She looked casual, that was all.
“How are you today?” asked the older man behind the counter.
“I’m just fine,” she said. “Jessica Dunn.”
He clicked a few keys on his computer. “And I see all expenses are covered by a Hugo’s Restaurant?”
“Oh. Um, yes. My employer.”
“What do you do for them?”
For a second, she was tempted to say she was a manager, or the sommelier, not that Hugo had one, or the chef. “I’m on the waitstaff.”
He gave her a quick once-over, then handed her a key. “I’ve upgraded you to a junior suite,” he said. “Enjoy your stay with us. I’m off at seven. Perhaps I can buy you a drink.”
“I’m afraid I have plans,” she said, “but thank you. I really appreciate the offer.”
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said.
The one thing her parents had given her was good looks. That, and Davey. She knew she was beautiful, and at this moment, she was glad. Sure, the horny old guy was hitting on her. But it had gotten her a junior suite, whatever that was. It sure sounded amazing.
And it was. It was flippin’ huge. There was a couch—a sleek gray couch with orange pillows, and the bed was like an ocean of white with an orange throw draped across the end. Flat-screen TV! There was a Gideon’s Bible in one night table drawer, and an “intimacy kit” in another—condoms and massage oil. Ahem. There was even a minibar! Not that she drank, but it was pretty anyway, all the top-shelf booze and snacks. Nine dollars for a pack of M&Ms, imagine that.
The towels were pure white, and the bathroom had so many light switches—one for the shower, one for the mirror, one under the counter like a night-light or something. And holy heck, a bathrobe made of cotton so soft it was like a cloud. Slippers! And the shampoo and shower gel and conditioner were all L’Occitane, which Jess assumed was really expensive and sure smelled that way.
She went to the window, which overlooked a small park and the Hudson River. The day was gray and a little cold. It was maybe the prettiest view Jess had ever seen.
She went back into the bathroom and turned on the faucets in the enormous tub.
This was going to be the best weekend of her life.
As the tub filled, she called home. As expected, Davey answered. He was a total phone hog.
“Hey, Davey,” she said.
“I miss you. When are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow. You know that. You want to hear about my hotel?”
“Okay.”
“It’s got a big bed. Really big. Bigger than Mom and Dad’s.”
“Did you jump on it?”
“Not yet,” she said with a grin. “And a tub. I’m going to take a bubble bath.”
“That sounds fun.”
“We’ll have a tub in our new house.”
“Okay! What else is there?”
“Room service, where they bring you food on a tray.”
“Did you get some? Do they have cheeseburgers? And cake? That’s what I would get!”
Someday, Jess thought as she talked to her brother, she’d bring Davey wherever he wanted to go. Disney World, probably, and they’d stay in a nice hotel like this one.
But this weekend was just hers, and to someone who didn’t have a lot that fell into that category, it was a very nice thought, indeed.
Eleven years before the proposal...
WHEN JESSICA DUNN walked into the room where Connor was teaching Wine 101 at the CIA his senior year, he didn’t recognize her at first.
Instead, he felt an instant crush of heat and attraction. It took him a full three seconds to realize who it was—three seconds of Holy Mary, she’s beautiful before he realized who it was. Not that she had changed; just that it was so strange to see her here, at his school.
The other thing that surprised him was the surge of happiness that followed the knee-jerk attraction.
Most of the students for this kind of half-day class were older people, interested in wine now that they had some time on their hands and money to spend. A lot of couples, a lot of girlfriends looking for something fun to do.
He would guess that Jess wasn’t here for any of those reasons. She drifted near him, clearly alone in this class of pairs and groups.
“Hey, Jess,” he said when she was within three feet of him.
She was equally unprepared to see him, it seemed, because she jumped a little, her cheeks turning pink. “Hi, Connor. I...I forgot you came here.”
“It’s my last year. How are you?”
Almost without thinking—almost—he hugged her. She didn’t pull away but she didn’t exactly hug him back, either, just patted his side.
“Sorry,” he said with a grin. “It’s good to see a face from home.”
“Yeah,” she said, but something flickered in her eyes.
Right. She never did like him.
Since the day her dog bit him—well, since the week after her dog bit him—Jessica had given him a wide berth, which made him a rarity among the males of their class. She was never rude to him after that one aborted punch, but she never talked to him, either. Not willingly. Even so, it felt as if an invisible copper wire connected them, occasionally flaring with electricity and light. He could sense her sometimes, just on that particular buzz.
If she felt it, too, she was excellent at ignoring it.
During chemistry their junior year, they were lab partners, and she talked to him then. But only about