The Opium Room Read Online Free PDF Page A

worrying that Jill was lurking around the corner. He’d look jumpy like he was guilty of something. What would he tell Lea if she asked what Jill was doing on the family floor? He was already juggling plausible explanations in his head. Before a situation arose, he had to head this off, which meant telling Roman all his business about Lea. Not that there was much to tell—yet.
    “Look, Father,” Fox said calmly. “I know we don’t often engage in small talk, but I have to tell you, I’ve met someone whom I’m very interested in.”
    Roman opened a side drawer on his desk and poured a brandy. Fox craned his neck attempting to guide Roman’s attention back to him. “She’s staying in my room— hopefully—while she’s in town,” he continued. “Jill could royally screw that up for me.”
    Roman shrugged. Screwing the cap back on the bottle, he never looked up. “Tell the bitch you’ve got business with Jill. It’s the truth; I told her you would correspond with her about the expense reports at some point while she’s here.”
    Fox should cut ties with Roman right now—once and for all. If he wasn’t his father, he would’ve long ago. As hard as Roman was making Fox’s life, he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him to get the hell out of it.
    “That’s perfect,” Fox said. “You’re unbelievable. I don’t know how my mother could stand you long enough to conceive three of your children. How Erickson, Karrigan, and I turned out halfway decent is beyond my comprehension.”
    Roman didn’t flinch. Resilient old bastard.
    It’d been a while since Fox had said something so cruel to his father, but it wasn’t the first time.
    Wouldn’t be the last, either.

CHAPTER THREE
    —Lea
    After dinner, Karrigan ushered Lea onto one of two glass–encased elevators, which led to the hotel bar. After stepping off the elevator, a short catwalk led to the open–concept bar, which seemed to float above the hotel’s lobby, offering stunning views from above and below.
    Karrigan pulled out a black velvet covered chair at the bar and tapped the seat. “Make yourself comfortable.”
    “Thanks,” Lea said. Before she sat, she carefully draped her cardigan over the back of the seat.
    “Hey, Martin,” Karrigan called to the bow tie wearing bartender with the cropped black hair and five o’clock shadow. He was okay looking in a rugged sort of way. “Hook up my friend, Lea here, with a Beacon. I’ll have a Bud Light.”
    “Coming right up, Karri.” He put two napkins on the bar and turned around to grab a glass off the shelf.
    “What’s a Beacon?” Lea asked Karrigan.
    “Cherry Grey Goose, Cherry St. Germaine, and a splash of Lime Juice. It’s awesome.”
    “Sounds good to me.” Lea was an avid coffee drinker and that was about it. Alcoholic beverages were foreign to her but anything cherry, she presumed, had to be good. And she could stand to loosen up some before Fox returned.
    Lea almost panicked when Karrigan began unbuttoning her long–sleeved, pressed, tan shirt. Then she noticed the red tank top underneath. Karrigan removed the button–up and set it on the chair beside her. “God, I hate having to dress so prim and proper for the front desk. I can wear whatever shoes I want though. She raised the leg of her khaki pants and wiggled her Converse pump where Lea could see. “People can’t see behind the counter.”
    “I noticed your shoes earlier,” Lea said. “Very, very cool.”
    “Thanks,” Karrigan said with a big smile. “Everyone around here frowns on my fashion sense, but sorry for them.” She took a hairband out of her pants pocket and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Streaks of teal came into view that hadn’t been visible when her hair was down.
    Martin walked up with mixed drink and beer in hand and put them on the napkins. “Here you go, ladies. I like your new streaks,” he said to Karrigan. “Blue looks better on you than pink, I think.”
    “Thanks.”
    Martin