Hotel. She had tried to get them to eat somewhere else because she didn’t want to chance running into Aiden, who lived in the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He traveled so much he was rarely there, but still, she didn’t want to risk it.
Then, during a phone conversation with Sophie, after Cordie had suggested two different restaurants, Sophie mentioned that Jack and Alec were going to be at the hotel playing poker with a couple of the Vice detectives from the Chicago Police Department.
“It’s their monthly poker game,” she said. “Jack thinks he has a chance of winning a hand or two since Aiden is still in San Francisco. Whenever Aiden plays, he wins.”
Cordie relaxed. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to control her reaction to him, and she had decided the only way she could move on with her life was to stay as far away from him as possible. She was more determined than ever not to turn into her father and waste her life hoping for the impossible.
After a stressful day rushing from one meeting to another, then enduring a frustrating session with the principal of St. Matthew’s, Cordie was ready for a glass of wine.
Regan had reserved one of the smaller private dining rooms at the Hamilton so they wouldn’t be disturbed. The room was just off the bar, and with the doors closed it was nearly soundproof, a perfect place to share secrets and gossip. They could laugh as loud as they wanted and not worry about bothering other diners. On the other side of the bar, tucked into an alcove, was the door to another dining room, one the men used for poker games. It was isolated from the rest of the hotel but close enough to the bar to get beer and anything else they wanted.
Cordie was supposed to meet her friends at seven thirty, and she hadn’t had time to go home and change her clothes. Dressed in a cream-colored pencil skirt, a deep-blue silk blouse, and nude high heels, she had looked very businesslike all day in her meetings, but she would have preferred to be wearing something more comfortable when she was with her friends. Her hair was driving her crazy hanging in her face, so she put it up in a ponytail. The long mass swung back and forth as she rushed through the shiny brass revolving doors into the Hamilton.
Cordie loved the hotel. There was a quiet elegance about the place. It had a contemporary feel with the shiny marble floors and granite pillars, yet the furnishings were old-world. The soothing colors and the comfortable seating areas made guests want to linger. She knew the Hamilton like the back of her hand; she had visited it at least once a week when Regan lived there before she got married.
Cordie realized she was practically running across the lobby and forced herself to slow down. A man dressed in a business suit and tie tried to engage her in conversation as she entered the bar. She smiled at him and shook her head to his invitation to buy her a drink. She walked past him and opened the door to the dining room but was blocked from going any farther. Aiden was standing just inside the doorway talking to Alec and Jack. He grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from rolling over him.
She wasn’t happy to see him and said the first thought that came into her mind. “Why aren’t you in San Francisco?” Her tone was accusatory, which she realized wouldn’t make a lick of sense to him. Before he could ask her what was wrong with her, she blurted, “Are you playing poker tonight?”
“Yes, I thought I would.” Aiden smiled then because he heard Jack groan. Glancing at him, he said, “Relax, MacAlister. You might win a hand. You never know. Miracles do happen.”
Cordie was distracted by his wonderful smile. It was so sexy. He was such a beautiful man. His eyes turned warm and tender when he was happy. Smiling was a rarity to him, though. He was usually very serious about everything, especially when he was working on his next hotel deal. There was no question Aiden was a
Then, during a phone conversation with Sophie, after Cordie had suggested two different restaurants, Sophie mentioned that Jack and Alec were going to be at the hotel playing poker with a couple of the Vice detectives from the Chicago Police Department.
“It’s their monthly poker game,” she said. “Jack thinks he has a chance of winning a hand or two since Aiden is still in San Francisco. Whenever Aiden plays, he wins.”
Cordie relaxed. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to control her reaction to him, and she had decided the only way she could move on with her life was to stay as far away from him as possible. She was more determined than ever not to turn into her father and waste her life hoping for the impossible.
After a stressful day rushing from one meeting to another, then enduring a frustrating session with the principal of St. Matthew’s, Cordie was ready for a glass of wine.
Regan had reserved one of the smaller private dining rooms at the Hamilton so they wouldn’t be disturbed. The room was just off the bar, and with the doors closed it was nearly soundproof, a perfect place to share secrets and gossip. They could laugh as loud as they wanted and not worry about bothering other diners. On the other side of the bar, tucked into an alcove, was the door to another dining room, one the men used for poker games. It was isolated from the rest of the hotel but close enough to the bar to get beer and anything else they wanted.
Cordie was supposed to meet her friends at seven thirty, and she hadn’t had time to go home and change her clothes. Dressed in a cream-colored pencil skirt, a deep-blue silk blouse, and nude high heels, she had looked very businesslike all day in her meetings, but she would have preferred to be wearing something more comfortable when she was with her friends. Her hair was driving her crazy hanging in her face, so she put it up in a ponytail. The long mass swung back and forth as she rushed through the shiny brass revolving doors into the Hamilton.
Cordie loved the hotel. There was a quiet elegance about the place. It had a contemporary feel with the shiny marble floors and granite pillars, yet the furnishings were old-world. The soothing colors and the comfortable seating areas made guests want to linger. She knew the Hamilton like the back of her hand; she had visited it at least once a week when Regan lived there before she got married.
Cordie realized she was practically running across the lobby and forced herself to slow down. A man dressed in a business suit and tie tried to engage her in conversation as she entered the bar. She smiled at him and shook her head to his invitation to buy her a drink. She walked past him and opened the door to the dining room but was blocked from going any farther. Aiden was standing just inside the doorway talking to Alec and Jack. He grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from rolling over him.
She wasn’t happy to see him and said the first thought that came into her mind. “Why aren’t you in San Francisco?” Her tone was accusatory, which she realized wouldn’t make a lick of sense to him. Before he could ask her what was wrong with her, she blurted, “Are you playing poker tonight?”
“Yes, I thought I would.” Aiden smiled then because he heard Jack groan. Glancing at him, he said, “Relax, MacAlister. You might win a hand. You never know. Miracles do happen.”
Cordie was distracted by his wonderful smile. It was so sexy. He was such a beautiful man. His eyes turned warm and tender when he was happy. Smiling was a rarity to him, though. He was usually very serious about everything, especially when he was working on his next hotel deal. There was no question Aiden was a
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