His Favourite distraction

Chapter2

Ihadn’t slept all night, and the bags under my eyes were proof. Somehow, I needed to find a guy. Not just any guy—a man I didn’t even know.

Breathe, Ash.

My first priority was getting to work on time. Emphasis on try.

The bell above the café door jingled as I stumbled in, panting and wheezing.

“I’m on time!” I announced.

A few customers glanced up at the unfit blonde girl in the doorway, while the regulars barely looked away from their mugs.

“You’re two minutes late,” came the hiss. Correction—the she-devil in human form, otherwise known as Tash.

“No, I’m not,” I argued.

She pointed to the clock behind me. “Nine-oh-two. You were supposed to be here at nine sharp.”

I shrugged. “I’ve asked you to change my shift to a time when the birds aren’t still asleep. So really, you can’t blame me.”

“My grandmother owns this place,” she snapped. “So abide by the rules—or say goodbye to your final paycheck.”

And with that, Tash flounced off, probably to grumble to her baby about the evil Alice.

I dabbed at an imaginary tear, then broke into a grin. Her empty threats never failed to amuse me. Her grandmother—the actual owner—was a sweet woman who’d been cursed with a granddaughter straight out of hell.

I tied on an apron and got to work, taking orders. The first came from a familiar ginger who was holding hands with an unusually calm Liam.

“The usual,” Diana said.

“No please?” I arched a brow.

“Oh, please, Alice. Please, give me some of those cookies and a skinny latte—with a cherry on top.” She clasped her hands dramatically.

“Calm down. What are you even doing here this early?”

“She woke me up,” Liam grumbled.

“Yes, I did,” Diana admitted. “Because I have a confession.”

I clapped my hands. “Congratulations. Admitting your drug dependency is the first step toward rehab. This is for the best, Di.”

“f**k you,” she muttered, glaring. “For your information, I may have done something profitable. Or not. Depends on your success.”

“You put yourself in my will?”

“That would be a loss. I’d end up with your broken phone or some other useless junk.”

“How rude.”

“I know. Anyway—I placed a bet on your love life.”

My jaw dropped. “For or against me?”

“For, you i***t. It was a lot of money, so you’d better win.” Diana twirled her hair around her finger. “Luckily for you, I came prepared. Got you a love potion.” She pulled a tiny bottle of clear liquid from her bag.

Hesitantly, I took it. “Where did you even get this?”

“From a hobo witch doctor.”

I jerked my head toward her so fast I nearly snapped my neck. “Seriously?”

Her laugh pierced the café. “No. A tacky Halloween shop. It was on sale.”

With my heartbeat returning to normal, I slipped the potion into my pocket. Who knew? Maybe it would work. “Thanks. But I don’t even know how to find him. A name or a picture might help.”

“Arthur Cross,” she recited. “Just turned twenty-five. New owner of multiple hotels and resorts around the world.”

“You know a lot about him.”

“I agree,” Liam muttered, lifting his head from the table. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all. Everyone knows the same stuff,” Diana said easily.

I had the sudden urge to look him up—to see the man I was apparently meant to seduce. Well, maybe not seduce. “I’ll go get your orders.”

Later that night, I curled up on my bed with my laptop and typed in Arthur Cross.

He was handsome—wavy brown hair, a sharp jawline. Very important qualities. Articles and pictures popped up, most of them featuring him with beautiful women.

Is Arthur dating Norwegian model Alexis Tollenton?

Arthur Cross opens six new hotels, expected to make millions

Seen with a ring! Read more about the Cross heir’s mystery woman

Ring? My stomach flipped. I clicked the link, but it was the only site running the theory. I decided to ignore it. Gossip columns didn’t count as research.

I sighed and leaned back onto my pillow—except it slipped out from under me, sending me crashing onto the floor with a thud.

The neighbors below immediately pounded on their ceiling.

“Sorry, Mr. Resoti!” I yelled back.

Which only set off more complaints from other apartments.

I rolled my eyes. “f**k you all!” I shouted, loud enough for them to hear.

And just like that, the screaming match began. I shoved my headphones in, determined to ignore them. Sooner or later, my landlord would kick me out, but until then, it was my personal mission to annoy every single one of them.

I refocused on my “research.” The first site I opened claimed he liked the color red. My nose wrinkled. Red? Of all the colors? I scrolled further. He hated pets. Okay, that was actually fine. I wouldn’t know what to do with them anyway.

I jotted down a few more notes, then moved on to his socials. Twitter was perfect for stalking friends... and, apparently, future boyfriends who didn’t know I existed.

His latest tweet made me sit bolt upright.

@ArthurCross: Arriving in New York tomorrow morning. Staying at the main hotel.

Tomorrow?!