Page 165 of Little Sunshine

Okay then.

I was about to take my coffee into the bedroom when Ash glanced up from the screen and crooked a finger at me. I walked over, and he plucked the mug from my hand and set it on the table before settling me on his lap and handing it back.

All without missing a beat as he talked to Maximo about some bid they’d received. I had no idea what they meant until I glanced at the screen.

“That’s awful.”

Maximo nodded. “That’s what I said.”

I looked at the photo of a hotel room.

“What’s your issue with it?” Ash asked.

I waited to hear what Maximo had to say.

A hand squeezed my thigh. “I’m talking to you.”

“Oh. Well, there’s a long list. Whoever designed this has clearly never cleaned a room in their lives.” I pointed toward the slatted accent wall. “This is cool in small amounts like a headboard, but dust is going to accumulate in that entire wall no matter how thoroughly someone cleans.” I pointed at the cluster of futuristic furniture positioned right between the bed and the window. “First of all, it’s ugly.” I regretted the words as soon as they slipped from my mouth. “That’s probably just my opinion, though?—”

“No, it’s ugly,” Maximo agreed. “What else?”

Drawing on my experience as a housekeeper, I pointed out half a dozen other issues between the main room and the bathroom that would annoy guests and housekeeping. When I was done, I picked up my coffee and said, “You’d think if they were going to AI a picture, they’d at least make it better.”

Ash’s body went tight at the same time Maximo asked, “What?”

“It might just be a very bad Photoshop attempt to spruce it up, but I’m almost positive it’s AI. Aren’t these mockup options for your new hotel?”

He shook his head. “When I told them what I’m looking for, they said they’d done something similar, and I asked for photos. These are supposed to be them.”

I pointed out where the shadows didn’t match up how they should’ve.

“Waste of damn time.” Ash clicked out of the window and deleted the email.

“If you need an interior designer”—I flung a hand toward all the nothingness—“just have Ash do it.”

“If you’ve got ideas,” Ash said, “let me know, and I’ll have it done.”

I started laughing, but he didn’t join me. “I’m serious. You’re better at it than those lying bastards. And since my rooms in all four hotels look like this, it’s not like I’m an expert.”

I didn’t say anything, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about the possibilities.

Functional possibilities that didn’t involve angular chairs that could poke an eye out.

Ash lifted me from his lap and went into the bedroom. He returned less than a second later. “Where’s the shirt?”

“The hamper.”

His expression was enough to make a phantom burn spread across my ass.

After he disappeared, Maximo stood and gathered his stuff. “Juliet is still sleeping, but text her later.”

“I will.”

Maybe do that.

His eyes narrowed like he could read my mind, but then he just smirked as he shook his head.

Ash returned a minute later wearing the same dark blue suit and charcoal gray shirt he had been—just with the addition of the undershirt. He pulled me in for another inappropriately intense kiss. “I should be done before dinner.” His voice lowered. “And you have a punishment for dessert.”

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