She's Got Dibs Read Free Page A

as he placed his hand on her back. “Let’s share a cab.”

Chapter Two
    As the taxi eased to a stop in front of the hotel, Tessa cringed. A mob choked the sidewalk—guests waiting for a cab or searching for a bellman to assist them with their luggage.
    Dibs offered her a hand out of the backseat. His palm warmed her back as he escorted her to the revolving doors of the hotel. As many people stood inside the large, marble-floored lobby as were outside. Most waited in line at the front desk, but some were enjoying a drink, reclined on the gold tapestry couches set before the fireplace or standing near the gold embossed elevator bank.
    Dibs trailed her through the crowd and they joined the queue to check in.
    “So, Tessa from Chicago, what is it that you do?”
    There was probably no harm. Not like they ran in the same circles or anything. “Event planner.”
    “Really? That sounds like a fun job.”
    “It has its moments.” She glanced at him. “And what is it that you do, Dibs with the nickname?”
    “Philanthropist.” They shuffled forward together.
    “Billionaire tycoon, huh?”
    “Something like that.”
    Yep, she’d nailed it. The man was like a walking, talking billboard from Times Square, advertising a fantastical combination of wealth and masculinity. But billions? “You’re not serious.”
    “I think we should make an agreement right now to always tell each other the truth.” He slid a hand into his pants pocket.
    “Really? I was sorta hoping we would tell each other nothing but lies.”
    He smirked, keeping pace at her side. “Honestly, I don’t think people tell enough of the truth.”
    She tipped her head. “I don’t think we can help it, actually. It’s in our very nature to lie.”
    “The question is why. What’s that saying…if you always tell the truth…”
    “You don’t need a good memory.”
    “See?” Satisfaction softened the crease between his brows. “I knew I liked you.”
    She huffed and approached the check-in desk. The young blonde woman behind the computer appeared harried and worn, her maroon ascot sitting slightly off-center around her neck.
    “Hi.” Tessa dropped her bags near her feet. “I have a reservation.”
    “The confirmation number, please?”
    She tugged the notepad from her briefcase and the woman clicked some numbers on her keyboard. Tessa worked her credit card from her wallet, lightly tapped the edge against the high marble countertop.
    “I’m sorry.” The desk clerk pointed to the pad. “What’s this number?”
    “I think that’s a three, or maybe it’s a five.” Keeping her finger on the number, Tessa waved Dibs forward. “What is this?”
    When he stepped to the counter, the woman gasped and tossed her shoulders back. “Mr. Brenner! I didn’t know you were staying with us today.” She spun to her computer, fingers flying over the keys. She paled. “I’m sorry, sir, but the Presidential Suite has already been booked.”
    “That’s all right,” he spoke quietly. “I have another reservation.”
    The woman pecked the keyboard and her eyes grew to the size of headlights. “We only have you in a one-bedroom suite, Mr. Brenner.”
    “It’s all right.” He placed his hand on the counter. “I called last minute. My flight was cancelled.”
    Expelling a tight breath, she quickly ran two keycards through the machine next to her keyboard and hid them inside a small envelope. “Here you are, Mr. Brenner. Sorry about the mix-up. Please let us know if there is anything we can get you.”
    “Not a problem.” He cleared his throat, nodding toward Tessa.
    “Oh!” The young woman jumped back onto her computer. “Here you go, miss.” She passed over a set of keycards and Tessa gathered her bags.
    Standing before the elevator bank, she tapped the small envelope against her chin while they waited. Something wasn’t adding up. That whole kerfuffle at the check-in desk smelled fishy. She finally narrowed her eyes at Dibs. “Okay, who