I rid myself of my panties and toss them in the laundry basket. I step into the hot shower and allow the water to massage my aching body. I ache in places I didn’t know I could ache. Then, everything from last night comes flooding back to me likea tsunami. Max. The orgasms. The way he played my body like a fiddle. Oh my fucking God. I have turned into a brazen hussy. I’ll never be stepping back inside that club again. In fact, I will not be venturing near any establishment that serves alcohol for the foreseeable. Mhairi can find someone else to be reckless with. I am now officially teetotal.
I turn off the water, grab a towel from the rail, and wrap it around my body. I walk back into my room at a snail’s pace. My bed is calling me, but I can’t sit or lie on it because I will cave in. I must make this meeting at nine-thirty. It isn’t just me who needs this contract, it’s my whole team of staff that will welcome the workload.
I walk through my apartment and look for my bag. It could be anywhere. I step into my living room and Mhairi is hanging off my couch upside down, one leg hanging over the back of the couch, knickers on display. Thank God she has knickers on. That would have been a sight I couldn’t rub out of my mind.
My handbag is on the arm of the couch at Mhairi’s head. I reach over and grab it, trying not to disturb my friend. I love her, but I can’t deal with her this morning. Hopefully, by the time I get home from work, she will have gone home and I can recover from this hangover from hell.
I walk into the kitchen and brew the coffee, I’m going to needallthe caffeine I can get today, and I pop some bread in the toaster. I don’t feel like eating, my stomach is churning like a washing machine, but I need something to settle my tummy. I lean across the breakfast bar, place my head down on the cold marble worktop, and sigh with relief. That feels amazing. It’s euphoric. Up until last night, I would have said it was better than sex, but Max has managed to show me that nothing is better than sex.
The coffee machine pings, and my toast pops up. I groan at the disturbance, but it reminds me that I need to make myself look somewhat presentable and that could take a lot of effort today.
I take my coffee to my room with me and leave the toast for when I’m running out the door. Hopefully eating on the move might be a little easier since I’ll be out in the fresh air. The air coming through the car window…Fuck!I can’t drive. I’m probably still majorly under the influence of alcohol. I can’t afford to lose my licence. I’ll need to call a taxi. I run back through to my kitchen and grab my phone to make sure I can get an Uber. Today is going to be one of those days.
***
My Uber pulls up outside a grand building in Glasgow City Centre. It’s a new chain of hotels, newly refurbished, and ready to open its doors in two weeks’ time. The old owners went bust, or so I’ve heard through the grapevine. Mr Loudon stepped in and did what he does best. Again, I’m only going with what I’ve heard, but all the recent news articles have said nothing has been spared where this hotel is concerned.
I step out of the Uber, straighten my black knee-length dress, put on my sunglasses because the sun is glaring from all directions and making my hangover ten times worse, and clip clop into the hotel on the smallest heel I own, because I don’t trust myself on stilettos today.
Work is still ongoing at different parts of the hotel, but I make my way over to the reception desk. I don’t see any middle-aged men in the vicinity, which is what I’ve pictured Mr Loudon to look like. I should have Googled him, but I’ve been so busy with work.
I ding the bell on the reception desk and put my glasses on top of my head. It’s nice and cool in this hotel, thankfully.
“Bro, why are you going to do a maid’s job?” a loud voice bellows down the stairs as one man follows another. I don’t get a good look at them. In fact, I don’t pay them any attention. I’m not really a people person. I like to remain in the shadows, but today, I certainly can’t be bothered with small talk and pleasantries.
“Because it isn’t the fucking maid’s job to clean up after us. I burst the pipe, I’ll clean it,” booms another voice.
It’s not often that people have that attitude where cleaners are concerned. The mentality of a lot of people is that’s what a cleaner gets paid to do, and it boils my blood. Yes, we’re paid to do a job, but we’re not paid to be a skivvy.
“Can I help you?” A woman’s voice sounds from behind me, and I jump out of my skin. I was too busy eavesdropping on the two men bickering and letting my mind roam elsewhere.
“Sorry, I was miles away. I’m here to see Mr Loudon. My name is Alexa. Alexa Barlow from Sparkle and Shine.”
The woman walks away towards the two bickering men. I follow her until she says, “Mr Loudon, your first meeting is here.”
“Fuck!” he groans.
I turn away and look up at the beautiful glass chandelier hanging from the glass-domed ceiling. It’s stunning.
“Sorry, I…Alexa, isn’t it?”
I turn around quickly at the sound of the dark, brooding voice, thanking the gods above that I didn’t put high heels onbecause that would have been a catastrophic move in my state today.
The moment my eyes meet the man standing in front of me, I want to be anywhere other than here. Someone up above is having a right fucking laugh at my expense. I can tell by the cheeky glint in his eye that he knows who I am. That he remembers everything about last night. Of course he does.
I straighten, hold out my hand to him, and say, “Alexa Barlow. Sparkle and Shine.”
He shakes my hand, cocooning my small digits in his. “Maxwell Loudon.”
“Bro, what the fuck do you want me to do with this bucket?” the other man moans.
I look around Maxwell towards the much younger guy. He looks like a right pain in the arse, and the sigh that just left Maxwell’s mouth tells me I’m right.
“Lex…” He shakes his head. “Alexa, meet my younger brother, Brendan.”
“It looks like Brendan doesn’t know how to use a mop and a bucket.” I smile.
“I told him to get the maid to do it,” Brendan says proudly.
