Room service?
I glanced at Charlie, who was still fast asleep, mouth half open and snoring. I hadn’t ordered anything, and from what I could tell, Charlie hadn’t either. Unless he had forgotten about it and gone back to sleep.
“Mr. and Mrs. Easton?” a female voice said from outside, giving another knock.
Mrs. Easton?
Warm, fuzzy feelings exploded through me, and I slipped out of the bed and grabbed my robe that I had thrown across my suitcase yesterday morning. After tying it around my waist, I padded to the door and looked through the peephole.
A maid stood outside with a cart of trays and coffee.
I unlocked the door and peeked my head out. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Easton, we have the room service that you ordered.”
“Oh, um …” I glanced over my shoulder at Charlie, who stirred on the bed, his body shifting underneath the blankets. “We didn’t order anything.”
“You and your husband ordered late last night at the front desk,” she said. “I was told that you wanted it delivered at nine a.m.” She opened a notebook and flipped to a page. “Chocolate milk, coffee, a platter of fruit, blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes, and eggs.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “We must’ve been hungry.”
Or really, really, really drunk.
“Will it be charged to the room?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I guess we’ll take it then.”
She moved the cart toward the door, and I took the hint to open it wider. I really didn’t want anyone in the room with us, especially with Charlie half naked on the bed. But this should be quick, right?
After placing all the trays and containers onto the dresser, she pushed the cart back toward the door. “The hotel would like to provide you with a complimentary bottle of champagne as well,” she said, reaching to the bottom of the cart and pulling out champagne at nine o’clock in the morning. “Congratulations.”
“Huh?” I asked, brows furrowed.
Instead of answering, she wheeled out the cart and started down the hallway. I peered out of the room and stared at her in complete confusion while clutching the bottle.
What the heck is this for?
“Athie?” Charlie mumbled from the bed. “Who was that?”
I twirled around and shut the door behind me, placing the champagne on the dresser. “One of the maids delivering room service that we apparently ordered last night. She also gave us a bottle of champagne. Do you remember ordering anything?”
“I don’t remember anything from last night,” he murmured against the pillow.
My phone buzzed.
Heather: WHY ARENF’T YOU ANSWERRING!!!!!
Heather: WE NEEF TO KNOW THE DEETS ASAP!!!
My eyes widened at the many, many, many messages that I had received from the group chat. There were at least a hundred of them—half from Heather, misspelling words, and none of them clear about what was going on.
Another message from Sierra.
Sierra: AND THE VIDEO?!
Evelyn: Not sure if you meant to upload it, but it was hooooot.
