“I’m good, thank you.” I slide the key into the pocket of my brown sweatpants, return my backpack to my shoulders, and muster up the last of the energy I have to make my way across the foyer.
As I press the button for the elevator, I hear a flurry of activity nearby. Muffled screams, coming from outside the hotel, get louder and then quieter again, probably from the doors opening and closing at the entrance.
The lift doors open, and as I make my way in, I feel a looming presence behind me.
“I’m going to need you to step aside, sir, and wait for the next elevator.”
As I turn, I’m confronted by a towering, bald-headed Black man with a goatee beard, who is staring down at my not-so-short five-eleven, one-hundred-fifty-five-pound self.
There’s a steely determination in his eyes, but this American douchebag picked the wrong person to mess with tonight.
“Excuse you?! I think you’ll find in this country that we wait our turn. You can help yourself to the next lift, thank you very much.”
The shock on his face tells me he’s not used to having people fire back at him, and it’s confirmed when I hear a slight chuckle from behind him.
“It’s fine, let’s just get to the room,” I hear another American voice say.
I can’t quite make out who it’s coming from. The mountain in black takes up my entire field of vision. But I’m guessing it’s someone important, given that this guy, who must be security personnel, refuses to take his glare away from me. As four more people make their way in, I’m forced into the right corner of the wooden elevator, right by the golden panel with the lift buttons.
I take note as they squeeze themselves into the space: Another security person with an earpiece in. A petite red-haired woman, struggling under the weight of a dozen items. Yet another bald-headed guy wearing oval-shaped glasses and with a poker face, who looks like he’d be a dab hand at cards. And finally, a blond woman with a bob whose physique is so slim as to be bordering on anorexic. And someone else, the owner of the mysterious voice, in the middle of all of them.
“Which floor?” I ask no one in particular.
“Three.” The blond-haired woman, lost in her phone, barely acknowledges me.
“Six,” the bald-headed guy with glasses says, in a monotone voice.
The two security guards share what seems to be a coded look as they take in the control board and then me.
“Which room are you staying in?” the big guy asks, deadpan.
“What’s it to you?” I retort.
God, these fucking Americans.
My difficult people quota for the day has not only already been met, but exceeded.
“Which room?!”
I tense at his domineering tone.
After a couple of awkward seconds, I reach for the room key in my pocket. The bigger security guard lurches forward, reaching for my arm, stopping just as I pull out the card holder. I open the flap to reveal the number and wave it in his face.
“Room 506. Now, which room are you in?” I puff my chest outward.
I’m not going to cower like I used to when confronted by an intimidating man.
Another chuckle comes from the only person in the lift I still can’t make out.
“Not everyone is a threat, Rob. Leave the man be,” says the American voice again.
When the lift doors eventually close and the security guard steps aside, I finally see the reason for all the commotion. A strikingly handsome guy, a couple inches shorter than me, stands diagonally opposite in the lift, with eyes so ocean blue they could wash me away.
A handful of sun-kissed golden locks are interwoven through his light-brown hair, which is styled perfectly, sliding backward. A few stray hairs linger just by his left eye. For a shorter guy,he’s built like a Greek Adonis. A tight-fitted white T-shirt accentuates his tan and showcases a rippling six—or is that an eight?—pack.
I inhale deeply, realizing that the sight of him momentarily took my breath away, and move my gaze to the framed picture next to him when I catch myself staring a split second too long and his eyes meet mine. I’m relieved when the blond-haired woman cuts through the silence.
“It looks like the outfit malfunction has gone down rather well online. Alexander’s big reveal seems to be trending across all the social platforms.” She raises one hand to air quote “big reveal,” and then continues to scroll through the phone without looking up.
