STEPHANIE PRYOR
&
LINDSAY SMITH
“I’m Stephanie Pryor,”said Steph, introducing herself to their driver.
“Good afternoon, Miss, I am Miguel. Mr Brooker sends his regards.” He grinned at her.
“I bet he does,” she said more to herself than anyone else before the driver took their trolley cases.
“This way ladies.” He was already beginning to lead them out.
They graciously followed the man of some fifty years, tall and broad with some signs of his age in his hairline and its colour that was a light brown with some peppering of grey. Holding the door of the limousine open for them to climb in, he smiled again making Steph smile in return at his twinkling blue eyes that looked mischievous and fun loving.
Lindsay shrieked and squealed when they reached the five star beach front hotel that they hadn’t booked.
“Mr Brooker strikes again,” Steph muttered to herself and considered telling the innocent driver that this was not their hotel, but she didn’t. Instead she just got out of the door that Miguel was holding open for her and stared up at the ostentatious hotel frontage and thought that Jon had obviously changed her hotel booking through love and generosity but was still slightly irked that he hadn’t even seen fit to tell her, if not ask her.
“This is unreal,” giggled Lindsay as an employee from the hotel clambered to meet them and take their bags to reception where a very well spoken English woman with long dark brown, almost black hair and piercing blue eyes stood waiting to greet them with a fixed smile and elevated position courtesy of her height that must have been teetering on six feet. “I told you Jon sorts holidays like nobody else, didn’t I?” Lindsay didn’t really require an answer as the woman before them spoke.
“Good evening, ladies.” She smiled warmly.
“Hello, I’m Stephanie Pryor and I am unsure if the reservation here is in my name or not,” said Steph without clarity she thought.
“Ah, Miss Pryor and Mrs Smith?” she enquired, her smile broadening.
“Yes,” Steph and Lindsay replied in stereo.
“Miss Pryor there is a letter for you, and here are your keys.” She handed over two key cards and a sealed envelope addressed to her in Jon’s handwriting.
Steph accepted the letter with a smile while Lindsay’s eyes flitted from one example of luxury to another surrounding them in the reception area.
The receptionist handed Steph a welcome pack and explained where everything was including the dining room, the pools, bar and the access route to the private beach whose mere existence shocked Steph having never stayed anywhere with a private beach.
“I will get someone to take your luggage up to your suite,” she said smiling again.
“Suite?” Steph was unable to conceal her working class and cheap package deal past to the receptionist.
“Yes, Miss Pryor, you are in The Presidential Suite, our premier accommodation.”
“I see, thank you,” Steph replied unsure what else to say so settled with heading up to the premier accommodation that was The Presidential Suite.
Lindsay shrilled and shrieked again,and Steph knew it wouldn’t be the last time as she took in the splendour of the suite that consisted of two bedrooms with en-suite facilities, a kitchenette, wet bar, dining area, huge lounge and private balcony and terrace. Steph was unsure how to feel as she drank in every feature of the accommodation that Jon had arranged for them and suddenly felt weary.
“Which room do you want Lindsay?”
“Your boyfriend gives us this and I get to choose?” she said considering the choices, the larger room with the huge bed and a window or the second room, slightly smaller with a largebalcony, but both with spa baths. “Would you mind if I have the one with the balcony?” asked Lindsay nervously.
“Course not, now if you don’t mind I might just have a little siesta,” said Steph dragging herself and her bag into her bedroom.
Lying down she opened the letter that the receptionist had given her and smiled at the familiar handwriting that was Jon’s.
Hi Darling,
Hope you had a good flight and that you and the lovely Lindsay approve of my choice in accommodation for you both. I am guessing you are slightly annoyed that I intervened in your hotel reservation, but you know that’s what I do and you deserve the best of everything. I should probably confess that your credit card has been refunded the cost of your original holiday and the hotel you’re in is one of mine.
This is going to be a hellish week Steph so I have taken the liberty of booking another holiday for the two of us in a month’s time. Call me later when you’ve settled in. Can’t believe how much I miss you already. Jon x
