“Can I help you?” asked the tall, pleasant man of about forty-five with a definite middle aged spread forcing against the pinstriped waistcoat he wore.
“We have a reservation for the weekend,” explained Jon.
“Certainly, sir, and the name?” asked the concierge that Steph now noticed was called Claude according to his name badge.
“Brooker,” replied Jon.
“Ah, yes, sir, here we are. I will get your key and then Rafe will show you up to your room,” smiled Claude as he handed over the keycard to Rafe who was still holding their bags.
Claude passed a tastefully decorated floral wallet over towards Steph.
“All of the information about the hotel, the spa and the surrounding area is in there. Once you have settled in I can arrange for someone to show you the hotel and facilities if you would like, or you may prefer to explore it for yourself, Mrs Brooker.” Claude obviously had no clue of the faux pas he’d made, but before Steph had the compulsion to correct him and embarrass everyone, Jon intervened.
“Thank you. Come on then Mrs Brooker. Rafe looks ready to collapse under the weight of your weekend bag.” With a grin and a wink, he squeezed her hand and led her towards the lift that was discreetly hidden behind wooden panelled doors.
The short journey to the second floor, the top floor in the lift was virtually silent as Steph kept going over the Mrs Brooker comment from Claude; she didn’t doubt that it was totally innocent, and if she had been Jon’s proper girlfriend then she would probably have been as amused by it as he was, but she wasn’t and there was a Mrs Brooker, and it wasn’t her.
Jon looked across at Steph knowing that the mood had changed between them. He had been amused, mainly by the expression on Steph’s face when Claude had called her Mrs Brooker, but now he knew that she was uncomfortable and obviously upset by it. He also knew that she was aware that he was looking at her still, but she was avoiding returning his gaze as she thought about the fact that she was not Mrs Brooker and never would be while someone else held that title; he considered that this relationship was new, but it didn’t feel it. It felt serious and whilst he wouldn’t be planning on getting down on one knee, even without a wife, he couldn’t actually imagine his life without Steph right now. He made a loose decision in his head to discuss his situation with Steph, but maybe not immediately, or this weekend, but soon.
The lift stopped and as Rafe led them out and down the corridor towards their room, Jon reached across and took Steph’s hand again making her glance up at him as he raised her hand to his lips where he kissed her fingers gently making her smile before returning her gaze to the door that Rafe was opening now.
Rafe held open the door for Jon and Steph to walk through and immediately followed them into what he had referred to as ‘the best in the house’ on their way up in the lift. He placed their bags down on the floor at the side of a four-poster bed, but a modern one, huge with white drapes tied back against the white ash posts at each corner and a white canopy draped over the top of the bed frame. Steph noticed that the room was decorated tastefully in mainly whites and splashes of colour, green in this room, provided by framed prints on the walls and a rug across the neutral coloured carpet, towels and finally a runner across the bottom of the bed in the same shade of green as the prints and rug over a very comfortable looking white duvet and plumped pillows.
“The bathroom is through there,” Rafe told them as he pointed towards a door to the far side of the bed and appeared to be heading towards it to show them that too.
“I am sure we will find our way around,” said Jon as he put an arm across Rafe’s shoulders and led him towards the door.
Steph watched the young man’s face as he realised that he was essentially being asked to leave and he looked most uncomfortable as he hadn’t talked them through where the phone and complimentary bar was or explained that the champagne in the bucket was on ice, next to another arrangement of red roses. Steph smiled as she noticed Jon handing over a rather large denomination of money as a tip.
Jon closed the door behind Rafe and breathed loudly. “I thought he was included with the room when he seemed so reluctant to leave.”
Steph smiled. “That’s a bit kinky, even for you and he really wasn’t my type.”
“I am very pleased to hear that ,Miss Pryor.” Standing in front of her he snaked an arm around her waist to pull her close enough that she could feel his breath on her face as he looked down at her.
“Miss Pryor, not Mrs Brooker?” she asked unsure how she felt or what emotion she should try to convey as she said it.
“I didn’t book us in as Mr and Mrs . . .” he started nervously. “We need to talk about Mrs Brooker at some point, darling, it really isn’t as it seems.”
“I know, not now, please, but soon,” she said almost begging him not to continue. “This is a very beautiful room and I don’t want anything to spoil it, so please say that talking can wait.”
“Okay, let’s check out the bathroom,” he agreed taking her hand as he walked across the room before pausing at the door and appeared to be about to speak as he looked down at her, but stopped and opened the door instead.
“Wow!” she exclaimed loudly as she stepped into a vast bathroom with a bathtub for two and twin basins, his and hers she thought smiling.
She noticed that the window was unusually clear glass for a bathroom, but as she looked out she could see why. The window revealed a view over the lakes, gardens and the countryside beyond.
“This is very luxurious,” she stated unnecessarily.
“You like?”
“Yes, very much so.” What wasn’t to like?
“You get the plug end of the bath.” He grinned.
“That would be rather difficult as it’s in the middle of the tub.” She pointed at the central location.
“Good point, darling. Shall we investigate the private terrace and the bar?”
