Harper’s already standing at one of those windows, staring out over the city.
Falcon disappears into the closest bedroom and closes the door.
I only remember I’m still carrying bags when a knock sounds out behind me.
Shayne sweeps them out of my hand in passing. “I’ll put these down. You can bring the food in.”
I turn and do as I’m told, taking a few steps back to the door Shayne just closed moments before.
The guy with the cart gives me a smile as I open the door for him.
“Room service as requested!” he says as he brings it into the room.
The cart is pretty big, and it’s filled with covered plates.
“Thanks,” I tell the guy, slipping him a twenty.
He nods before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.
“Thank God it came!” Harper exclaims.
“You didn’t think it would come?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Shayne lifts one of the lids, and the smell of barbequed chicken wings hits my nostrils.
I didn’t think I was hungry, but, clearly, I was wrong.
“Nice,” Shayne says as he puts the lid on the empty bottom shelf of the cart. “No drinks?”
“Uh, oops. Sorry, I didn’t think of that,” Harper murmurs, flashing Shayne a guilty look as he picks up a chicken wing.
Shayne looks around, stepping away from the cart when he locates the minibar.
“Okay, now I know we’re loaded,” I joke as I pick up my first wing.
Harper shoots me a questioning look.
“We’re raiding the minibar in a place this expensive? It’s probably two hundred bucks for a can of soda.”
Harper laughs. “I don’t care where we are, it’s not going to be that much.”
I eat the chicken wing, put the bone down and grab another. “There better be more of these.”
Shayne cracks a can of lemonade as he moves back to the cart.
“Don’t worry, I ordered plenty,” Harper says, taking the lid off another plate.
I can’t help but laugh at the delicately stacked triangles that look like sandwiches made for an old lady’s tea party. I finish my second chicken wing and put the bone down.
“See! This is why you guys should tell me when we’re going to a place this fancy!” Harper points at the disappointing plate.
I pick up a couple of the sandwich quarters and press them together.
“It’s fine,” I reassure him. “We’ll be out for dinner in a few hours anyway.”
Shayne puts his soda down on the lamp table next to one of the couches.
He doubles up a sandwich the same way I just did.
