“Stop.” Dr. Jones grabbed my arm. “You could damage it.”
“Maybe if we put some lube on it, it will slip off?” William chipped in.
“I didn’t bring any,” I hissed through my teeth.
“I did,” William said.Of course, he did. “Lube will work. Let’s go to our room and try it.”
“It’s worth an attempt,” Dr. Jones agreed.
In awkward silence, we rode to the third floor and walked to the end of the hall. When we entered our suite, William disappeared into the bedroom, and I made my way to the bar, selected a mini tequila bottle out of the refrigerator, and found a glass.
“Do you want a drink, Andrew? Or do you prefer Dr. Jones?” I asked the handsome stranger who stood in the middle of my suite, typing on his cellphone, the right side of his mouth quirked in concentration.
“No, thank you.” He glanced at me and gave a tight-lipped smile. “And Andrew is fine.”
I studied the liquor bottle in my hand, thought better of it, placed it back, and grabbed a club soda. Years ago, a man like him—highly educated and striking—was my heart’s Achille’s heel. But, once bitten, twice shy, and now I was immune to his type.
“How did you know where to find me?” I asked.
“When the bracelet didn’t arrive, I checked with the receptionist, and we quickly figured out the issue.” He regarded me for a moment. “You are a very memorable woman. After a brief investigation, I was directed to the Triton bar.”
William returned, holding a box of Kleenex and a large bottle of lubricant.
“Let’s do it.” He poured a generous amount of liquid onto his palm and massaged it over my wrist. “Okay. Try now.”
I gripped the bracelet and tugged it as hard as I could. My skin wrinkled, turning red. “It doesn’t want to come off. We need to cut it.”
“No!” Andrew barked so urgently that my insides performed a backflip.
“Jesus, don’t give me a heart attack. You can pay me half of the money and take it to a jeweler to fix it.”
“It’s worthless if it’s damaged.” He glared at me as if somehow this was all my fault.
I yanked a couple of tissues out of the box and vigorously wiped my wrist and hand. “Why don’t we find a jeweler who can help us open it?”
Andrew walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass door that opened on to a terrace with a view of white sand and turquoise water. He linked his fingers together behind his neck and groaned.
“It’s not so simple,” Andrew muttered. “Christ, why would you put it on?”
“Um, because it was a gift for me?”
Andrew stared at the vast view. “No, it wasn’t.”
“It was delivered tomyroom withmyname on it,” I said, incredulous.
“It hadmyname on it.” He turned. “Someone delivered it by mistake toyourroom.”
“You’re wrong, and I can prove it.” I strode to the powder room and fished the package out of the garbage bin. “See, right here.” I pushed it into Andrew’s hands. “It says Ms. Adriana Jones. That’s my name.” I pointed at the smeared writing with the first part of the name mostly gone, leaving only an “A” somewhat visible and only the last part with the surname Jones recognizable.
Andrew’s eyes flicked to me, then again at the writing on the paper. His smirk spread into a shit-eating grin. “Look closer, and you’ll see my name,” he said. “Dr. Andrew Jones.”
“No, I won’t.”
With confidence, I turned the package around and concentrated on the name. Andrew pushed the torn paper edges together. My stomach sank low, realizing that I was a total dipstick. It was Andrew and not Adriana. And what I thought was Ms. now looked more like Dr. I let go of the box, lowered myself onto the couch, and leaned my head back, closing my eyes.
“Okay, maybe itdoessay Dr. Andrew Jones. I really thought it was for me. There was no note.” The sting of embarrassment burned my nose, and I scrunched up my face, not wanting to cry. “I tried it on, and then William texted me…” The tears streamed down my face. “I’m such an idiot.”
My pity party must’ve been too much for Dr. Jones. One moment he was by my side, the next he was headed for the door.
