“Okay. Yeah, that makes sense.” I think for a few seconds, and before I come up with something, we pass a bellhop with a name tag that reads “Alan.” That might work.
“You can call me Al.”
She smirks and, without missing a beat, says, “You can call me Betty.” The sparkle in her eyes, the first I’ve seen, tells me the name isn’t random.
I smile at her, and it occurs to me I’ve probably smiled more in the short time I’ve known her than I usually do in a month. Normally, only my mom and my niece, Layla, can regularly get the corners of my mouth to turn up.
“Betty, did we just pick our aliases based on a Paul Simon song that’s probably older than us?” I grin at her.
Her ensuing giggle is adorable.
“Yep, sure did. My mom—” her excited expression disappears, and she blinks her eyes a few times “—My mom loves Paul Simon, so I’ve heard the song a million times.”
There’s no question that it makes her sad. Her body language, tone of voice, and frown give her away. I want her to be happy again. She’s beautiful no matter what expression she’s wearing, but she’s radiant when she smiles.
When we arrive at my suite, I slide the keycard halfway into the slot, then stop.
“This is it. Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I’m not expecting anything to happen, but I still want her to be comfortable as we hang out.
She looks at me with those huge green eyes, puts her hand on mine, and pushes the keycard the rest of the way in. She’s still looking at me when the door lock beeps and I turn the handle. It’s only after I open the door and gesture for her to walk in that she tears her gaze from mine.
Chapter Three
Delaney
My jaw drops when we enter Al’s suite. I expected a little sitting area and a bed. Instead, it’s like a mini apartment in here—one with all high-end furnishings. I close my mouth and brush it off. I assume his company paid for this. He must have a nice gig or be really high up the ranks.
“Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?”
I snort… or chuckle. Oh my God, what was that? A combination of the two—asnuckle? Is that even a word? It is now.
Al lifts an eyebrow and tilts his head while he stares at me.
“You okay over there?” His lips settle into an amused smirk.
I clear my throat and hope that my cheeks aren’t bright crimson with embarrassment.
“Yep. Sorry about that.”
“Wanna share with the class what’s so funny?”
I fight another snuckle as it tries to escape me.
“Well, isn’t that what the woman is supposed to say?” His forehead creases, and his eyebrows draw inward in confusion.
“You know, like the woman says: ‘Let me go slip into something more comfortable.’ Then she comes out in some slinky lingerie.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Slinky? Interesting.”
“What? Don’t you read?”
“I do. But I’m guessing maybe not the same thingsyou’rereading.” He grins. “I assure you, by ‘comfortable,’ I mean anything other than this suit. I promise there will be no lingerie or banana hammocks. I left those at home.”
He winks at me and disappears into what I assume is the bedroom. It’s a good thing because now I’m picturing him in his underwear, and my vivid imagination does a bang-up job of it.
“Calm down,” I mutter to myself.
I’m about to sit down when there’s a knock at the door. After looking through the peephole, I open it and let the room service attendant in.
