1 charcuterie board.
The cheese component of our cheese and wine party.
1 room service delivery charge.
See above.
1 Finlandia Vodka.
No idea, but I can guess.
1 Fever Tree tonic
The same again.
1 Couples Collection
Wait, what?
‘Excuse me. There seems to be one or two items on here that aren’t mine. Well, at least one.’ I swing the itemised bill around, pushing it across the desk as I point with my finger. ‘The vodka and tonic maybe, but the couple collection? I’m not sure what that is.’ But I can guess. ‘I didn’t even put the TV on the whole time I was here!’
‘Oh, that’s not a pay-of-view item. That’s from our minibar extras.’
‘I don’t know what it is but I can only tell you it’s not mine.’
‘It’s a, erm.’ The man’s gaze slides behind me to where Barney stands, but what is this? A blushing epidemic?
‘It’s a what?’
‘A couples intimate play kit,’ he says, leaning closer, though not really lowering his voice. ‘It’s available from the minibar. In a little silver box?’ he adds as though that’s supposed to help. ‘Labelledhubba-hubba.’
There really was no need for him to use that porn-y tone.
‘It still doesn’t ring a bell.’
The clerk cocks an eyebrow as though hearing something else in my words.
‘Condoms and lube, a vibrating ring, and a feather tickler. Perhaps the gentleman...’
I open my mouth and close it again, rolling my lips inward in a state of sudden mute shock. A couple behind me begin to snigger, and if they can hear, so can my childhood pal. I must look like I’ve been partying in my room alone. Or worse, maybe entertaining a passing rugby team.
‘No!’ I whisper-yell. ‘The gentleman didnot.’
‘Do you think you might’ve picked up the play kit by accident and put it down?’
‘I didn’t pick anything up.’ This time, there’s less whispering in my shouting. ‘I didn’t even realise there was a—’ I lower my voice, pushing up on my tiptoes to get closer to the man on the other side of the desk as I manage to whisper this time, ‘play kit.’
Of course, as though summoned by my embarrassment, Archer appears next to me. As he slides his arm around my shoulders, he brings with him the scent of rain and fresh cut grass.
‘Where’ve you been all this time?’
‘Sorry, babe. There was a truck blocking me in. I had to track down the driver before I could move the car.’
‘Never mind that. There are a million charges on the bill, which is fine. But this one—’ I hammer my index finger on the offending—offensive?—item ‘—this one isn’t something we’ve used at all.’ Surely, I’d know.
‘Ah.’ He raises his gaze from the itemised bill, exchanging a look with the clerk. ‘We sort of did.’
‘Archer, I would’ve remembered.’
