Indulge in unparalleled comfort at The Darlington, thanks to our exceptional room service. Every room is meticulously cleaned and maintained to the highest standard, ensuring a pristine and welcoming retreat. Our dedicated team is on hand to meet your every need.
Excerpt from The Darlington Hotel website
Kate
I’d underestimated my job at the hotel. I had figured tidying a couple of rooms couldn’t be too hard, but I’d been wrong. Every muscle in my body ached. I definitely wasn’t used to so much movement. I had walked around the city, of course, but most of my time had been spent sitting in St. James’s Park, watching over my belongings and waiting for an opportunity to steal from unsuspecting tourists. Today, however, I’d put in a hard day’s honest work. It felt extremely satisfying and was definitely worth the exhaustion, especially when the reward was this incredible room.
I peeled off the hotel uniform and was placing it neatly over a chair so it wouldn’t get creased when I spotted the black envelope I had left on the table.
On Saturday night, I had been lying unsuspectingly in bed when my doorbell rang. People didn’t knock at The Darlington; every room had its own bell. A hotel employee had been standing at the door and handed me an envelope with a golden wax seal embossed with The Darlington logo. I hadn’t had a clue what to expect as I opened it. The very last thing I was anticipating was a letter from Henry. I hadn’t seen him since he’d taken me to my room, and I assumed that, given his many responsibilities and duties, he’d long since forgotten me.
After opening his letter, I had read it at least half a dozen times with a racing heart and a broad grin. Even now, I smiled as I reached for the envelope again to pull out the letter.
Dear Kate,
I hope you’ve made yourself at home at The Darlington. I’m sorry I’ve not had time to check on you, but there’s an overwhelming amount to do at the moment. If you have questions or need help, though, you know where to find me.
—Henry
I would have liked to go and find Henry. I wanted to see him. A shocking realisation, given that I’d spent months working on not being dependent on anyone, financially or emotionally. Especiallynot emotionally. Which is why I forced myself to put the letter back in the envelope.
I ran a bath to distract myself, waiting until the tub was full before I slid into the water with a sigh of pleasure. I loved taking baths, but I never had that luxury because my mom and I never owned a bathtub. I meant to seize every opportunity while I still had the chance.
As I closed my eyes and leaned my head back to enjoy the blissful warmth, my thoughts turned again to Henry. I wondered how and what he was doing and if he knew that people were talking about us. Most were just curious, and others were sceptical, but a few seemed genuinely enraged over our alleged relationship. They shot me dirty looks and gossiped nastily behind my back, as if I couldn’t hear. But I didn’t care. Words couldn’t hurt me anymore, not after everything I’d experienced.
I stayed in the bathtub until the water turned cold and the bubbles disappeared, and then I wrapped myself in a towel and slipped into the fluffy pair of slippers I’d found in the wardrobe. The steam that had fogged up the mirror was gone, and I could see my reflection clearly—my cheeks were rosy red, and the damp ends of my hair curled into ringlets. In recent months, several days had sometimes gone by without me seeing my own reflection, and the sight now was strange. It was like looking at someone who resembled me, but had a terrible haircut. Perhaps there was a pair of scissors here somewhere so I could at least give my hair a trim.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I frowned, surprised. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Perhaps it was another letter from Henry. I went to the door, leaving a trail of bathwater in my wake. But itwasn’t another letter. It was Henry himself, standing in the corridor with his hand raised as if he had been about to ring the doorbell again.
“Hello, Sunshine.”
“Hi. And... no,” I replied, trying to hide how happy I was to see him. He was wearing jeans and a dark hoodie and was holding two pizza boxes.
“What’s your objection to Sunshine? Snowflake and Sunshine sound good together.”
“Sounds cheesy.”
“Fine. Can I come in, anyway?” he asked. At the same moment, he seemed to notice that I was only wrapped in a towel. I was partially concealed behind the door, but it must have been obvious. His gaze moved from the wet ends of my hair to my neck and then further down to my chest.
An electric tingle coursed through me, and I pressed my lips together hard. I couldn’t help but think about Ethan’s obscene words—Henry had finally found a woman he couldfuck. But that wouldn’t happen. We didn’t make sense together. The women Henry usually dated were probably as rich, smart, and elegant as he was. They had flawless CVs and even more flawless behaviour. I couldn’t compete. I knew it. And Henry knew it too.
He cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, not at all,” I answered, my throat dry, even though it wasn’t strictly true. I’d planned to put on my fluffy hotel bathrobe, get into bed, and watch the next episode of my favourite TV show. But that was before I’d known there was a chance I’d get to spend time with Henry.
“Shall I wait out here, or...?” He trailed off.
I pulled the door open with one hand and held on to my towel for dear life with the other. “No, come in. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed my clothes from the chair in the corner of the room and hurried into the bathroom. I swiftly dressed and attempted to tame my damp hair before returning to the bedroom.
Henry had settled on the floor beside my bed with the pizza boxes and two bottles of cola from the minibar. His feet bounced restlessly, as if he couldn’t sit still, and he had taken off his shoes. His left sock had a hole, which inexplicably made me smile. Sitting there in his jeans, hoodie and tattered sock, he looked almost normal, not like a filthy-rich person. Just some guy in his twenties trying to figure it out like everyone else. The only difference was the shadows under his eyes, which were so dark, they suggested he’d already lived a whole lifetime.
“Are you OK?” I heard myself ask.
Henry’s nervous foot-jiggling stopped, and he glanced at me, startled. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he simply stared at me, seemingly overwhelmed by my question. He hesitated for a long time before he answered. “Yes. Are you?”
“I am,” I said. And in my case, it was actually the truth. But I didn’t want to force him to talk about his problems. Perhaps he’d come to me to forget them, and I was happy to let him—he’d solved many of my own.
