I can’t imagine what a suite looks like. I mean, I can, but this seems like more than enough luxury to me. Anything more would just be egregious. But, then again, for people like my grandparents, I suppose that’s exactly what they want.
I go back into the bedroom, crossing through it to look out the window. I open it, just to listen to the sounds of the city. As soon as I do, the sounds of honking horns fill the room. It’s amazing how soundproof the space is, because I couldn’t hear any of that when the window was closed. It only takes about thirty seconds before I get tired of that racket and close the window. No use in overstimulating myself as soon as I get here, especially if we’re going out for dinner tonight. I need to recharge before then.
I plop down on the bed and stare up at the chandelier. And to think, about twenty-four hours ago, I was watching a k-drama, clueless about the things being discussed about me. I was single and free and enjoying a luxurious visit to my grandparents without a care in the world.
Okay, maybe some cares. I always have worries. But nothing like what’s going through my brain now.
Am I technically still single? Or am I in a relationship with a man I’ve never met? I mean…it isn’t like we’re dating. I mean, we’re sort of engaged? But only formally. It’s weird.
I start to doze off, enjoying the quiet of the room. I’m startled awake a few minutes later by a knock on the door. I rub my eyes, mind buzzing with possibilities. It’s probably just my grandparents, but I should be careful, right? But how, besides just looking through the peephole? I don’t know the first thing about self-defense against trained mafia…people.I don’t know what else to call them. Soldiers? Footmen? Meat suits?Dumbasses?
Probably not a good thing to say to their faces.
I get up and look out the peephole to see a man holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I blink in surprise. This smells fishy, right? Who in the world would be delivering flowers tome? Maybe he just has the wrong room number. Or maybe it’s something more nefarious. But what do I do if it is?
See, this is why I don’t belong in this dark world, filled with suspicion and criminal dealings. I’m smart, but not street smart. I know that. I’m aware that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and it’s not like I’ve taken a class on these things. Sign me up forBecoming a Mafia Princess 101, please!
I run back to the desk and grab my purse, rummaging through it to find my phone. I text my grandmother, telling her someone is at my door and asking what to do.
Ten seconds go by. The man knocks again. He waits another fifteen seconds before knocking again. I bite my lip. Still no answer from my grandmother. I consider calling her, but then the phone on the nightstand rings. It makes me jump. I didn’t even know those like…actually ring. Who the hell would be calling my room?
My heart races as I pick it up. “Hello?”
For some reason, I expect some creepy male voice to whisper back, to tell me he’s watching me, alaGhostface. But it’s a female voice, chirpy. I recognize it as the voice belonging to the girl at the front desk that checked us in. “Hi! This is the front desk. We’ve been told that there’s a delivery for you, but there’s no response at the door. I just wanted to check and make sure you can answer it. The delivery needs to be handed to the room’s occupant and not left behind.”
I relax a bit. Well, it can’t be a guy sneaking up to attack me posing as a delivery worker if the front desk is aware of it, right?
“Oh, uh…sorry, I was napping.” It’s not a complete lie, right? I was, but that’s not the reason why I didn’t open the door.
“Ah, sorry for waking you, then, miss. But Mr. Alasdair was clear that he wanted it handed to you directly and no one else, and that we were to reach out if there was no answer. He seemed to expect this.”
Alasdair.Ah, fuck.That’s what my grandmother saidhisreal name was, wasn’t it? The name I may be taking on as my own? If he wanted, I guess. Maybe he didn’t want me taking his last name.
“Ah, right. Sorry about that. I’ll answer the door now.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Why was he sending me flowers…? Was this some kind of threat or something?
“Great! Have a lovely day.” The girl chirps back.
My response is far more subdued. “Thanks. You too.”
I hang up the phone, almost on autopilot. I realize my hands are trembling as I go to the door and unlock it, opening it. The delivery man looks bored waiting for me. “Ah. Ms. Astero?”
I feel my throat tighten as I nod. “Yeah. Sorry about the wait.”
He flashes me a smile. “Not a problem. Here you go.” He hands me the beautiful vase of white roses, some sort of blueflower, and white lilies, with a dark greenery. The vase is dark blue, too. It’s like he knew that it’d match my room.
I shiver. It’screepy.
“Thank you. Uh, I don’t have any cash for a tip…”
The man laughs.Why would a tip be laughable?“No worries. Whoever sent you those flowers already tipped. Enjoy.” He doesn’t wait for a response before turning and heading towards the elevators, whistling as he goes.
I turn and head back into the room, setting the flowers on the desk before hurrying back to lock the door again. I slowly cross the room to look at the flowers. They look like they must’ve cost a pretty penny. There’s a note attached. I grab it with trembling hands, flipping it open.
Dear Amy,
Here’s to our future.
Kerry
