“We’ll see. Thank you.” I hang up and turn to Rhys. “Well, this is it. The ‘king bed.’” I make air quotes.
He studies the mattress thoughtfully, then turns to me. “Fine. We’re professionals. We can share it.”
“No, no way. It’s too small.”
He narrows his eyes, looks me up and down. “If you thrash around—”
“I don’t!”
He doesn’t bother to acknowledge my protest. “You need to decide. I’m not sleeping on the floor. And if you snore, I’m kicking you out.” He grabs his personal toiletries and underwear from his carry-on and disappears into the bathroom.
“And ifyousnore, I’m kickingyouout,” I say,sotto voce, at the closed door.
“I heard that!” comes his gravelly voice from the other side.
“You heard the voicemail on my phone!” I lie, then quickly open my suitcase. I have to pick out the things I need before he comes out. There are certain items he doesn’t need to see. Like my underwear—
Shit. I pinch the bridge of my nose. I have no clean underwear left. I didn’t think about it, since we were supposed to be heading home.
If I had my own room, it wouldn’t be a big deal because I could just handwash a couple and hang them over a towel rack to dry. But I’m not leaving my undies in the bathroom for Rhys to see.
I snatch the hotel laundry bag from the closet drawer and check the order sheet.The garments must be dropped off by four to qualify for the expedited morning delivery at seven. Otherwise, I’m not getting them back until five the next afternoon.
Great. The clock next to the bed reads 8:54. I’m not going commando all day tomorrow. Not that I have anything against it—I did it on an anniversary with Jeffrey, but it’s justnot an optionaround Rhys. It’d be really weird. Going bare below leaves me feeling extra naked and vulnerable, which is what makes it illicit and thrilling. But I’m here to work. I need to be one hundred percent focused. In addition, I don’t doillicitandthrillingaround Rhys. He’s my boss, even if he did ask me to be his fake girlfriend earlier.
Don’t put too much stock in that. He probably wasn’t thinking straight after the scandal blew up. Some of the investors are uptight and react badly to negative publicity. Despite the gossip rags’ claims, I trust Rhys. He might be grumpy and difficult to please, even vicious at times, but there are lines I can’t imagine him crossing. And doing it with a high schooler? That would be one of those lines.
I call the front desk again. “Is there any way you can expedite laundry for me? I need it by tomorrow morning.”
“I’m very sorry, but it would be very difficult, Mrs. Kingswood,” comes a male voice.
Oh my God!“I’m not Mrs. Kingswood!”
“I apologize, Ms. Kingswood.”
I put my hand over the tip of my left eyebrow. The muscle there starts twitching under my fingers.
“Is there anything else I can assist you with?” the man continues pleasantly.
“So…it would bedifficultfor you to wash and dry my clothes before seven in the morning?”
“Yes. Very sorry.”
“Are you just saying it’s difficult because the answer is really justno?”
“No, no, no,” he says hurriedly. “I never said no. Justdifficult.”
I bang my head against the pillow—the edge of the nightstand looks really sharp. “Okay. Is there a laundromat nearby?”
“Nothing that’s open at this hour and close to the hotel. It may be better if you wait to receive your garments tomorrow. We cantryto bring them to you by noon.”
“I see.” I sigh. “It does indeed sound difficult,” I mutter.
“Ah, yes!” The clerk sounds pleased that I finally understand.
“Look, I have to work early in the morning. How about a store? Anything open?”
“The 7-Eleven around the corner is always open.”
