Page 12
He blinks, like this is unexpected. “Are you heading back home already? It’s a long flight to come for one day. Especially if you spent it asleep.”
I laugh softly. “No, I’m here for two weeks. I’m just moving to a different hotel. Tonight was a gift from my friends. The rest of my stay will be… less luxurious.”
“That’s a shame,” he says softly. “You look like a woman who deserves some luxury.”
Oh. That sounded suspiciously like a compliment. And I have no idea how to respond to it. Instead, I give him a smile. “Well, have a nice life. And keep up the piano practice. You have real potential.”
He laughs again. But this time it’s loud and full. It makes his eyes crinkly and his sharp cheeks plump. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” I turn on my heel, telling myself not to look back. I’m not here to form some weird attraction to a handsome piano player who makes my heart race in a way it hasn’t in years.
And yet when I make it to the bar and push the door open, I can’t help myself. I turn around to find him still looking at me as he plays, an unreadable expression on his face.
Stupid jet-lag related hormones. That’s what this is. I don’t believe in lust at first sight, let alone love. I need to know somebody before I fall for them. And I don’t know this man at all.
So why is it that I feel disappointed when he looks away and doesn’t ask which hotel I’ll be moving to?
At two minutes after eleven the next morning, I step out of the elevator onto the shiny tiled floor, pulling my cases behind me. Immediately a liveried member of staff rushes to take them from me.
“It’s fine, I can wheel them,” I say. Mostly because I have no idea what the tipping situation is here, and I have no small bills.
“Not at all, madam. Let me take your cases while you’re checking out. Next time call when you’re leaving your room and we can collect your luggage for you.”
My mouth twitches at the idea of there being a next time. Because, let’s face it, I’m never going to stay anywhere this sumptuous again.
And you slept through most of your stay. Argh. When I called Jennifer last night, she thought it was hilarious.
Then I told her about the pianist, and she squealed like she’d broken her ankle all over again.
“I need all the details. All. Of. Them,” she’d insisted. And then when I’d told her the paltry two times we’d encountered each other, she sounded disappointed. Even more so when I told her he hadn’t asked me where I’d be staying for the remainder of my trip.
The pretty woman behind the desk beckons me forward.
“I’d like to check out, please,” I tell her.
“Of course, madam. What room?”
I tell her, and then I remember last night. “Can I add a tip to my bill?” I ask. “For the pianist last night. The one that plays after midnight?”
Her smile doesn’t flicker. “Our pianist finishes at ten, but of course I can arrange that for you.”
“Well, he was working overtime last night.” I smile. “Because it was definitely after twelve when I saw him.”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she leans forward and looks at the screen. “Oh,” she whispers. “There’s a slight problem.”
My stomach drops. “What is it?” I ask. Oh god, please don’t tell me Jennifer and Derrick’s payment didn’t go through. Yes, I have an available balance on my card, but a thousand pounds is going to eat into it significantly
She looks up, the smile finally sliding from her lips. “It says here you’re not due to check out for two weeks.”
“What?” I shake my head. “That’s not right. The booking was for one night only.” Because one thousand pounds I can stomach my friends spending. But twelve thousand?
The thought of it sends a shiver down my spine.
“We definitely have you staying until the twenty-seventh. Are you sure you didn’t book it?”
Shit, shit, shit. I’m going to be eating from dumpsters for the foreseeable future. “Is there any way of canceling?” I ask, my voice thin.
She clicks on the screen, then scrolls down, her lips moving like she’s reading something. I hold my breath, waiting for her to reply. And then…
