The best part? We had the whole morning off to enjoy whichever amenities we saw fit.
Laila was dressed casually in dark jeans, short black boots, and a loose black sweater. A dark green scarf around her throat brought out the green in her hazel eyes, which looked everywhere but at me.
We hadn’t spoken since yesterday when I dropped her off. I knew I’d said the wrong thing in the car when we parked in the alley. Unfortunately, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what that thing had been. I’d spent a good hour or so of my night pondering it, trying to make sense of when the tone changed, and concluded that whatever it was had gone right over my head.
She still seemed irritated with me because she hardly paid me any attention as we strode to the elevator and got on. Lexi jabbed the button for the lobby and stepped back, standing with her muscled arms crossed over her chest and her dark gaze fixed on me.
I’d never been good at uncomfortable silences. “Tonight should be fun. Are you coming with us, Lexi?”
Lexi’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Nope, just escorting Laila until you two get in the limo. Safety first.”
“I could get you an invitation,” I offered.
“No thank you.”
None of us said anything. Eventually we reached the lobby of the office tower. We stepped out, made our way outside, and pushed through the crowd outside that desperately wanted a chance to touch Laila, get her autograph, or snap a picture of her. Lexi handled the assault of people like a pro, keeping one arm over Laila’s head as she steered her to the limo and guided her inside. I followed, and Lexi closed the door.
“She’s a true professional,” I said.
Laila smiled and watched through the tinted windows as Lexi stomped back through the crowd to her own Range Rover parked a couple of cars behind us. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
The drive to the hotel wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t totally relaxed, either. Laila spent most of the half hour on her phone either responding to texts or posting to her socials. I tried to mind my own business. The temptation to ask her if something was wrong—or more specifically, if I’d done something wrong—gnawed at me from the inside. However, I was certain that if I asked, she wouldn’t tell me the truth.
So I kept my mouth shut.
We arrived at the hotel at four o’clock. An attendant took our bags up to our room while we went to the front desk to check in. The woman working behind the counter wore a slick black outfit with gold buttons on the shoulders. Her nametag read “Anna.”
“We’re so glad that you’re staying with us tonight, Mr. Thornton and Miss Hunt. Here are your room keys.” Anna slid two plastic key cards across the counter to us. I pocketed mine and Laila held on to hers. “You have a pool and city view room with one king bed and a jacuzzi on the deck. Room service is open all night long and the menu will be in your room, along with a brochure of all the hotel amenities, which you can enjoy at your leisure.”
Laila cleared her throat and tapped her key card anxiously on the desk. “I’m sorry, did you say it’s a room with one king bed?”
Anna smiled pleasantly. “I did. Is that not suitable?”
Laila stopped tapping her card. “We’re not a couple. We’re colleagues. The room should have been a suite with two bedrooms.” She shot me a dark look. “Were you behind this, then?”
I held up both hands in innocence. “No, I didn’t handle the booking. Surely there’s something you can do to help us out, Anna? Is there a second room I could have? It doesn’t matter where it is in the hotel. It’s just to crash after the party.”
Anna winced. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thornton. The hotel is actually all booked for the night.”
Laila rolled her eyes. “Naturally.”
“I can let you know if there are any cancellations or no-shows,” Anna offered.
I shook my head. “It’s all right. Laila, we’ll just use the room to get ready. I’ll go back to my estate after the party and you can stay here. No crossover. Does that work?”
Laila rubbed her lips together. “Fine.”
Anna seemed delighted that we’d worked out our issue without her intervention. She finished up our booking with a cheerful smile and wished us a fun night at the party before inviting the next guests up to check in. Laila and I turned and climbed the stairs up to the main lobby area, which was a lavish corridor full of wood-burning fireplaces, European-inspired artwork in gold frames, and sprawling Turkish carpets over golden marble floors. Giant chandeliers overhead lit the way as we navigated the halls to the elevator, which took us to the top floor of the north tower.
Our suite felt much more modern than the rest of the hotel. Everything was in soothing shades of white or light gray, with accents of blues in the artwork and décor, like the pillows on the bed or the blanket thrown over the sofa in the sitting room.
Laila put her bags down on the sofa and strolled through the suite, pausing at the sliding doors to gaze out at the city down below. She brushed aside sheer white curtains, drew the door open, and stepped out into the cold. I watched her shoulders swell as she took a deep breath. Her exhale fogged in the cold air.
I hovered in the open door. “Not bad, huh?”
Steam wafted off a running jacuzzi off to the right, tucked against a privacy wall so no other guests at the hotel could see it.
Laila nodded toward the jacuzzi. “Not bad at all. I’m definitely getting in there at some point.”
Mmm. Nice. Laila in a bathing suit, or potentially nothing at all, soaking wet and all alone? And here I’d just gone and told her I wouldn’t stay the night here. Damn it.
“There are gifts on the bed,” I said.
Laila and I shuffled into the bedroom and picked through baskets and gift bags of goodies. There were plush robes for each of us, slippers, chocolate-dipped strawberries, a bottle of champagne, delicious-looking brownies in a powder-pink box tied off with a shimmering white ribbon, and other little treats from Cupid’s Arrows and other sponsors.
Laila went right for the brownies and popped the lid open. She closed her eyes and brought the box under her nose, taking a whiff. “Oh my God. These smell incredible. What is this bakery?” She peered at the sticker on the side of the box. “Getting Baked. Never heard of them, have you?” Laila lifted a small cardboard cover from inside the box with writing on it, revealing the dozen brownies inside, all of which were different flavors. She gasped. “Oh hell yeah.”
Laila helped herself to one before offering me the box with an expectant nod.
I picked one out and took a bite. At first, the chocolate melted on my tongue and obnoxiously tortured my tastebuds with how delicious it was. After swallowing however, I detected a strange taste on my tongue that I couldn’t place.
Laila didn’t say anything, so I assumed it was just my brownie.
Once we’d sifted through all the gifts and put on our fluffy robes, we popped the champagne. Laila didn’t seem too keen on having a drink before the party, but I told her I wanted something to take the edge off. I would be spending half my evening rubbing shoulders with investors and other reputable businessmen.
Men like my father.
A drink or two would help loosen me up.
The first glass went down way too easy. We poured another. While we drank, Laila took a seat at the makeup vanity in the bedroom and began applying her face. Meanwhile, I lounged on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.