Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
He blinked, and I tried not to notice that his towel was slipping again, that he was making no move to catch it.
“Please don’t make me call security on you.” I pulled out my cell phone. “I’ll do it right now if you don’t start putting on some clothes.”
He remained still, looking just as confused as me.
I glanced at my screen, noticing new text messages from Madison and Kristin.
Kristin: Is “Suite at the Four Seasons” a new drink on the Festival Suns menu?
Madison: Ohhhhh! Did they remodel/rename one of their sections?
Kristin: Glad you’re having the best birthday eve. Looking forward to capping it off with a special dinner in a couple of days. (We cash-apped you $400 to use for anything you want to eat tonight, btw.)
FESTIVAL SUNS?! What the…
Sexy Towel Guy was still staring at me, eyeing me intently as I called Kristin.
“Have you ventured to the left side of the roof yet?” she answered on the first ring. “The second bartender is supposed to have a special round of appetizers and a free sunrise tequila for you.”
“You said the third clue was on the top floor of a building that started with an ‘F’ and ended with an ‘S,” I barely managed.
“Yeah, the phrase ‘Festival Suns’ starts with an ‘F’ and ends with an ’S,’ right?”
“The Four Seasons does, too…”
“Ha! Like we could ever afford the top suite there. It costs like twenty grand on a cheap night.”
“Right, well…” I couldn’t help but notice that Sexy Towel Guy was now smirking at me. “I think there’s been a bit of a mixup.”
“Huh? What type of mixup, Chloe?”
“One I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.”
“Chloe? Why does it sound like you’re about to hyperventilate?”
“I’m not.” I lied. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”
I hung up.
“Well?” Sexy Towel Guy clasped a designer watch onto his wrist. “How long exactly do I have until you call security on me? Or, would you like to get the picture you really came for before I call them on you? Either way, I’m sure catching me like this has made your evening. I bet you’ll brag about it for years…”
“You know what? You’re right,” I said. “It’ll be a while before I see another cocky and arrogant bastard in this lifetime, so I might need a photo of you to be wary of what one looks like.”
“You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
“Clearly.” I rushed out of the bathroom before I could embarrass myself any further.
Nearly tripping on the marble floor, I picked up my shoes and balloons. Then I hightailed it out of his suite.
I heard something falling to the floor, but I didn’t have the nerve to look back.
Not wanting to arouse the sleeping guards below, I ran in the other direction, searching for an emergency stairwell.
When I found the door, my balloon strings caught on the handle.
“No, no, no.” I tugged at them. “Come on, come on…”
As I was freeing the last one, my phone sounded with a call.
Hazel.
For once, I felt elated to hear from her.
“Yes, Miss Swift?” I answered.
“I’ve decided to let you enjoy the night before your birthday.”
“Um…Thanks?”
“I think I deserve a little more appreciation than that,” she said. “After all, you haven’t answered my calls and texts for hours.”
I said nothing.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough of my nice and generous side.” She truly needed a lobotomy. “The guy I slept with last night is giving me a repeat, so you’ll need to be up around three in the morning just in case I need you to help me with, you know, again.”
I take back being ‘elated’ to hear from you.
“Anyway, enjoy your night!” She put me out of my misery by ending the call, and I pushed the stairwell door open.
“Wait, wait.” Sexy Towel Guy grabbed my wrist before I could run down the stairwell. He still hadn’t put on any clothes. “Allow me a few seconds, please.”
“I really have no interest in getting your picture, okay?” I snatched my hand back. “I’m sorry about the mixup—truly—but you need to get over yourself.”
“I’m the one who owes you an apology.” He smiled. “I shouldn’t have made assumptions about you wanting my picture.”
“Apology unaccepted.”
“I also want to apologize for coming off like an arse.”
“An arse?”
“I believe the American term for it is ‘asshole.’”
“Yes, well..” I noticed the dimples in his cheeks. “That apology is somewhat unaccepted.”
“One out of two is fair.” He eyed the slit of my dress. “I was actually hoping to find a local who could show me around the city tonight. Perhaps we can help each other.”
“Is this a joke?”
“I’m being quite serious.” He stepped closer, closing the gap between us. “I think you should at least consider my offer.”
“What exactly are you proposing?”
“I’ll go with you on your scavenger hunt.” He handed me the crumpled cheat sheet I’d dropped. “I’ll gladly pay for everything, but you have to let me drive my car and tell me where we’re going in advance.”