Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“After the company bought the building, I helped with the redesign. The top ten floors are all residential.”
“Let me guess. You’re on the top.”
“I prefer the top, sweetheart. The views are great.” He gives me that damn crooked smile, and I melt. “Let me show you.”
We walk into the hotel lobby, and a doorman comes running to Barclay’s side. His eyes are wide, darting between Barclay and me.
“Excuse me, sir,” the bellman says.
“What’s the problem, Peters?” I notice the golden nametag on the bellman’s chest.
“It’s her, sir,” he rushes, pointing his eyes at me. I look up at Barclay, confused, then back to Peters. “Are you Contessa Holly, miss?”
“I am.” I tighten my fingers around Barclay’s hand. “Did something happen?”
“Well, miss. The hotel manager’s upstairs in your room with a couple NYPD.”
26
Barclay
“Did someone break into her room?” I ask Peters. He’s usually the measured, never-cracks-a-smile bellman, but a pair of police officers showing up at the hotel has him rattled. I’ve never seen him this jumpy.
“Nothing like that, Mr. Hammond. Apparently Miss Holly’s brother has been trying to get a hold of her all night and decided to have the police investigate. The NYPD is doing this as a courtesy for her brother since it hasn’t been long enough to report a missing person,” he rushed out.
“Oh my God,” Tessa exclaims in utter shock. “I’m so sorry, Barclay.” She releases her hand from mine and cups her face in embarrassment.
“Contessa.” I say her full name for the first time. It sounds like royalty and fits her perfectly. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t worry. And thank you, Peters. I’ll escort Miss Holly up to her room.”
“I need to check my phone.” Tessa rustles around in her bag with shaky hands as we walk through the lobby to the elevators.
As we stand, waiting, she scrolls through the messages on her phone and shakes her head. She mutters under her breath as she reads each one, and I have no idea what awaits us upstairs. I feel like a teenage boy bringing his date home after her curfew. Hell, it’s only twelve thirty, a few strokes past midnight, and early for the city on a Friday night. Apparently she is Cinderella, at least to her family. And that makes me the bad wolf in this “southern girl comes to the Big Apple” fairy tale.
“Seventeen missed messages from my mother, brother, and even my father. They escalate from ‘how’s your evening,’ to ‘give us a call or we’re phoning the police.’” Tessa gazes up at me with cloudy eyes. “I don’t want to play my voice messages.”
“Understandable.” We enter the elevator and I push the button for her floor.
“Oh God.” A tear escapes her gorgeous baby blue eyes and falls down her cheek. And with it, a piece of my heart falls harder for this young woman. I don’t want her feeling pain ever. I want to shield and protect her, but it’s her family.
“Listen, Tessa. It will be okay.” I hug her and kiss the top of her hair. Soft silk meets my lips and her sweet scent fills my senses. I close my eyes, drinking all of her in.
This protectiveness of her makes me feel uneasy about the confrontation too. I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head upward so I can see her face. “I think it’s best that I don’t appear as your date for the evening. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” she says in a shaky voice. I release my arms around her and wipe the tears from her face. “It will raise too many question. Thank you. I’m the worst date ever.”
“Well, having cops at my date’s door is a new one for me. But I’m learning there’s seldom a dull moment around you,” I say with a chuckle. The elevator stops, and the doors open. “Just follow my lead. I’ve got you, baby.”
We exit the elevator and walk down a hallway toward her room. Tessa stays a step behind me. I glance over my shoulder and give her a reassuring smile. We turn a corner, and two uniformed New York City policemen come into view, with the night manager, Josh Presley, on their left.
“Gentlemen,” I say, stopping in front of Tessa’s room. She’s at my side, but partially hiding behind me. “This is Contessa Holly. I’ve escorted her upstairs after my bellman alerted me to the situation.”
“Mr. Hammond. I have Miss Holly’s brother on the phone.” Presley holds his cell phone up. “He’d like to speak with you.”
The policemen stare us down, crossing their arms over their chests, revealing the guns holstered at their waists.
“Let me talk to him and clear everything up,” Tessa says, moving toward Presley with her hand outstretched. “I apologize for the inconvenience to ya’ll.”
“Hold on.” Presley brings his cell phone up to his ear. “I suppose you heard all of this, Officer Holly?”