Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“Alrighty-then,” Seymour sings in a smug tone. “Friday night. Be ready after your shift ends.”
“Friday night,” I repeat in a mumble as I yank open the door and let myself out. I exhale in a gust as soon as I’m out in the hallway. Great. Now I get to apologize to a guest for something that I didn’t do and spend my Friday night out on a date with the slimiest man I’ve ever known. How in the world did things come to this? I’m starting to think that maybe getting fired would have been the better option seeing the way my life is going.
3
DANIELLE
The next day.
After my shift ends, I make my way back up to the presidential suite to apologize for the alleged “mishap.” I’m still dressed in my maid’s uniform, but I made sure to freshen up my hair and makeup before coming since I want to look as presentable as possible while on my apology tour. And…okay, I want to impress the sexy man that I saw in the suite yesterday. It never hurts to look good, and I admit that I’m not above using my feminine wiles.
It takes me a few moments to work up the courage to knock, but I finally do after fiddling with my dress and wiping the invisible dust off my uniform. The door opens just a few moments later, and my eyes widen as I see the handsome man from yesterday up close.
He’s much taller than I thought, and his deep blue eyes flash as he looks down at me. He’s shirtless, and it takes everything in me to keep myself from looking away from his eyes to stare at his smooth, golden skin and toned abs. I feel as if the breath has been knocked out of me as he stands there waiting.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“Um, I’m Danielle Smythe,” I say in a tentative tone. “I work for the hotel. You put in a complaint, and I’m here to apologize?”
He nods, blue eyes gleaming now.
“Oh right,” he nods before stepping to the side. “Come in. I’m looking forward to hearing it.”
Something about the way he says those words makes me pause. Why does he sound so cocky? But it doesn’t matter because this should take all of thirty seconds, and then I’ll be out of here. Yet somehow, I know it’s going to be a longer process than that.
But the hesitant expression immediately melts off my face once I step inside and catch sight of the two women from yesterday poised on one of the couches.
“Star, Lacy,” the man drawls. “This is the maid from yesterday. I’m Barron Colgate, by the way. This is my suite.”
I let out a quiet gasp as I look at the blondes because despite the fact that it’s only seven p.m., both are clad only in tiny sets of lingerie. Their breasts jiggle as they wave, but they don’t seem to care that I’m seeing them nearly nude because they simply smile lazily while shifting on the couch.
“Hiya,” says Blonde One.
“Hey there,” coos Blonde Two.
Barron rolls his eyes.
“To be more specific, this is Star,” Barron points to the girl on the right. “And this is Lacy,” he points to the girl on the left. They’re both gorgeous enough to make me feel just a tad bit self-conscious, with their big breasts, plump thighs, and curvy figures hugged perfectly by small scraps of lace and silk. But they seem nice enough. Star stares at me with a set of wide and curious eyes while Lacy looks me over for a moment before nodding her head slightly, as if in approval.
“Um, it’s nice to meet you, Star and Lacy. I’m Danielle,” I stammer. What the hell kind of names are Star and Lacy? But I’m not here to ask questions. I’m here to apologize, so when Barron gestures for me to take a seat on the couch across from the two girls, I do. He sits between the women, and they immediately curl up to his sides, giggling as he wraps heavy arms around them. I try not to look nervous as I clear my throat.
“Mr. Colgate–” I start, but he quickly cuts me off.
“Please, just call me Barron.”
“Barron,” I correct myself with a slight smile. Butterflies swirl in my stomach as he stares at me with those sharp eyes of his. This is clearly a man who misses nothing. “I sincerely apologize for…”
I bite my lip as I try to figure out how to phrase my next sentence. I didn’t go through his things, so I don’t want to apologize for that, but what if he gets offended if I tell him that he was wrong?
“What are you apologizing for?” he quirks a handsome brow, and a hot twinge goes through my insides again.
“For the mix-up,” I state in a firm tone. “I can assure you that I didn’t rummage through any of your personal belongings, at least not on purpose. But it’s possible that I touched something that I wasn’t supposed to while I was here cleaning. So for that, my sincere regrets.”