Page 108 of Tasty Cherry

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Page 108 of Tasty Cherry

Ah. I get it. “It’s not a bad thought. There are no pictures of us together.” Well, other than camera footage of us in the halls, perhaps. And I never scrubbed the security camera kiss from the first week, not that anyone will go looking. It’s long buried in miles of files, all shoved onto a backup drive who knows where.

“I keep imagining I’ll scroll through my phone looking for something and someone will spot the picture.”

“Makes sense. We’ll make up for it one day by taking a million.”

She nods.

I lift her onto my lap and slip my fingers beneath the bottom of her sweater to find her skin. It’s warm and smooth. I want to sink into her.

“So, you have some new positions to show me?” She wraps her arms around my neck.

“Oh, do I.”

35

MILA

The next week, Sebastian and I get better at being sneaky. I’m in housekeeping, so I scan in and out of rooms all over the place with the other workers. During lunch, Sebastian figures out which rooms are empty in the halls I’ve already scanned into, and we meet in one.

Afterward, I replace the sheets myself, and drop the others in the laundry. It’s the perfect cover.

Ilsa is also in housekeeping with me, but thankfully, she gets sent to a completely different wing. If she was even on the same hall, I would never have risked seeing Sebastian during my break.

We’re like little kids, dashing in doors and around corners. I’ve never had so much fun in my life.

While Ilsa and I vacuum carpet, Brooklyn gets to do an event with Havannah, a fiftieth anniversary gala for a local politician. It’s extravagant and beautiful, and I often pause with my housekeeping cart when we pass the back doors to admire the decorations and set up.

Brooklyn is in her element, practically glowing as she directs workers and runs errands for Havannah.

Lucky duck.

Except if I were doing that job, I would have no chances to see Sebastian.

For my fourth week, I get the maintenance rotation with Trey.

We spend Monday morning working on the security camera that covers the corridor between the western banquet hall and the wedding suite wing. It’s feeding nothing but static to the security monitors.

Trey determines it can’t be fixed and puts in a requisition to order a new one.

“How long will that take?” I ask him.

“A good week, probably,” he tells me. We move on to look at a running toilet in the princess wing.

But I think to myself — the wedding hall is unmonitored.

On Tuesday, Trey and I scan into the bridal suite because the couple who checked out that morning reported the hot tub jets weren’t working very well.

We determine it’s only buildup in the sprayer, easily handled.

I look around the fluffy white room with a heart-shaped bed and en suite hot tub. I want to be here with Sebastian.

The bridal suite is rarely occupied during the week. Most couples stay the night of their wedding, then leave for their honeymoon. The companies that hire out the hall for meetings aren’t interested in the themed room.

When it’s time for lunch, I message Sebastian.

I scanned into the bridal suite earlier today, and it’s unoccupied.

He writes me back.




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