Page 22 of Forbidden Eyes
No text back, but it doesn’t stop me bouncing in my chair. Suddenly, the fatigue that had started to grab hold of me is knocked back. When the driver pulls up, I head right up to reception and pass on my instructions.
“Certainly, Miss.” A gentle nod and I’m escorted to a bank of elevators. The doors open and the bellhop turns a key on the console before excusing himself.
Butterflies spring to life on the ride up. When the doors open, I step out into a glossy entryway—all white marble, exotic flowers, and glass. My footsteps turn timid as I look around the place, but my curiosity is attracted to the windows spilling sunlight into the room.
“Come on in. There’s room service set up for you.” Carter appears from nowhere. “I’ll take your bags through.” He seems brighter somehow than he was when I left. I follow him through the expansive and sleek room. He opens a set of double doors into a master suite and sets my bags down.
“Half an hour. We’ll be walking the floor, so don’t wear heels unless you can stand in them.”
He leaves, shutting me in.
My eyes blink, and I’m left a little starstruck for a moment, then I catch a glimpse in the mirror and know I need to get a move on. I dump the garments out of the bag and set about making myself presentable, in between mouthfuls of club sandwich.
A minute to four and I go in search of Carter. He’s standing in the main area with a glass of clear liquid in his hand. “Ready?” I ask. My heart pounds in my chest, waiting for his approval.
He turns around, and I study his eyes, hoping they’ll cover me, take me in. They don’t. His ice-glare is back, and he shows no flicker of interest in my outfit. High waisted, fitted pants with a wide leg, teamed with a V-neck cami top ensure I look professional, but this is not the reaction I was hoping for from Carter. At least the modest black pumps I’m wearing give me an extra couple of inches, although Carter still towers over me as he approaches.
“What happened to the dress?”
“The dress is for later. I thought this was acceptable for now.”
He nods and turns, crooking his finger.
“I have rules. I want you to follow them while you're with me," he says.
I nod, waiting.
"No drinking. None. Don’t ask questions when I’m talking to the staff. Save them for when we’re alone. And you do as I tell you. Stay where I put you."
I'm so excited I'll do just about anything he asks. I smile privately, trying to lower my gaze.
"And, Sofia, keep up. Understand? I haven't got time for chasing adolescent behaviour.”
Asshole.
"Do. You. Understand?"
“Yes.”
“Good.” He sets off, and I follow in his wake, suddenly sullen.
“Where to first?”
“The manager.”
“What exactly do you need to check up on?” I ask, as we enter the elevator. I stand next to him and tilt my head up towards him, waiting for his answer.
“He’ll show me the schedule and plan for the night. I’ll review. Maybe ask a few questions.”
“So, it’s not an exact, like, checklist?”
“Yes, there are explicit things…”
“But it sounds like this is beneath you. Don’t casinos and hotels open every day in the world? Wouldn’t Uncle Quinn want you doing something else? Board meetings, investors?”
“We don’t have a board or investors.”
“Right.” I stop talking, feeling foolish, and resign myself to following Carter’s lead.