Page 5 of Muerte

We were ten minutes late getting back to work. Luckily, the suite on my roster was a prep and not a check-out or refresher. Normally, the regular rooms were supposed to be done in less than thirty minutes.

Suites tended to take longer since they were bigger. If they’d been thoroughly used, I could forget any kind of timetable. Having to come in after a bachelor party was a new kind of torture. I would be scarred forever by some of the things I’d found under and in these beds. If it weren’t for the resort’s vigorous cleaning policy, I wouldn’t think any of them sanitary.

I finished fluffing the decorative pillows in the sitting area and then went to check the bathroom, making sure the toilet paper and mini bottles of soap and lotions were presentable before moving into the bedroom. I grabbed the silver bed tray from a nightstand and began to load it up with more of the resort’s customary welcome novelties.

Hearing a man’s voice carry from across the room, I paused and looked in the direction it’d come from.

The drapes were still drawn, prohibiting me from seeing outside, but someone was definitely out on the balcony, and there wasn’t supposed to be anyone in here. I quickly searched for signs of luggage but didn’t see any. If it weren’t for the event going on today, I would’ve found this odd. The bellhops never delayed in bringing up bags.

The front desk must have forgotten to mark this room as preoccupied. That, or it was a self-check-in and the app had glitched because it couldn’t handle the traffic. Either way, this was a major oversight. I hadn’t even announced myself. I’d waltzed right in like I lived here. I needed to promptly waltz right back out.

No sooner had the thought registered and I began to move away from the bed than the balcony door slid open, sending my plan for a stealthy escape up in flames.

The thick drapes parted and a man in a fitted button-down stepped from behind them, a suit jacket draped over one of his forearms. We both froze at the sight of one another, him clearly not expecting anyone to be in his room and me fumbling for my best customer service smile.

I could smell his cologne from where I stood, belatedly realizing the aroma had been lingering in the air since I walked into this suite. It was the same one I’d smelled on the man I’d nearly run into down in the lobby. I managed a smile that I hoped looked genial, struggling to keep my eyes trained on his face.

I prayed the sudden rush of heat in my cheeks wasn’t broadcasting how insanely attractive I found him, like some cliché anime schoolgirl. Was this one of the men Anya had seen downstairs? I couldn’t imagine many scenarios where she wouldn’t notice someone who looked like this.

He was so good looking that it was actually a bit…unsettling. His golden-brown skin was a shade or two darker than my own. His nose perfectly centered. Cleft chin. Angular cheek bones and chiseled jawline framed by freshly shaven stubble. A head of healthy jet-black hair tapered at his nape and curled slightly behind his ears.

It was as if Augusta Savage herself had sculpted him, ensuring he was close to perfect, but not without flaws. There was a scar on the right side of his face. The only mark on otherwise flawless skin.

It started near the edge of his brow and extended a good three to four inches down. It had faded with time and added a subtle savagery to his beauty. His eyes were something to behold on their own. They reminded me of imperial topaz. I became tongue-tied in the few seconds it took to look him over from head to toe.

Fortunately, working in the retail and service industry since I was old enough to have a permit saved me from remaining an incompetent, speechless idiot.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone had checked in yet,” I explained, offering a tentative smile.

“I told the front desk not to worry about the pleasantries,” he replied, his cultured voice deep and a touch gravelly.

“I think there may have been a mix-up with everything going on.”

“You think?” he repeated, clearly not pleased with that explanation.

“Sorry,” I apologized again for lack of better response.

“Why are you apologizing when you’re not the one who couldn’t follow simple instructions?”

I found myself at a loss for words again, but at least this time it was for a sensible reason.

I didn’t think this was that big of a deal, but I also wasn’t wealthy enough to afford a single night in the suite he’d chosen. I couldn’t afford this room for a few hours without parting with a chunk of my soul. He looked from the bed and then back to me as he reached behind him to pull the balcony door shut.

“Have you finished then?”

Oh, I guess I had just been standing here like I wasn’t sure what to do. “Um, yes. I’ll be on my way now. If you need anything, the phone on the nightstand can connect you to the front desk. Just dial two.” I turned away from him and retrieved my trolley.

“Wait.”

His softly spoken command carried clearer than any shout, sending a trickle of apprehension down my back. I plastered on a smile that put my dimples on full display and turned around.

“Yes?”

He retrieved something from his rear pocket—a wallet—and flipped it open, removing a few crisp bills. “Is this enough?” he asked, extending them towards me.

Eyeing the money with confusion, I couldn’t help but notice how large his hands were, and the thick metal band on his ring finger. Unsurprisingly, he was married. “What’s that for?”

“Your tip.”

---