Page 87 of The Penalty

My cell phone started ringing. Of course it was buried at the bottom of my bag. I rummaged through, feeling my way around.

Lip gloss, sunglasses, passport…

The ringing stopped when my hand brushed an envelope. Must be a piece of mail I shoved in there before leaving for Miami. I pulled it out.

Plain, white, no address.

Oh. It’s probably the itinerary from Miami.

I tossed it in the trash and continued looking for my phone.

One missed call from an unknown number. The eerie sensation I’d had earlier returned. Never really thought Paris would bring out the creepy, horror movie vibes.

“I’m being fucking ridiculous,” I grumbled, grabbing the box and heading to the lobby. I exchanged a pleasant smile with one of the room attendants on my way to the elevator.

The concierge was as polite as can be, apologizing for the mistake. She checked the computer several times, glancing at me nervously.

“Mademoiselle, je suis désolé, this is for you. Hannah Pruitt, non?”

Confused, I answered, “No. That’s my friend, She’s in the room down the hall from me.”

“Apologies, mademoiselle, ” she said, placing her hand on the box. “They must have misread the room number. I can have someone deliver it to her.”

“That’s not necessary.” I reached for the small package. “I can give it to her. Do you have a record of who delivered it?”

“A local courier. They come and go all day.”

“Thanks for your help. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Not a problem. Ça m’a fait plaisir.”

Tapping my nails on the box, I waited by the elevator. Why would Hannah need a flash drive? More importantly, why would she be working on a girls’ weekend? When I reached my floor, I continued down the hall and knocked on Hannah’s door.

Alex answered because of course he would. Steely gray eyes skirted over my face before he greeted me with a monotone, “Can I help you with something?”

“Always a pleasure, Alex.” I stifled an eye roll and held up the box. “This was delivered to my room by accident. It’s for Hannah.”

He plucked the box from my fingers. “I’ll see that she gets it. Thank you.”

The door closed in my face before I could say anything.

“Rude,” I muttered, pulling my vibrating phone out of my pocket.

Unknown: Never know who’s watching

A photo of Hannah and I having brunch accompanied the text.

Xavier

Whoever said losing builds character never competed in an international football match.

Plus, they’re an idiot.

The crowd chanted allez les bleus all around me while I sat in front of my goal. The ball still rested against the net after the referee blew his whistle to end the game. French flags waved everywhere in a sea of blue jerseys.

I slammed my hands down on the grass before standing up.

“We’ll get ‘em next time, mate.”

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