Page 4 of Misbooked for Love

She raises an eyebrow, and the corner of my mouth twitches, despite the confusion and my half naked state. I should be appalled, really. But now I’m intrigued.

“Is this how you introduce yourself to all your neighbors?” she asks, one hand on her hip in the mostcocky way. “Most people start with a friendly wave, maybe a plate of cookies. Not a strip show.”

I groan and bury my face in one of my hands. “Why is this happening to me?” I mumble behind the palm of my hand. Clearly things have to start getting better. Can’t be worse than this.

“You know what?” she says, and her eyes finally find mine. There’s a slight blush on her cheeks still, but her expression shifts and her gaze turns deadly. “Oh no, oh no. No, no. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Oh, the rude jerk that bumped against me in the hallway and didn’t even apologize. Nope. You know what?”

I blink, unable to come up with a response. Is this a rhetorical question? Am I supposed to answer her now?

She turns on her heel and runs down the stairs. I hear the slam of the door below, and I stand there for a moment, still dripping, the towel slipping slightly at my waist. My heart’s pounding—not just from the surprise, but from the absurdity of it all.

“What the fuck,” I mutter, walking into the closet and seeing at least five outfits hanging from the rod, stacks of neatly folded shirts and sweaters on the shelves on one side of the closet. “Fuck.”

3

CLARA

I practically fly downthe hallway, my cheeks burning from the embarrassment of what just happened. My heart is pounding, and my mind is still reeling from the sight of that gorgeous man, half naked, dripping wet, and glaring at me like I was in the wrong. I barrel past a group of teenagers taking selfies in front of a giant heart-shaped wreath by the door, my boots squeaking against the polished wooden floors as I make my way back to the front desk.

The receptionist from this afternoon is still there, except now she’s wearing a light-up heart necklace that, frankly, looks ridiculous. She looks up, startled as I skid to a stop in front of her. Her smile is polite but a little deprecating, as if I were a lost puppy trying tofind its way home. And it only makes my irritation spike.

“Hi, um, Laura,” I say, squinting at her name tag while I’m violently blinded by her glowing necklace. “Excuse me.” I’m breathless and fumbling over my words. “There is a man in my villa. A man who is not supposed to be there.”

She blinks, her smile faltering. “Oh... I’m sorry, could you clarify?—”

“I just walked into my villa—villa fourteen, the one you checked me into—and… and found a man. Naked. Well, almost naked. In my room. In my bathroom. Using the towel I was planning to use tonight after a long bath. I need a bath.” I wave my hands, trying to get my point across without bursting into hysterical laughter at the absurdity of it all. “I mean, why would he be there if it’s my villa?”

Her eyes widen, and she clicks around on her computer, the screen reflecting off her heart necklace in frantic little flashes. “Oh my goodness,” she says, cocking her head to the side, analyzing whatever is on the screen in front of her. “I’m so sorry about that. Let me just pull up your reservation details again.”

I stand there, bouncing on the balls of my feet, my mind replaying the mortifying scene of the man wrapped in that towel, his broad shoulders dripping water all over the floor. He looked furious, and honestly, I don’t blame him. But it’s notmy fault. I booked this room fair and square. With the hundreds of thousands of points I’ve accumulated throughout my years traveling. Yes, it’s mine. And I deserve it because it’s been hell for the past three years, and I just need space and time and to be freaking alone.

“There’s clearly been some sort of mistake,” I add, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. “I was told it was my villa. You checked me in! I came here to relax, not share my space with some asshole—” I cut myself off, realizing I’m venting to the wrong person and this is not what she needs right now.

Laura the receptionist looks up, her face apologetic and white as a ghost. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Ledesma. It seems there was an error in our system.” She looks back down at her screen and tap, tap, taps her keyboard a few times, hemming and hawing. “It seems,” she repeats, “we double-booked villa fourteen.”

She finally looks up at me and blinks a few times, expectant.

“Okay,” I drawl, trying to get the conversation moving. I have no answer for her. I’m expecting a solution to come from her lips any second now.

The man, that disgustingly good-looking asshole that I had the dishonor of looking at half naked just now, chooses that very moment to walk up, his thick thighs encased in gray sweatpants and his lean torso covered in a long sleeve white shirt. He’s walking inthe direction of the front desk, a stoic look on his face and his stride casual and slow, like this is not a problem at all.

“And, it seems, unfortunately, because of the Valentine’s Day weekend and the snowstorm, all of our other accommodations are currently full.”

I stare at her, uncomprehending. “What do you mean, full? Like, completely full?”

“Yes,” she says with an apologetic wince. “Every villa, every room. We’ve had so many unexpected guests due to the storm back east, and with the holiday weekend… I’m really, truly sorry.”

“Wait, what storm? You know what? Not important right now.” I shake my head and close my eyes, taking a deep, calming, centering breath. “So you’re telling me that I’m stuck sharing with—” I gesture vaguely in the direction of this guy, who is now standing next to me and looking at the heart-shaped necklace like it offends him. My frustration bubbles over. “I mean, I don’t even know him! He could be anyone!”

“I’m right here,” he replies, crossing his arms, his muscles bunching up with the movement. “And I can say the same thing about you, too.”

“Oh! Mr. Hall, Tom!” She nods enthusiastically at him, her heart necklace moving along with her. “I’m so sorry for the confusion, sir,” she adds, looking straight at him with the biggest smile ever displayedby a human being. And I would know, I work with people all day long.

“We’ve already comped your resort fee, and we’re happy to offer complimentary services—spa access, meal vouchers, anything we can do to make this right,” she continues, her voice earnest. “But unfortunately, as far as lodging goes, there’s no other option at the moment.”

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