Page 38 of Growing Into Love

“Huh?” I say, pointing at the last one.

Betty glances at it. “Oh, there was some drama a few years ago when a rider and a trainer had an, um, inappropriate relationship and it blew up into this whole embarrassing thing. So now they have that rule. No making out you two,” she jokes. My face burns.

“We aren’t together,” Jaz says.

My face burns hotter.

“She’s got a boyfriend, I mean,” Jaz stammers. “He’s a dentist. His name is—”

“I don’t think Betty needs to know all that, Jaz,” I say tightly. I sign the list and hand it back to her. Jaz does the same.

“Great,” Betty says. She types something into her computer then frowns. “Hmm,” she murmurs. She types again. “Ah. Okay, so there’s been a mix-up with some of our bookings. I see you had booked separate rooms, but it looks like we only have one available at the moment. It’s our largest room though.” She smiles at us beatifically.

“I’m sorry, what?” My hearts starts to race. Share a room? I want to be close to Jaz but not share-a-bathroom close.

“We were definitely expecting separate rooms,” Jaz says.

“Of course,” Betty says quickly. “I’m so sorry. This is our busy season, and we have a new employee who isn’t used to our system. Listen, why don’t you guys head up to the room and relax for a little while. I’ll work my magic here and figure something out. I’ll give you a call when it’s sorted. Does that sound okay?”

“That sounds great,” Jaz says quickly.

Hmph. Even though I don’t want to share a room with Jaz, I don’t love how eager he sounds not to share a room with me.

We head to the lifts and then up to the second floor. The hall is lined with big wooden doors with brass handles. Our room is at the very end, and our keys are old-fashioned, skeleton-type numbers. It all feels a bit murder mystery mansion in a way I rather like. We roll our bags up to Room 214 and Jaz puts the key in the lock.

“Whoa,” we say in unison.

The room is enormous. A queen-size bed dominates one wall, covered in mint-green bedding with lots of decorative pillows. There are exposed beams overhead and a faux fireplace set in a brick wall. Large French doors lead out onto the small balcony. There’s a plasma screen telly, a teak table with two chairs, and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket with a note attached. I go to read it and it says, “Welcome to Windy Acres, Cassandra Wright!”

My heart does a little shimmy.

“Cass,” Jaz says, and I whirl around. There’s a nook I didn’t even notice, a recess in the wall that contains—no joke—ajacuzzi tub.

“Ahhhh!” I squeal. “This is crazy!”

“It’s definitely the nicest place I’ve ever stayed,” he says, looking bewildered. He opens the door beside the tub. “Christ, I think this loo is as big as my bedroom.”

There are two sinks set in a marble countertop, a standing showeranda claw-foot porcelain tub, plus all the toiletries a girl could ask for.

I hurry inside and open the cap on the shampoo, taking a deep inhale.

“What does it smell like?” Jaz asks.

I grin at him. “America.”

He laughs. “I hope wherever they end up putting me is half as nice.” He glances at the champagne. “That was a thoughtful gift.”

“Not like I can drink it,” I say. “Del would never let me.”

Jaz’s mouth curves into a mischievous grin. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, Cass but…” He gestures to himself. “I’m not Del.”

A shiver of excitement runs up my spine.

“I don’t thinkoneglass of champagne could hurt,” he says. “You’ve had a lot going on these past few days.” His face twists, like he’s eaten something sour. “Maybe you should let David know you landed first.”

“Right,” I say. I take out my phone and text Zara.

Hi, I’m here, the room is amazing, Jaz thinks I have a boyfriend named David who lives in Stanley Law and works as a dentist. He’s the one I was supposedly sexting, can you pretend to be David for a minute?

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