Page 8 of A Win-Win Situation

I angrily swipe at it but more follow and I end up cradling my face in my hands, unable to stop the flood of tears.

I hate feeling like this—powerless and defeated.

When the tears subside, I take a deep breath and steady myself against the cold kitchen island, determined not to let these emotions ruin everything. I can't let myself ruin this vacation for the girls, and I won't let myself fall victim to my own negative thoughts. We've all worked so hard to get where we are, and we need to enjoy every moment of our well-deserved break.

"I can do this. Ineedto do this," I whisper to myself, wiping away the last of my tears. Vacation is therapy and I need a lot of it. I'll just put my feelings aside for now and deal with them when we're back in two weeks. That sounds doable.

I mean, at this point, what else could possibly go wrong?

FOUR

LEORA

As soon as we step through the grand, double doors of Hôtel Ayoub d'Or, we're welcomed with warm greetings, a bottle of Laurent-Perrier champagne, and copious amounts of chocolate. The champagne is definitely high quality, and the first sip is pure heaven—the bubbly liquid dancing on my tongue, while the rich chocolate melts in my mouth. The decadence of it is almost overwhelming. I feel like royalty.

My eyes widen as I take in the sheer size and beauty of the lobby. The marble floors shine beneath my feet, and the towering ceilings seem to stretch on forever. The entire space is drenched in natural light, making the already expansive lobby seem even more grandiose.

To my left, there's a seating area with plush armchairs and sofas, arranged in a circle in the center of the floor. Directly above the lavish arrangement is a massive, crystal chandelier that sparkles like diamonds. To my right, there’s a sweeping staircase that leads to the upper floors, while in front of me, a long, ornate reception desk beckons.

The walls are lined with priceless works of art, and fresh flower arrangements adorn every corner, filling the air with a lovely, floral fragrance. Soft, melodic music plays in thebackground, adding to the enchanting ambiance. I take a moment to soak it all in, relishing my luxurious surroundings and the feeling of being somewhere special.

Sophie did an amazing job with the planning. "How the hell did you pullthisoff with the budget we had?" I ask her in awe. If I recall correctly, this was not the hotel we booked—something about needing to change the hotel at the last minute due to renovations—butthisis completely out of our budget. I wouldn’t be able to afford this hotel with a jobanda sugar daddy.

"I know a guy," Sophie says, leaving us as she heads to the reception desk. Adeline just laughs and follows her. But just before I start moving toward the girls, I glance to my left, my gaze stopping on a man standing by the wall, engrossed in a conversation on his phone.

No, not a man.

Adonis himself.

He’s tall, towering over the crowd around him, with olive skin and dark, curly hair tousled in a way that makes it look effortlessly stylish. I can’t help but imagine running my fingers through those soft curls. He turns his chin to the side, revealing a profile that is just as striking as the rest of him. His strong jawline is framed by a bit of scruff, and his plump lips are set in a determined line as he speaks into his phone.

He‘s wearing a crisp, perfectly tailored white shirt that hugs his body in all the right places, accentuating his broad chest and strong arms. The fabric stretches across his shoulders, hinting at the strength and power beneath it.

Wait, what the hell is wrong with me?

I need to focus on something . . . anything else.

"To get over someone, you need to get under someone else,"Adeline said as we stepped off the plane. I shut it down quickly, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe it's not such a bad idea after all?

A distraction might be fun.

Still, that detestable voice inside of me is loud. A manlike himwould never even look at a girllike me.Especially not when I have my hair in a loose bun, and while I'm wearing simple yoga pants and have a hoodie tied around my waist. Lost in my thoughts, I don’t even realize that I have been caught staring until it’s too late. I snap my gaze to my feet but still feel a pair of eyes on me, and when I look back up, I see him looking straight at me, sporting an amused expression on his face.

Fuck.

I quickly look away, blushing fiercely, hoping to hide my mortification. A minute goes by—or seconds, I don’t even know—but I still feel the pull toward him. I discreetly take a peek back in his direction, hoping he’s back to looking at his phone, but I’m met with a blank hotel wall.

Gone.

Where did he go?

Someone behind me clears their throat, sending a shiver down my spine.

Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.Please don’t be him.

I turn slowly.

"Didn’t anyone ever teach you that staring is rude?" He raises an eyebrow, studying me.

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