Page 34 of The Best Worst Mistake
Jules lets out a long breath and pushes the credit card to the edge of the counter, nearly tipping it onto the worker’s keyboard.
“Wonderful. I’ll take it.”
“It’ll be eleven hundred per night, plus taxes and fees. And I’ll need your passports to check you in as well.”
Jules’ jaw drops.
“As in, dollars?”
“As in Swiss francs. That’s roughly thirteen hundred dollars per night, plus the taxes and fees.”
She clears her throat while I swallow down a laugh. Then she tilts her chin toward me, eyes wide. I’m busy restricting another chuckle while I watch her face morph into a defiant grin.
“I’ll take it,” she announces, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
I grab her card off the counter.
“No, she won’t,” I tell the attendant. I turn to Jules. “Juliet Hart, you’re being ridiculous. Just follow his plan. I won’t go near your room. Why would I, seeing as you’ve been sofunto travel with this far?” I add, sarcastically.
She sighs, then silently debates her options. Finally, she takes her card back and stuffs it in her wallet.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbles under her breath. “Fine. Whatever.” Then she rummages through her handbag and slaps her passport down on the counter before turning toward me. “Do you have yours?”
“Does this mean we’re checking in?” I ask, removing my passport from my briefcase. I hold it above the countertop until she confirms. “Just one suite?”
“Just give her the damn passport, Silas,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Let’s get the key to the suite so we can get our hands on the letter, and then we’ll talk about accommodations. I’m too hungry to argue about this anymore.”
The attendant’s face brightens.
“Yes, I see a note about that here in your reservation. It looks like the letter has been left in our hotel safe for quite some time now. If I can get both of your passports, please . . .” She pauses to eyeball me. “It says you both need to sign for it.” The attendant is calm, ignoring the spat we’ve just had, as if she’s watched thousands of couples argue at check-in. Even though Jules and I are definitely not a couple. “And it looks like it will be released to you once you’ve checked intothesuite.”
I place my passport next to hers. Andy, Carl, and the rest of the flight crew are staying at another hotel in town — giving them much needed privacy from the two of us. Fortunately, it’s just Jules and I here now in the lobby.
“It’s not about having a fancy set of rooms,” I tell her. “I won’t go near your side. It’s just how the reservations were made. For whatever reason, this is how Grant planned it.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that? It’s not like he can jump out and scold us for disobeying his almighty travel plan. It was probably just an oversight anyway. Grant was always very frugal.”
“You’re not going to be this big of a pain in the ass the entire trip, are you?” I ask before I can stop myself.
The attendant tucks her lips behind her teeth, but continues to check us in silently.
“Are you?” Jules shoots back. The corners of her mouth rise, her angry facade cracking ever so slightly as if she’s slightly enjoying this.
I’m about to respond, but her lips widen. It’s the first semblance of a smile since we landed here in Switzerland, and I decide to just let her have this round.
“Fair,” I tell her. “I promise not to bother you once we’re checked in.”
“Fine. But don’t expect me to come out of my side unless it’s to eat. Or drink.Excessively,” she adds.
I hold in a laugh.
“It’s a deal.”
“What are we doing here in Interlaken anyway?”
“Skydiving,” I tell her matter-of-factly while grabbing both key cards off the counter. “We’re jumping out of a plane in the morning.”
She turns, eyes bulging, just as the attendant places a familiar-looking envelope down on the counter between us.
