Page 24 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“Yay.” He undid the large red silk ribbon. “Oh, wine and treats. I want to live here forever.”
“Suitcases in the closet, sir?” Arsenio asked.
“Yes, please.”
“May I bring you anything else?”
“Ice would be great. Thank you.”
After Arsenio left, we checked out the rest of the suite. In the bedroom, we found a king-size bed.
“Oh, shit.” Of course there was only one bed. “Lawrence thought I was coming by myself. I’m sorry, Epic.”
“No worries. It’ll be fine to share.”
“Probably the couch folds out.”
“This room is amazing.” He peeked into the bathroom. “Come look at this. It’s huge.”
I looked. “The tile was all handmade, I think.”
Epic turned to me. “Did you ever see the movieZorro?”
“You mean the one with Antonio Banderas? Or Tyrone Power?” I narrowed my eyes. “Choose wisely because only one answer is correct.”
“Tyrone Power FTW.” He pumped his fist and quoted, “'This is California, where a man can only marry, raise fat children, and watch his vinyards grow.’”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I’d have to find a place to hide your body.”
He shoved his windblown hair off his face. “I love old Hollywood.”
“Me too.”
In the living room, I opened the cabernet sauvignon, poured two glasses and took a long, healthy sip.
This.I needed exactly this. The artfully manicured—yet made to look wild—gardens. Sand between my toes. The chance to sit still and consider what was next for me. Because it had been a long, long time since I’d slowed down enough to take stock.
Arsenio came back with ice. I thanked him in the customary way since I could afford to be a big tipper if Lawrence was footing the hotel bill. “Thank you. Have a nice afternoon, Arsenio.”
“Thank you, sir.” He smiled and left us.
Once we were alone, silence fell like a blanket of fog.
Epic, who rarely shut up, simply took the wine I offered him.
“To your health,” I said.
“And yours.” We clinked our glasses together.
He fussed with the contents of the hamper for a few minutes. Three cheeses, a couple of different types of charcuterie, some fruit, honey, and nuts. He even dug out caviar and crème fraîche and some packaged blini to go with them.
“This is quite a spread,” I said. “Guess if you like this stuff, we could snack on the patio.”
He nodded.
“Hey, did I do something?” I asked. “If it’s about the bed, you can take it. I’ve slept on a ton of pullouts in my day.”
“No. It’s not that.” He picked up the hamper and headed for the patio. “It’s just that this is so much more amazing than I thought it would be. I’m totally unprepared for this level of…good fortune.”
