Page 35 of Princess of Pride
Me:It’s Emery. I need one night to myself. If you respect this for me, I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon at the estate and will comply with your future wishes.
My stomach drops as I hit send. This will hopefully throw him off the chase, give me the time I need to call Raphael’s dad, get his son’s number, make sure he’s okay, and devise another plan of escape before my fake meeting with Lachlan tomorrow.
I jump at the preset ringtone when a reply text comes in from Lachlan—or rather the name I christened him with.
Scathing liar: You have one night.
I stare at the text in disbelief. He’s giving me one night. Why? Maybe he’s too angry to be around me. Maybe he’s coming up with ways to torture me. Not that he would… I don’t think.
The car stops. “The Carlyle,” Peter says.
One of the hotel attendants opens the door for me.
“Thank you.” I pay and rate the ride five stars—per our agreement—before getting out on the sidewalk.
“Checking in?” asks the older man. He does a quick scan of my outfit and his upper lip curls slightly.
I forgot I’m wearing the nighty-looking dress and that my boobs are on display. Now, I really wish I hadn’t agreed to give Peter my wedding gown in addition to the thousand-dollar tip.
I can’t bring myself to ask for it back though. He showed me a picture of his daughter on his phone and said she loves couture but can’t afford it for her wedding. She’s also tiny like me but evenly proportioned. The bust will need to be taken in, but since she can sew, that won’t be a problem. The dresswould look beautiful on her. Besides, someone should get a happily ever after from this gown.
“Yes,” I answer the attendant and cross my arms, trying to hide my ample chest.
“Any luggage?”
“No.” Jeez, I sound as ridiculous as I look. Note to self: add shopping to my list of things to do tonight.
The man ushers me to the check-in counter inside the luxury hotel filled with massive fresh floral arrangements and attendants offering flutes of champagne to the guests. The woman at the counter recognizes my last name.
“Spencer, as in Garyn Spencer of Spencer Securities? Welcome back.”
I didn’t think my family would still be in their system. I give her a tight smile, my nerves flaring to one hundred degrees. A more private hotel would have been better.
“Does the hotel have a personal shopper?” Mom loves using them.
“Yes.” She hands me a business card. “I’ll have her contact your room, but you can call or text the number on the card at your convenience.”
“Thank you.”
With the check-in settled, I follow another man to my room. He shows me around the suite and leaves after getting his tip. I didn’t request an upgraded room, but my last name makes it automatic sometimes.
Exhausted and starving, I stare at the inviting couch near the window that overlooks the city. More than anything I want to flop onto the cushions and order room service. It’s a little after 3 p.m. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and that was only a cup of strawberries, but I need to take care of some things first.
I call the estate, praying Candace doesn’t answer.
To my luck, Zelda’s voice sounds on the phone. After alittle convincing, she gives me Mr. Lopez’s number. I’m not worried about her telling on me, she’s too concerned about keeping her job to tangle herself up in this business.
Mr. Lopez doesn’t answer, so I leave him a message.
“Hi, Mr. Lopez. I’m an old friend of Raphael’s, and I’m trying to reach him, but I don’t have his cell number. Can you please call or text me at this number? It’s important that I speak with him.” And with you to make sure you still have a job. “Thank you.”
I didn’t want to identify myself to him or he might not call me back. He wasn’t happy about the trouble his son and I got into when I was fifteen. I heard my dad gave them both a lecture and multiple threats.
I try the Porsche dealer next. After fifteen minutes, I’m finally transferred to the service station. A man named Joe answers.
“Hi. I’m trying to reach Raphael. Is he available please?”
“He’s in the middle of a brake service. Can I have him call you back?”
