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She’s a credit to her profession, an asset to this company, and I...
I fucked up.
But I will not let this fester for another day.
I step off the elevator onto the fourteenth floor with a keycard in my hand, a book in the other, and a purpose in my step.
While I’m perfectly happy in a basic suite on the second floor, Paige takes the room upgrades offered to the Liaison; one of the many perks of her job. I suppose being twelve floors away from me also has its perks at the moment.
But I’m not a man who likes to be ignored for very long.
I open room 1404 and step inside.
The room is quiet. No television. No music. For a moment, I think she’s stepped out, but my ears perk to the sounds of the shower running behind the bathroom door.
Oh, I shouldn’t, but...
I smirk.
As I walk toward the chair by the window to make myself comfortable, I notice her suitcase lying open on the bed. Her clothing is meticulously folded, or rolled depending on the type, and nestled perfectly together in what I assume is Paige’s own special system of wardrobe organization. Best not to disturb it.
I lean over it anyway, far too curious about the satin travel bag resting on top. Lavender-colored. Draw-string. The obvious shape of an item hidden inside of above-average length and... girth.
My smirk grows.
Good girl.
The shower turns off. I step away from the suitcase and settle on the chair with the book in my lap. As I wait, I run my fingers along its rugged spine. I listen to the shuffling towel on wet skin on the other side of the door. I realize that she won’t react well to me letting myself in like this, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take for friendship.
The door slides open. Paige steps out, her chest obscured by a towel tightly wrapped around her torso. She uses another towel to blot her damp hair, partially covering her face and hiding my presence for one last moment until?—
“Hi, Paige!” I greet with a smile.
“Fuck, Oliver!” She slaps her hands to her chest to hold her towel in place. “What are you doing in here?!”
“I let myself in.”
“How?”
“The same way you do.” I hold up my keycard. “Hey, did you know that I can wander behind the desk of any Botsford Plaza in the world and the staff will let me do... whatever I want? No questions asked? It’s pretty cool.”
Paige sighs, her cheeks red as roses. “What do you want, Oliver?” she asks.
“I wanted to give you this,” I say as I grab the book from my lap. “I could only find it used, so I hope you don’t mind.”
I extend it out to her. Paige hesitates for a moment until the bookworm in her nudges her forward to take it.
“The Blind Mask,” she reads aloud, “by J.P. Holwood.”
“I totally get it if you want to abandon the series, but if you liked the maid in the first one, you’ll love this,” I say. “She really takes the spotlight here.”
Paige nods. “I’ll think about it,” she says before setting it down on the table. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She clings to her towel again as she shifts backward toward the bed. Her eyes drift to her suitcase, then she stiffens before performing a quick, casual lunge forward to fold it closed.
I pretend not to notice. “I see you don’t air dry,” I say over the tension.
