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“We don’t have rooms,” I tell her in a low voice. “We have the best suite in the building.”
Before Josie can reply to my cryptic answer, a loud clicking of high heels greets us. It seems that Evelyn is back. She hasn’t stopped moving since we disembarked from the plane. She’s always stressed about something, that woman. That’s why I hired her – I need someone to be my stress.
She’s just been speaking with the hotel staff – arranging the accommodation for us.
“Here,” my publicist grandly announces when she reaches us, flashing a pair of keycards in front of Josie and my noses. “You have the top suite, Victor.”
“Of course I do.”
Josie eyes the keycards suspiciously. And then she turns her cannons onto me.
“We’re in the best suite of the hotel?” she asks. “The best suite in this incredible, five-star hotel? You are simply dripping in opulence, aren’t you, Victor?”
I don’t match her awestruck energy. Instead, I simply lean down toward her pretty little face and I whisper in her ear...
“We’re sleeping in the same bed, Josie. Together. Come, let’s head up there and see what the best suite in this building is like.”
And I follow Evelyn to the VIP elevator before Josie dares open her mouth to protest.
The suite is gorgeous, but it’s standard for me. I’ve slept in a hundred such suites all over the world. Sure, this one has its Italian charm, but it isn’t anything different from a nice suite in New York or Sydney.
But for Josie?
She goes wild the moment our private elevator reaches the top level.
“Holy crap,” she mutters over and over and over again as she explores the many rooms available to us on our own private top level of the hotel. “Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap.”
“You like it?” I ask her sarcastically as she dashes off to the main bedroom and throws herself onto the soft bed with squealing delight.
She spins around and faces me.
“Victor. Like is an understatement when it comes to this suite.”
It’s nice to see someone actually excited about staying in a suite – most girls I bring to hotel rooms pretend not to give a fuck about the level of luxury I dwell in, but not Josie.
She’s normal, that’s why. A normal person with a perfectly normal reaction to an elite hotel room.
“This is too much,” she whispers from the bed. “I don’t know how I’m going to help you pay for all this...”
I wave my hand.
“It’s all covered by me. No need to even think about it.”
“Victor...”
I cut her protest short.
“It is nothing to me. The cost truly is nothing. I have more money than to spend in a hundred lifetimes, and this new movie is going to add a few more lifetimes to that mix. Trust me.”
“If I didn’t know you, I would think you were trying to subtly brag,” Josie remarks.
“You have a shower,” I say, slowly shutting the door. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Okay, movie star. Sounds like a plan.”
When she finally emerges from her shower in the ensuite, I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from her. She just looks so goddamn... cute with her brown eyes and curly brown hair. Adorable and pretty.
What is happening to you, Victor? Are you fucking smitten?
