Page 7 of Cocky Tech God
“I do not think this is funny.” Hansen didn’t hide his amusement for my benefit.
I stared out the glass balcony doors, the view of the beach lined with white umbrellas was my focal point. At the bar earlier, I’d wanted to get out of my pantsuit, still did, but not anymore, even though the room was suddenly suffocatingly hot.
“Look…” His voice sliced through the room. “Let’s just call the front desk and sort this out, okay? I’m sure it was an oversight, and you can get your right room number.”
“Really? What makes you think this was meant to be your room and not mine?” I turned from the perfect view to face him.
“Because I asked for a room with a view. And this is it.”
I crossed my arms, not a smile on my face. Flirting time was over, and he was about to see the annoyed side of me. Not many people saw me annoyed because I always kept things light, even in stressful situations. It was something I had learned from my last relationship, which was one reason why I intended to stay single and ready to mingle.
Hansen walked over to me, his palms cupping my shoulders upon approach. I sucked in a sharp breath the second he touched me. The annoyed me didn’t want him touching me; however, the annoyed me still knew that the fun me could easily take over.
His eyes softened. “I’m not trying to be a jerk. But you’re more than welcome to stay in my room if you don’t like your view.”
I shoved him away and strode to the writing desk. “We are going to fix this right now.”
I lifted the phone receiver and punched the button indicating the front desk, glaring at him until the receptionist answered in a sing-songy voice that made me want to combust.
“Hi, yes, I’m Lucia Mendez in room 811.”
“Good evening, Miss Mendez. How can I help you?”
My eyes swung back to the phone, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging perfectly above the desk. I looked like I’d been tumbling in a washing machine and hung out to dry. Makeup worn off. Curly hair wild with the humidity. The elevens creased between my eyebrows were deeper than ever.
It had been a long flight, and an even longer day.
“Yes…there has been a mix up. I booked a king standard room a month ago for the World Tech Conference for one occupant.” The zip of fabric sliding on fabric caught my attention. I averted my eyes to the sound. Hansen had slipped onto the comforter, reclining in a supine position as if this were his room. I frowned and continued, “But there is another…person…who also has this same room.”
Hansen waggled his eyebrows. Ass.
“I’m so sorry to hear this. Give me one moment to bring up your reservations.” She paused, clicks of the keyboard sounding off in light speed. “Oh…”
What oh? I held my breath.
“It seems room eight eleven has been assigned to a Mr. Hansen Holte as well.”
Her words played over in my mind. Each time, I refused to believe it. Until I did.
“Can you unassign Mr. Hansen Holte from this room?” I would not give up the beautiful ocean view to him.
“Okay. Let me see what I can do.” Again, the clicks sounded off through the receiver for far too long. “I regret to inform you that we have no rooms available at this time. We are at full capacity due to the conference and it being peak season.”
I stopped listening at ‘I regret to inform you’. I dropped the phone to my chest and held it there for a moment. The blood rushed like rapids between my ears. Think, Lucia.
“What’s wrong?” Hansen whispered loudly.
I ignored him.
In a calm voice that I struggled to find and maintain, I asked with a bit of a bite, “And how will the hotel rectify this mistake?”
Hansen’s touch startled me. He mouthed, “What?”
In a low whisper, I said to him, “You’re sleeping in the linen closet.”
“I can put you and Mr. Holt on the waiting list.”
“Okay. That’s fine, but it doesn’t help me now. How can you help me now?” My face was hot enough to light a cigarette, and if Hansen didn’t step away from me, he’d get burned.