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“Stop off at the Laurent Hotel, Eric,” Daniel told the driver. “It’s past the young lady’s bedtime.”
I was too tired to let his patronising comment get under my skin.
A few minutes later, we pulled up outside the hotel entrance.
“Rest well, Amelia. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow,” Neil said.
“I will. Want me to take your luggage in as well? I can leave it at reception.”
“Yes. Thank you. Let’s reconvene tomorrow morning.”
Daniel leered at me. “Nighty-night,” he said with a smirk.
I forced a polite reply through gritted teeth. “Good night, Mr. Ling.”
Eric opened the door for me, and I hopped out of the car. A porter was already at my side, ready to whisk me and the luggage through the revolving door and into the hotel lobby. I heard the car drive off as I crossed the threshold, and I spared a thought for Neil, whose night was far from over.
The hotel lobby had a stylish and sophisticated design with black, cream, and gold decor. Two attendants manned the reception desk. I checked in without any issues, then made my way up to my room. I unlocked the door and slipped inside. A comfortable-looking bed awaited me with the cover invitingly turned back. I wanted to dive straight in, but I made myself unpack first so I wouldn’t feel rushed in the morning. I set aside my outfit for the next day in a neatly folded pile, placed my books on the bedside table, my laptop on the desk, and my toiletries in the bathroom.
After a quick shower and a minimal skincare routine, I finally sank into the bed. The time on the digital clock said eleven PM, which was three o’clock in the morning in New Zealand time. No wonder I was so tired. Cocooned by the soft mattress, smooth sheets, and fluffy pillows, I quickly succumbed to a deep sleep, uninterrupted, at least for a while…
At an unknown hour, the door creaked open, jolting me awake.
Chapter Thirty-Six
An intruder entered my room and flicked on the lights. I let out a startled shriek, blinded and disorientated.
“A-Amelia?” The voice was Neil’s, thick with shock and confusion, giving way to a trace of fascination. “What are you doing here? Why are you in my room? My—” He swallowed. “—Bed?”
The bitter smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke hit my nostrils before my vision adjusted. Neil stood at the foot of the bed, his jaw agape at the sight of me. He had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and his hair was in disarray. His clothes were dishevelled—shirt wrinkled and half untucked, collar open, sleeves rolled up. He swayed slightly on his feet. A confronting sight when I was used to him being the picture of composure and control. I didn’t know what to make of it. All I knew was that Daniel must have put him up to this behaviour because it was so out of character.
I sat up straight against the headboard, shaking off my grogginess and blinking clarity into my blurry vision. “This is my room. Why do you have the key?”
Neil peeled his eyes off my body and averted them. That’s when I remembered I was wearing nothing but a thin white tank top and boy shorts. I hastily pulled the blankets up to cover myself.
“I checked in, and this is the room they gave me,” Neil explained. “Did you book only one room?”
“Of course not! I don’t know what happened.”
Neil paced, rubbing his temples. “Okay, okay. I’ll sort this out. Just give me one minute. Ugh.” He clutched his stomach.
“Are you all right?”
A pallor came over him. “Excuse me.”
He slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. The muffled sound of retching seeped through the wall. I steeled myself against second-hand queasiness, feeling sorry for him at the same time.
After several minutes, I heard the toilet flush, then the tap run. Neil emerged, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have to see me like this. You, of all people… I’m a mess.” Self-loathing laced his voice.
I shook my head, trying to downplay the situation. “It’s no big deal. You’ve also seen me drunk. We can call it even.”
He scanned my face like he didn’t know what to fixate on, then his shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re… sweet.”
“Sweet?” I blushed, remembering how I had also called him sweet when I was drunk. If he hugged me now, we’d both be as bad as each other.
Neil winced. “I mean, er, I’ll just go downstairs and sort out—” Another stomach clutch. He looked like he might be sick again.
I practically launched myself out of bed. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll do it.”
