Page 20 of Manhattan Kiss

I finish off his room as quickly as I can and then slip out, on to the next one. I’m enjoying myself. It reminds me of being nineteen and home from university for the summer. I had so much hope and expectation about how my life was going to turn out. Between me and Darcy, I always assumed I’d get married first. I was definitely the romantic out of the two of us. Maybe if I hadn’t wasted those years pining after her brother…

I still cringe at my childhood crush on Ryder. I thought I was in love with him. It was just a silly infatuation, because we’d grown up in each other’s lives. I just assumed somehow we were meant to be together. It was silly, but despite that, there hasn’t been anyone else since who I can see a life with.

I finish the rooms I’ve been allocated quickly and I make my way back down to where housekeeping is based, to see what else I can help with.

As I arrive, the head of housekeeping is putting down the phone. “Aurora, you said you wanted to walk the hotel as much as possible, didn’t you? I’ve just had an extra towels request, do you mind taking them up?”

It’s a bit of a weird dynamic because when I take the reins as director of rooms, I’ll be her boss, and she knows that. But for now, I’m a member of her team.

“No problem,” I reply. I really feel like I’m learning the layout of things and this will only help.

“Great. Four hand towels to Room 325.”

My stomach lurches. “Room 325?” I repeat, checking with her. Maybe I’m imagining it. I have too much of my brain occupied by Deacon Black.

“Yup. He’s an important repeat guest, so as quick as you can. Or I can send Isha if you pre⁠—”

“No, I’ve got it.” I don’t want the housekeeper to think I’m avoiding work. Housekeeping have the hardest, least-rewarded jobs in the hotel. They deserve respect, and I want the housekeeper to understand that I know how important she and her team are.

I grab the towels and head back upstairs. Despite my crush, having to see Deacon Black is the last thing I wanted to do today.

It only takes a few minutes to get to his door. I pull back my shoulders. I just need to get this over with. I’m in the housekeeping uniform. He might not even recognize me. Here’s hoping.

I knock on the door.

He answers almost immediately, with such force that I feel my heels leave the floor in a half jump.

“It’s you,” he snaps.

“Your towels, Mr. Black.” I thrust the stack at him.

“I’m sorry I spilled coffee on you,” he says.

It’s such a shock that I gasp. It was the exact last thing I was expecting him to say.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I was an arsehole. I’m truly sorry. I want to pay for the dry cleaning.”

My heart starts to thump in my chest when he says the word sorry again. I don’t know why but it feels…familiar somehow. It’s the kind of apology that would come from a parent or a lover. The kind that’s heartfelt and meaningful.

I shake my head. “That’s very kind of you, but I got the stain out.”

“You’ve moved to housekeeping?”

What’s happening? Are we small-talking now? “I’m training in all departments before I start my new role next week.”

He nods slowly. His gaze darts from my eyes to my mouth, then trails lazily down my body and back up to my eyes. His stare is intense. Hot. My nipples pebble and my skin tightens. I lift my chin slightly, almost as if I can feel his eyes on me physically…and I’m wanting to display more of myself.

The seconds are ticking by. There’s no reason to still be standing here. I need to hand him the towels so I can go. But it’s like I’m rooted to the spot.

“Anything else I can get you, sir?” I ask eventually.

He continues to stare at me, and for some reason I can’t explain, I can’t look away.

He tilts his head slightly, and again, the gesture feels familiar. Like we’re two friends talking in a hotel corridor rather than perfect strangers.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice rough and deep.