He turns his face to me before I can look away, and when I meet his brown eyes, he cocks an eyebrow.
Irritation swells in me.
I glance at the bellhop. “I’m ready to go upstairs. Thank you for your patience.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He escorts me up the private elevator and leaves my bags in a suite that is twice the size of my apartment and a thousand times nicer. The fixtures are all marble, gold and crystal, with Christmas decorations throughout.
Ugh. Who decorates a hotel suite for Christmas? I poke my head into room after tinsel-strewn room, almost tempted to throw the decorations in the trash. There’s a grand piano in the living room! And I say “living room” to distinguish it from the family room, where the TV is.
There are Christmas trees in both.
My word.
I find the gift the clerk mentioned on the dining room table near my itinerary for the meetings. It’s ornately wrapped in gold ribbon and matching wrapping paper with a note.
If anyone messes with you, I’ll have Nate buy the baseball team.
XO,
Jules
I roll my eyes but laugh when I open the box and pull out a Stanley mug in the gray, blue, and red of my team. In the team’s classic-inspired font, there’s a customized message:
Lady in the streets, geek in the spreadsheets.
I snap a picture and send it to Juliet with a text.
LIESEL
Really?
JULIET
Just helping you project your best image to the team. You’ll thank me later.
LIESEL
Oh, I’ll project something, all right.
JULIET
Are you going to use it?
LIESEL
Of course I am! It’s hilarious and weirdly on brand.
You guys were nice to upgrade me, btw. Have you stayed in an Owner’s Suite before? This thing is insane.
JULIET
I know! Nate showed me the pictures. Opulent much?
LIESEL
Tell him I’m disappointed it doesn’t have its own gym. I’m going to have to use the resort’s fitness center like some common investment banker.
