“This is Marley Jacobs. There’s a hold due to an extended stay with guests in the room she had reserved.”
“I see,” Sabrina says, her lips twisting in frustration. Her eyes shift from side to side as she studies the screen.
“How long is the delay?” Othello asks.
“Right now, it looks as if they have the room until Wednesday. But I am looking to see if we have another room available,” Sabrina instructs, taking over as Kenzo stands to the side.
The fact that Othello is still standing behind me, practically breathing down my neck, is giving me a major fever. I feel the heat of frustration pulsing through every nerve. I keep my eyes on Sabrina as her brows furrow, eyes focused, while I clinch the strap of my weekender bag as if it’s the only thing holding me together.
I mumble a silent prayer under my breath that only I can hear, but I can smell Othello and feel his presence. I’msuffocating in it. I need space. I need himfaraway from me. Out of my sight. Out of my mind.
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell him.
“I’m not leaving until they have a room for you.”
I suck my teeth.
“Are the two of you rooming together?” Sabrina probes, looking up from the screen.
“No,” we say at the same time. We look at each other. Our eyes connect, and I am putty again. Complete putty. Why is he so strikingly handsome?
Sabrina’s eyes dart between the two of us. Probably sensing the tension between him and me. Me, straining to keep my composure because I’m pissed off to the highest level of pisstivity and Othello…looking as if he’s in mourning and he lost his best friend.
Sabrina apologizes and then glances back at the screen. Her face drops, and the sigh spilling from her mouth does not give me hope.
“Unfortunately…” she starts. And it is at that moment that I almost let out a blood-curdling scream.
Unfortunately. Unfortunately?! If I hear that one more time!
“…at the moment, we don’t have any other rooms available on the property.”
My stomach drops. “None?Nothing?”
“We’re completely booked due to a wedding event,” she explains gently. “However, we can arrange a luxury suite for you at our sister resort, The Wailani, nearby, and have transportation ready within the hour.”
I close my eyes briefly, exhaustion washing over me. The last thing I want is to relocate. And what is this sister resort? What are the ratings? Would they meet my standards?
Before I can respond, Othello speaks up.
“Can you check my room? It should be under the Sterling wedding block. Othello Kingston.”
Sabrina nods eagerly, looking painfully upset about this horrible dilemma. “Of course.” She types quickly, scanning the screen. “Yes, Mr. Kingston. Your suite is confirmed and ready.”
I roll my eyes so hard I have to blink them back into place. Of course, his room would be ready.
What were the fucking odds?
I can feel Othello’s brown eyes staring at me, my cheeks burning like a hot furnace. I already know what he’s going to say before he says it, and I shake my head violently.
“How far is the drive to Wailani?” I ask Sabrina.
Her mouth falls open to speak, but Othello cuts her off.
“Marley, please,” he begs. “Let me make it up to you.”
“How?” I snap, so appalled I can hardly stand it. “By staying in a room with you?”
“Yes. It’s a start,” he answers. “You can stay with me. It’s a one-bedroom suite, but I can sleep on the couch.”
