Page 19 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

Become a mom.

Show my family the world.

I close it, suddenly feeling like by opening it, by reading it, I’ve taken something that doesn’t belong to me.

I should take it downstairs. Have the front desk hold it for her. She’ll realize it’s missing, call the hotel and get it back without either of us ever needing to know who the other one was.

Simple.

Except I don’t move.

My eyes drop to the little burgundy book again, and for some reason I find myself thinking about number seventeen.

Wear a bikini. Not hate it.

After what I watched her do in front of that mirror, that one makes more sense than I want it to.

Then eighteen.

Have sex under the stars.

I huff out a laugh.

That one I could help with.

I wrap the string back around the book and set it on the dresser instead of taking it downstairs.

I’ll deal with it later.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Chapter 6

Scarlett

The Sapphire Keys Resort: Where Luxury Bales

Unpopular opinion:

Luxury resorts are overrated, overpriced, and overhyped.

If I had to guess, I’ve lost half of you by now. For the remaining half, you know what I’m talking about.

This is an honest review from a seasoned travel writer who has had the opportunity to stay at the Sapphire anonymously. I was blessed to indulge in every “luxury” that the Sapphire Keys had to offer.

Every room is a suite.

Not one or two but five different pools, and that’s not including the adults-only saltwater hot tub, complete with its own bar.

Sandy beaches are only a stone’s throw away.

Five-star restaurants serving imported caviar, meats, and seafood.

Unfortunately for the luxury hospitality industry, it’s run by men with fat wallets and not a pair of swim trunks in sight. True luxury and the resort experience cannot be defined by marble floors or bamboo walls, or perfectly cooked Wagyu. It’s in the details. Details focused on the actual needs and desires of its patrons. After all, most of us normies max out credit cards for a little getaway at places like this. We don’t willingly go into high-interest debt only to have the bath towels be too small for the average human body.

But it wasn’t just the towels at the Sapphire that fell short of my high expectations. Expectations set by Bale itself. Expectations that fall short of what’s promised because the CEO is probably too busy focusing on logistics and sales to notice the things guests actually care about. Burnt coffee in the lounge. Bartenders who never smile. Lipstick smudges on a “clean” wineglass.

In my personal experience, and as someone who does this for a living, trust me, I have a lot of experience; Bale could do better. The towels were small, the A/C did little to cut the summer heat (probably time for an update on those units), and the glassware was dirty.