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"Well, I gotta get back and oversee the cleanup," I hurry to say.
"See you at pool tomorrow." Charlotte waves.
I don't look over my shoulder as I walk back towards the hall. I don't need to to know their eyes are on me. When I get into the kitchen, Heather tells me she tried to call me to let me know everything was going fine, but only got my voicemail. I look down at my phone to see it died sometime while I was on the beach. But I still stick around for a while, giving Ezekiel and Jeremiah plenty of time to get to their rooms, and leaving no chance for me to run into them anymore tonight. I just want to sit as far away from them at lunch by the pool tomorrow, and fly home. Sophie and Law are using the private jet to get to their honeymoon, so at least I won't have to worry about that part again.
Forty-five minutes later, I grab my purse before thanking everyone for their hard work and saying goodnight to Heather. I ride up to the twelfth floor, letting my head fall back, more than ready to get out of these heels and this dress. Ready to take each and every pin out of my hair and let it down from this too-tight bun. Ready to have some time away from a room full of whatever crazy energy Ezekiel and Jeremiah emit that makes me aware of them at all times.
The elevator doors open, and my heels make a quiet thud with each footstep down the hallway. I reach my room, and I refuse to allow myself to look towards their door, as if they'll be looking through the peephole at this exact moment to catch me glancing their way. I can hear them though, as I search through my purse for my room card. Jeremiah tells Ezekiel to leave the TV on the channel he's watching. Ezekiel replies to fuck off because he's not watching some show about screwed up families all night. I shake my head while looking down at my purse, since I wasn't able to find my card with just my hand.
There's not much in my bag, my dead phone, lipstick, and my slim wallet. So, it doesn't take me very long to realize my room card isn't in here.
"No, no, no,no," I murmur again and again as I search my purse again, knowing the card isn't in there.
I even open my wallet, knowing I didn't put my room card in there. And, surprise, surprise, it's not in there either. I bring my forehead to the door.
"You've got to be kidding me," I say as I close my eyes.
I go over my options, and quickly realize they're very limited. With my phone dead, I'll have to go to someone's room to use their phone to call the front desk, or go back down to the lobby. Sophie and Law's room is absolutely out of the question. Charlotte and Jackson have Shawn, and I don't really want to risk waking him up if he's sleeping or interrupt them. That just leaves—
I open my eyes and turn my head to look over my shoulder at their door.
"No way in hell."
I begin marching back down the hallway to the elevator. A quick ride down to the lobby, and I’m at the front desk, explaining the situation to them.
"No problem. Do you have ID? We can match your name with your room and get you a replacement card."
I release a relieved breath and get my wallet out.
"Room number?" he asks as he takes my ID from me.
"1210."
He looks back and forth between my ID and the screen.
"Um, it says the room is registered under a different name."
"What?" I exclaim.
"Are you sure that's the correct room number?"
"Of course, I'm su—" Then, it hits me. "The room is under Law's name," I murmur more to myself than him. "It's under Lawson Kane, right?"
"I'm sorry, I can't give you that information."
"He's the groom whose wedding I'm here for. He booked the rooms for everyone in the wedding party. That's why it says his name, but I assure you, it's my room."
He gives me an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, but if the names don't match, I can't give you a room card. I could call the name on the room and ask if he'll permit you to receive a replacement card."
I give him an exasperated look. "Call a man on his wedding night to ask him that? Yeah, that's what he wants to hear right now."
I pinch the bridge of my nose to look away from his dumb stare. I know there's nothing more he can do, but it still pisses me off. Mostly because I know what option it leaves me with. Charlotte and Jackson's room, or Ezekiel and Jeremiah's room.
"Fuck," I curse through clenched teeth.
He clears his throat. "Excuse me, ma'am?"
“Can I just book another room?” I ask instead of repeating my curse.
His apologetic smile tells me his answer before he speaks. “Every room is booked.”
Of course, because Law booked the entire resort for the wedding, for both privacy and comfort of the guests. But I get the feeling that telling the still smiling man before me that I actually made those arrangements won’t help me any.
I take a deep breath before saying, "Thanks. Have a good night."
But then the curses are flowing from my lips again as I walk back to the elevator. I even punch the wall, knowing whoever is watching the camera is probably thinking I've lost my mind. When I reach the twelfth floor and get closer to my room, I seriously ask myself if sleeping in the hallway would be so bad. But my aching feet, quickly growing headache, and want for a bed have me turning to face away from my door to look at theirs.
I have to inhale and release a deep breath before raising my hand. Curling my fingers into a fist, I knock twice.
