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I don’t have any contact information for him. In a fit of frustration, I ripped and threw away the business card he gave me a while back. The number he texted me from when we first met is no longer in service. I doubt the hotel will put me straight through to one of the owners, so I can’t even reach out and tell him to calm down because nothing is going on between me and Fred.
I try to move past it, spending the rest of the night taking a hot shower, making some dinner, and then lounging on the couch while I watch mindless reality television and scroll through every social media app I have.
I don’t think about Vicente again until I’m at work the next morning and my boss hands me a manila envelope.
Those types of envelopes never bring anything good.
Before I clock in, I find a private space and open it up. Inside are photos of me and Fred laughing at the slot machines, clinking our glasses together at the bar, and me grabbing his arm as I attempted to pull him along outside.
This is from Vicente. From the security cameras.
“Hey.”
I jump when Penelope comes around the corner. “Oh. Hey.”
“You okay?” she questions.
“Yeah.”
I slide the photos back in the envelope before folding it in half and sticking it in my purse. For my entire shift, I keep an eye on the door, waiting for him to walk in. He can find me easily here, and I’m surprised he hasn’t used his influence as the owner to force his way in and drag me out.
What was the purpose of sending me photos? Just to ensure I knew he saw me? Granted, the photos don’t look the best. It definitely appears like we’re on a date and having a good time.
In order to keep myself from worrying, wondering, and expecting the worst, I decide I should look for him. Let’s just get this over with.
After I get off, I go straight to the front desk and ask the woman there if she can get in touch with Vicente for me. She gives me an incredulous look before saying she’s sure he isn’t available.
As expected, I take that loss and move on. I hit the elevators and make my way to the floor that held the meeting room where he had me wait for him. It’s a long shot but I don’t know where else I’d be able to find him.
While I’m peeking through the window, trying to get a view through the blinds, heavy footsteps on the opposite end of the hall get my attention, as well as a familiar frustrated voice. I quickly slip inside the room to hide before they round the corner.
“It’s bullshit. He’s pissed. To be celebrating the Alberto thing only to be interrupted with that?” Tommy says. “I hope she has a good hiding spot.”
“You think she knows?” another voice asks—one I’m not too familiar with.
They’re in front of the room now, the rustling of their clothes louder than before. My hands are pressed against the door, hoping like hell they don’t need to come in here. It’s not like I’d be able to keep them out, but I stick closely to the door, my ear touching the wood.
“I’d fucking hope she doesn’t.”
“I always thought sh…”
They’re voices trail off as they move farther away, and I force myself not to move, hardly even breathing as they continue down the hall. It’s only until I hear the ding of the elevator, plus another ten seconds that I step away and chance a glance out the window.
Am I theshethey were referring to? I interrupted a celebration by being in the casino with a guy? If anything, he interrupted his own evening by being upset over nothing.
Slowly, I turn the handle and open the door, confident they’re long gone. When I step into the hall, I’m face-to-face with the man I was searching for. The man I’m no longer sure I want to see.
“Hello,princesa.”
ChapterThirty
Ifreeze in place, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Are you looking for me?” he asks, leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets.
“No,” I say immediately. “Well, yes.”
He smirks. “Which is it?”
