Page 57 of The Hotel Manager


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Mason got up early this morning, as always. However, today he actually did leave me a note.Will leave for the fundraiser at six. -M.It’s not much, but it’s better than waking up not knowing anything.

I opted to go downstairs to my own suite. There isn’t much to do here, but it’s not like Mason’s suite is any different. For someone who spends all his time at home, his place really isn’t that homey.

Turning on the TV, I try to take my mind off my reality by watching reality TV. Usually, that works, but not today.

I want to call Ainsley and tell her everything, but my phone doesn’t work here, and if I ask Natalie, she would be here listening to me talk. What a clusterfuck.

Lying down on the couch, I look up at the ceiling, thinking about what Jase said about getting a job I actually like. I also keep thinking about the children’s book I dreamed about writing one day. I haven’t thought about it for years, but now that it has entered my mind again, it won’t leave.

When I was younger, that character lived inside my head for months. I called her Maddie, and I imagined all the adventures she’d go on as an accidental dragon slayer. I even drew pictures of her—just as I imagined her in my head.

The more I try to forget about it, the more I end up thinking about it. It’s like images and voices in my head that won’t leave until I write it down. If I hadn’t experienced it before, I would think I’m going crazy.

Finally, I give in to the urge. Rolling off the couch, I get up and find some paper. There’s a large notepad on the desk, along with pens and pencils. I get to work. I write down everything I remember from before, plus new ideas that pop up. I crudely sketch Maddie on one piece of paper and some side characters on others.

I don’t know how long I work on it, but by the time someone knocks on my door, my stomach growls, demanding food.

Oh crap. I hope it’s not time to leave.

On my way to the door, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like a scarecrow. Maybe I should skip the gala after all.

“Who is it?” I ask through the door.

“It’s me,” Natalie’s cheerful voice filters through, “your fairy godmother getting you ready for the ball.”

I pull the door open, full of excitement and anticipation. Natalie is on the other side, pulling a rolling rack of dresses behind her.

“Holy smokes.” I gasp, stepping aside for her to roll everything in.

“I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I just got one of everything,” she chirps like it’s no big deal.

“I can see that.” My excitement fades, and guilt creeps up my spine. “You know you don’t have to do all of this, right? I’m already staying here without paying, eating for free—”

“Who said any of this was free?”

My jaw drops as panic fills my veins.

“Oh my God, it was a joke!” Natalie says quickly. “You look like you’re about to puke. I’m sorry, it was a bad joke.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have just assumed. I never even offer to pay for anything.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. And if you knew where all of this money came from, you definitely wouldn’t fret it.” She winces at the end of the sentence as if she caught herself saying too much, which is why I’m not pressing the topic further. I do, however, make a mental note of that comment.

“So are you going to let me try on some dresses or what?” At my question, Natalie perks up, a wide smile spreading across her face like I haven’t seen before. She is definitely more excited about this than I am. And I’m pretty damn excited.

“I brought a bunch of different colors, as you can see.” She pulls the rack closer and starts going through each of the dresses. “Honestly, my favorites are these two, but of course, you’re wearing it, so please try on whichever you like!”

She holds up a bordeaux-red halter top gown with a front dip down to what I assume will be my belly button. Although the dress looks stunning, the royal-blue backless gown she holds in her other hand catches my eye immediately.

“The blue one, the blue one!” I clap my hands in excitement at the princess treatment I’m getting. “I’m sorry. I’m so giddy.”

“Oh my God, please don’t apologize!” Natalie waves me off. “I’m thrilled you like this dress, and I can’t wait to see you in it.” She hands it to me, but not before ripping off the price tag, which I’m more than thankful for. I can only imagine what this dress costs. If I knew, I might not even put it on.

I carefully drape it over my arm and take it into the bathroom, where I try it on. It’s backless, so there’s no way I can wear a bra. Luckily, my B-cup boobs don’t need a lot of support.

The dress fits perfectly, almost like it was made for my body. I run my palms down the silky, smooth material as I turn around to look into the full-length mirror.

Christ. This dress is everything. It’s perfect, and I never want to take it off.

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