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I dial the concierge on a whim.
“Mr. Bentley, how may I assist you?”
“Please send a dozen red roses to Ariana Michaels in suite five zero four.”
“Certainly sir. Did you wish to leave a note?”
I ponder that for a moment.
“Yes, let it read: I’d like to see you again.”
“Will we let her know who the flowers are from, sir?”
“Add Mr. B at the bottom, please.”
“Very good, sir.”
I hang up.
Then I dial him back.
“Mr. Bentley?”
“I need the retail manager, or a woman in that department.”
“Very good, sir. Connecting you now.”
He connects me, and a few moments later, a woman’s voice greets me on the other end of the phone.
“Good evening, Mr. Bentley, how can I assist you?”
“I’d like to order a lingerie set, the very best you have, elegant but sexy.”
“La Perla, sir?”
“Excellent.”
“What cup size?”
I think for a second. “D cup, I think.”
“And brief size?”
“About a six.”
“Any color in particular, Mr. Bentley?”
I think about her skin tone, and how good she looked in that white bikini.
“White and see-through.”
“Excellent choice. I’ll have it to your room within the hour.”
I hang up wondering what the fuck I’m doing.
I can’t deliver it to her room because then her friends will want to see what’s inside, so I can only hope she’ll like the flowers and realize I’m not trying to be a fucking prick.
I like her.
