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He’d been keeping up with me as we trudged down the sidewalk, but I stopped abruptly and we almost collided.
“Hold on there, Romeo. I don’t know if we’re gonna get that far.” I looked him up and down. “I mean, maybe? Let’s just see where this goes.”
“That’s fine. Of course,” he said.
We started walking again.
“Do you want to get a hotel room?” he asked. “I’ll pay…”
“Sure, I guess. But a nice one.”
“What about the Chateau?”
I stopped again and this time, Alastair did bump me, but he quickly backed off as I practically went ballistic.
“The Chateau Laurier? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Alastair frowned. “No, I… It’s a nice hotel.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was for real. “You don’t have to spend that much on me.”
The Chateau Laurier was the most renowned hotel in Ottawa. Not the most modern, or even the most expensive, maybe, but it was a classy spot. It was where all the important visitors to our city stayed—MPs, dignitaries, royalty.
“Wait. Are you some kind of prince or, shit, a member of Parliament?”
“God no. I work in tech. But I am friends with the manager. She can get me a room there at a good rate.”
“But we’ll only need it for a handful of hours…” I said, throwing out my arms.
He took out his phone, tapping it with his finger. “It’s fine, Toby. Let me do this. The rooms are spacious, and the place is swanky. It’s a beautiful hotel.” He tapped some more. “I’m getting an Uber.”
Of course, it was a gorgeous hotel. Fuck, yeah, I knewthat—or, I’d heard that. But I’d never stayed there or even gone inside the imposing stone building that served as a backdrop for millions of tourist photos.
“God, now I’m feeling pressure…” I said, putting a hand to my forehead.
“What? No, come on. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I’m happy to just hang out. I swear. It’s totally up to you.”
I eyed him up and down, going over my options. I could insist we go somewhere less expensive, but now that he’d mentioned the Chateau, I kind of wanted to go there. I could say goodnight and give up on this adventure entirely, go home to where my mom was probably in a drunken stupor and wank off in my bed to fantasies of fucking Alastair. Or I could smile and say “Sure, that sounds great.”
I smiled. “Sure, that sounds great.”
“Fantastic! Car’s on its way.” He tapped his finger on the screen of his phone and waited, holding my gaze.
“Fairmont Chateau Laurier, Delphine speaking.” The voice on speaker sounded slightly bored but unfailing in its professionalism.
“Delphi! How’s the hotel business?”
“Alastair Kenney. Jesus. You can’t possibly be calling for a room this late. Fortonight?”
“You’ve never failed me before, Delphi. There must be something I can have.”
Wow.Way to be confronted with Alastair’s man-whore status in a very crucial moment. But I suppose if it got me a room at the Chateau and a night of unrestrained passion, I could deal with it.
“Fine,” Delphine muttered. There was a pause. “There’s a king with a city view. Will that do?”
“Which floor?”
Wow. Picky much?
