Mathilda
Immediately after we arrive at Intercontinental Le Moana Bora Bora Resort, the hotelier greets Cahill with respect, almost bowing. Her gaze is still glued to him as she bats her fake eyelashes, snapping her fingers to signal the porters to come out.
They start emerging and carry our bags from Xavier.
"You're very much welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Nolan, my name is Francesa and I guarantee you wouldn't regret your visit here," she says walking fast in front of us, making sure her heels and clicking on the floor professionally.
Her eyes continually do a once over at Cahill, while he stays mute with his lips in a purse.
The hotelier or I should say Francesa, has her straightened blonde hair pulled up in a bun so tight, that I wonder if her scalp doesn't hurt. Although it brings more of her facial features, I am the one feeling uncomfortable for her. She's wearing executive business suit pants with heels. Her appearance spells classy and bold like an Amazonian woman. She's approximately 5'10 feet tall. Something about her reminds me of my sister. Her hair and height. And I wonder if Cahill thinks of her as the same. He appears to be a bit interested in her, or maybe I am the one imagining it because he seems to hold her gaze more than normal.
It kind of makes me feel unsettled, although I have no idea why.
"This is Xavier whom you've already met. He's one of our employees who will be your tour guide. Fluent in French, Tahiti, and English, so you won't have any trouble finding your way around." She introduces, and Xavier waves with a smug smile.
"Aren't we there already?" Cahill's voice reverberates on the walls as he makes this demand, putting a halt to everything. Including the servants who are walking ahead of us. It's not even five minutes after our arrival.
"No, Mr. No…Alpha Cahill," Francesa corrects herself. "You made reservations for a superior room here, maybe it's taking a bit too long to get there. But be rest assured we'd-"
"Fine," Cahill interrupts her, tucking his hands in his pockets. And they lock gazes for some time, before she resumes walking, leading the way this time.
Wait a minute, is there some sort of sudden spark between the two? Does Cahill have a thing for tall women? There's a bit of insecurity cascading through me because I'm 5'4, which is considered more feminine to some men. Brandon precisely. He said I make him appear taller and his instincts always kick in to protect me.
"Mrs. Nolan, I…" Francesa is slapping her palms together as she turns around, then her mouth closed as she allows her eyes to meet me for the first time.
Her gaze immediately gets icy with disdain as it sweeps over me from the crown of my head to the sole of my feet.
"You're Mrs. Nolan?" She asks in complete disbelief as if Cahill isn't here. I wouldn't blame her though, she was too occupied admiring my husband to even notice me. But she addressed us as Mr. and Mrs. Nolan a few minutes ago. Or is this a deliberate act in the form of mockery?
"Mrs. Nolan?" Her irritating silvery voice averts me from my thoughts.
"Yes, that's me," I murmur with a slight shoulder shrug.
She blinks and I can swear I hear her muttering the word 'unbelievable' under her breath.
I'm wearing a strapless beige gown, stopping a few inches on my mid-thigh and three inches heel, with my red hair pulled up in a ponytail.
For a moment, Francesa stares at me as if I'm one with a plague. And I'm not surprised though, because I don't deem it fit to be the wife of someone with a reputable position like Alpha Cahill. Genova would've been the perfect match.
"What do you want to make known to my wife?" Cahill suddenly speaks up, breaking the moment of awkwardness as he comes to stand beside me, placing his hand on the small of my back. And I can feel the heat on his palm, despite the fabric I have on.
On hearing this, Francesa immediately straightens and maintains a completely different attitude.
"I wanted to say the hotel provides a one-of-a-kind experience to the romantic types with personalized dinners on the sunsets and cruise tours, mostly honey-mooners. So you can dress as exotically and elegantly as you want," she rewards me with a fake smile, earning a curt nod from me in return.
I'm glad Cahill spoke up for me because this Francesa lady seems kind of mean and doesn't bother to hide her dislike towards me. She's like a switch being turned on and off. On, when she puts on a fake sweet facial expression as she talks to Cahill, and off, when she directs her attention to me, showing her actual colors.
Finally, we're ushered into our room.
It's a superior room with traditional wooden types of furniture and timber floors, which creates a warm, welcoming ambiance and wide sliding glass doors that allow in plenty of natural light.
On the glass table lies a newspaper, welcome gifts, and a basket of fruit varieties.
There's a comfortable king-size bed, a spacious walk-in closet, an additional work area with free internet access, and a large marble bathroom with a separate shower and bathtub, bathrobe, and slippers.
Xavier slides a glass door open, and it's a balcony with bamboo wooden chairs and a table, and the balcony leads to a superior garden and lagoon room.
My mouth parts because I am enticed by its state of serenity, grace, and uniqueness. It's such a breathtaking sight to behold. All my life, I never had mental images of myself in an expensive tranquilized place. It would've been better if it were I and Brandon here. I'm sure Cahill too is having thoughts about Genova because he made this special reservation for the both of them.
"We'll ensure to provide everything upon your request, the daily newspaper at your door, and traditional Tahiti wine. We don't want you to lack anything." Francesa says more to my husband than me.
Cahill goes to stand at the entrance of the balcony, with his hands akimbo as he surveys the place. I cannot see his facial expression right now but what I do know is that he's in a sour mood as usual.
"Is there anything you'd like?" Francesa inquires, cocking her head in Cahill's direction with her hands clamped together like an obedient servant.
"Yes," Cahill responds but he doesn't make any move of turning around or casting her a glance through his shoulder. "I'd like you to leave," he dismisses flippantly.
Hearing this, I fake a snort through a chuckle and I can see Francesa's face dispersing into a slight frown. Serves her darn right.
"Oh, as you wish." She replies then casts one last frigid glance in my direction as if it's my fault Cahill spoke to her in that manner, then she turns to leave with the rest of the workers. And I very nearly sigh in relief.
Xavier is the last to leave, not before winking at me. Something which I find a bit off. Did he just do that because Cahill isn't looking?