The hotel room wasn't part of the original deal. So when Smith Mason's driver arrived to pick me up on Friday afternoon to bring me to the five-star South Beach Spa and Resort, anger raced through my veins. I gave in to a kiss last week, but that didn't mean I was ready to roll around in white silk hotel sheets.
The driver extended the keycard toward me as if that would make me change my mind. Did Smith think I was an idiot? As if he could just fork over $10,000 and I'd open my legs for him? "No hotel," I asserted.
He tightened his lips. "Mr. Mason gave specific instructions for you to wait in the room so you could attend the event together."
"Why can't we do it like
The hotel room wasn't originally included in the agreement. Therefore, I was furious when Smith Mason's driver came to pick me up on Friday afternoon to take me to the five-star South Beach Spa and Resort. Last week, I consented to a kiss, but that didn't imply I was prepared to roll about on white hotel sheets made of silk.
The driver held out the keycard as if to convince me to reconsider. Did Smith believe I was a fool? As if he only needed to pay me $10,000, and I'd extend my legs to him. "No hotel," I firmly stated.
He pouted more firmly. You were instructed specifically by Mr. Mason to wait in the room so that you could all attend the event together.
"Why can't we perform it as we did previously? Nobody will catch on that we aren't actually together. I was merely a hired escort in his eyes. For the duration of the evening, he could do whatever he pleased with me as long as it stayed within the limits.
While holding the door open, the chauffeur cocked his head to the side. He appeared perplexed. You two aren't together?
I bit my lip and froze in the backseat of the limo. Was the escort arrangement unknown to the driver? Smith, did he also keep it a secret from him? I took a deep breath in and vowed not to tell the truth. "We are a unit. I meant that no one should be aware that we only met last week. We'll ride together to the event if you take me to his apartment.
Did he accept my defense? According to the skeptical look on his face, most likely not. I had a problem. How could I tell a worker that his boss kissed me last week in violation of the terms of our contract? Not just a simple kiss on the lips, either. I was shaken by the intense, hungry, lip-locking kiss, which made me reevaluate the entire deal.
The driver's lips were tightly pursed. "Miss Davis, I'm afraid I can't."
My temples began to hurt as well as the base of my neck. He just needed to get the car back and drive me to Smith's place. He was a chauffeur, and all I asked him to do was drive us to the auction, pick up Smith. How challenging could it be? I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Why?"
The driver's vision grew dim. Mr. Mason is already present, so.
I bit back a gasp as my mouth snapped shut. The Florida sun was reflected by the glassy high-rise. Was he there, observing me? Perhaps laughing at the fool on the sidewalk through the darkly tinted window?
I felt bad in my heart for taking the $10,000. I agreed to let him buy me from him.
My cheeks started to tingle as it rose up from the back of my neck. Smith was probably fidgeting inside the room, in my imagination. Was I crazy to cause a scene as one of the most important men in the world waited in a suite at a five-star hotel? The driver undoubtedly believed I was an imbecile.
Even though Mr. Mason wasn't a rock star, he nevertheless had fans. At the previous event, women had nearly flung themselves at him. I know this because, despite having no interest in the man, I wanted to whack them off with a stick. Everything was a performance. If I hadn't shown a little envy, would others have believed that we were a real couple? Without a doubt. I had to assume the role. In addition, he just wasn't my type. In any case, it was foolish of me to request the change of schedule. He was a billionaire, he had bought my time, and as long as he didn't get too sexy, he had me for the night. I looked carefree as I walked my apprehensive feet onto the paved walkway. Why didn't you tell me that?
I followed a group of beautiful women to the door while my pantsuit flowed around my ankles. Had I chosen a too-casual outfit? Since clients were not allowed to call or text escorts directly, he had communicated the dress code message via Grace. I was okay with that and especially favored clients who had the guts to choose what an escort should dress in. Grace had told me to wear neutral colors for the evening, so I chose a pair of loose, high-waisted white trousers that just barely hugged my chubby thighs before ending in a wide hem. I decided to pair the trousers with a pale pink, sleeveless crop top and a white cardigan that went with the entire ensemble. I was used to clients asking for a specific dress code. Nothing garish yet classy. Exactly how he desired.
I wasn't used to his asking how I should wear my hair, though. Odd. I wasn't used to having someone tell me how to style my hair, let alone a male. Without barrettes or clips, he had preferred it loose. It was ridiculous to spend so much time thinking about hair, but whatever. For me, it meant less labor.
As I entered through the rotating glass door, the suction caused my shoulder-length auburn locks to blow out. I tamed my wild hair wisps and looked around the lobby for the lift. The hotel has a chic, contemporary black-and-white marble appearance. Shiny. The atmosphere was fresh and pure. Singles, couples, and groups of all sizes checked in at the front desk, sat for beverages, and dragged small roller bags.
I would see the man I had been picturing for the past week in five minutes. If you include the period since our initial encounter, two weeks. He and I hadn't looked at one other in a very long time. But that would soon change. is too soon. Had I made the proper choice by allowing the kiss to go unnoticed? We hadn't shared anything about that evening.
I rapped my shaky hands on the door. Settle down. You have to do this. Livia, all you have to do is carry out your duties.
No response.
The driver gave you the keycard for that reason. Duh. My shoulders started to loosen up. Did he provide me a room of my own?
The room was sophisticated and exquisite, more like a lavish suite. There was a handwritten letter on the bar. It read:
Miss Davis,
Thank you for attending our date. Please make a drink for yourself. I'm downstairs with a client, I'll join you soon.
Sincerely,
Smith
My heart rate increased. Had he already noticed when I entered? I dismissed the thought. How foolish to believe that he was concentrating on whatever multibillion-dollar business he was negotiating while he was dining at the resort restaurant rather than my arrival.
Before long, I heard a brief, quiet knock on the door. I flung it open to find Smith standing in another suit. My stomach fluttered as I studied his statuesque form. He was tall, having about an eight-inch gain on me. Must be six foot two, judging by how his sun-kissed head almost banged into the door. Looking handsome as always, he wore a dark-blue suit that hugged his bulging muscles. His assessing eyes looked me over.