Did Someone Order Room Service?: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance Novella (Do Not Disturb, Book 2) by Charlotte Phillips
Authors: Charlotte Phillips
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Matt’s hand.
‘Can I have your autograph?’ she said, tugging her blouse apart and thrusting a pink-bra-clad breast at him.
Matt took the pen from her with a flourish as much giggling ensued.
An unexpected wave of nausea rose in Layla’s throat and she pressed a hand to her mouth and blinked hard to clear her watering eyes. There was no way she was staying to take in another second of this and she turned away to head back to the hotel on her own. Unfortunately not before she picked up the breathy cry of gratitude, ‘I’m never going to wash again!’
Classy.
****
She retouched her make up in the staff toilets, removing all trace of kissed-off lippy, and kneeled underneath the hand drier briefly to blast away the damp from the misty rain. As if by restoring herself to work mode she could somehow undo her epic unprofessional behaviour this week. She should never have let any of this happen, it had been utter madness. She’d let herself be sucked into seeing him as a real person with proper scruples and genuine emotions, when in truth his image was always going to come first. Every aspect of his behaviour was influenced by it, she saw that now.
A wake-up call. And not before time. What the hell had she been thinking, letting herself get involved with someone like him?
Lurking beneath the hideous disappointment was fury with herself because she was even bothered. That was somehow worst of all. She’d thought herself so above all this, had believed she was immune to the charm of someone like him. Turned out, she was no different to every other female with a pulse.
Still, better late than never. All she needed to do now was avoid him. Make some excuse, maybe get one of the butlers to cover for her. He was scheduled to check out in forty eight hours, how hard could that be?
****
‘Kerry Suite’s just called down,’ the manager said as she emerged from the toilets directly into his path. Layla’s hands instantly crept to smooth her shirt into place, as if he might still somehow guess that work for her this week had had little or nothing to do with, well, actual
work
.
‘Apparently you’re meant to be there?’ He frowned. ‘Some kind of admin task, ring a bell?’
Admin task?
Oh just bloody perfect.
‘I’m really tied up here,’ she gabbled, taking a step away from him in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Maybe one of the concierge team could step in?’
The frown morphed into raised eyebrows. ‘I thought you were able to handle this,’ he said. ‘Can’t just chop and change the point of contact for the guest. We committed to letting him use you as staff for the week. That comes first. Whatever you’re tied up with here, get someone else to do it. Unless you’re not up to the job of course. Which,’ he added pointedly, ‘would be a shame with the departmental changes in the pipeline. You’re hardly recommending yourself for the post here are you? If you can’t pull out all stops for one guest, we’re hardly going to believe you can do it for a hotel full of them.’
She changed direction and headed for the lift.
****
She took a deep breath outside the door before giving it her standard work double-tap. Her heart might be thundering like a train but she rearranged her face into what she hoped was a detached professional expression.
He opened the door. She could see beyond him that the fire had been lit. Its mellow glow lit the sitting room area cosily. The mist of their walk had turned into full on rain now, she could hear it pattering at the windows. His smile of welcome made her stomach churn. So he was back in his suite with the rest of the world shut out and now she had a place. In his bed, to be precise. She’d had a glimpse now of what it would be like when he checked out of the hotel. No place for her in any of that. The disappointment twisting in her stomach told her that somewhere deep down she had hoped that wouldn’t be the case, that there could somehow be more for them
‘Can I have your autograph?’ she said, tugging her blouse apart and thrusting a pink-bra-clad breast at him.
Matt took the pen from her with a flourish as much giggling ensued.
An unexpected wave of nausea rose in Layla’s throat and she pressed a hand to her mouth and blinked hard to clear her watering eyes. There was no way she was staying to take in another second of this and she turned away to head back to the hotel on her own. Unfortunately not before she picked up the breathy cry of gratitude, ‘I’m never going to wash again!’
Classy.
****
She retouched her make up in the staff toilets, removing all trace of kissed-off lippy, and kneeled underneath the hand drier briefly to blast away the damp from the misty rain. As if by restoring herself to work mode she could somehow undo her epic unprofessional behaviour this week. She should never have let any of this happen, it had been utter madness. She’d let herself be sucked into seeing him as a real person with proper scruples and genuine emotions, when in truth his image was always going to come first. Every aspect of his behaviour was influenced by it, she saw that now.
A wake-up call. And not before time. What the hell had she been thinking, letting herself get involved with someone like him?
Lurking beneath the hideous disappointment was fury with herself because she was even bothered. That was somehow worst of all. She’d thought herself so above all this, had believed she was immune to the charm of someone like him. Turned out, she was no different to every other female with a pulse.
Still, better late than never. All she needed to do now was avoid him. Make some excuse, maybe get one of the butlers to cover for her. He was scheduled to check out in forty eight hours, how hard could that be?
****
‘Kerry Suite’s just called down,’ the manager said as she emerged from the toilets directly into his path. Layla’s hands instantly crept to smooth her shirt into place, as if he might still somehow guess that work for her this week had had little or nothing to do with, well, actual
work
.
‘Apparently you’re meant to be there?’ He frowned. ‘Some kind of admin task, ring a bell?’
Admin task?
Oh just bloody perfect.
‘I’m really tied up here,’ she gabbled, taking a step away from him in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Maybe one of the concierge team could step in?’
The frown morphed into raised eyebrows. ‘I thought you were able to handle this,’ he said. ‘Can’t just chop and change the point of contact for the guest. We committed to letting him use you as staff for the week. That comes first. Whatever you’re tied up with here, get someone else to do it. Unless you’re not up to the job of course. Which,’ he added pointedly, ‘would be a shame with the departmental changes in the pipeline. You’re hardly recommending yourself for the post here are you? If you can’t pull out all stops for one guest, we’re hardly going to believe you can do it for a hotel full of them.’
She changed direction and headed for the lift.
****
She took a deep breath outside the door before giving it her standard work double-tap. Her heart might be thundering like a train but she rearranged her face into what she hoped was a detached professional expression.
He opened the door. She could see beyond him that the fire had been lit. Its mellow glow lit the sitting room area cosily. The mist of their walk had turned into full on rain now, she could hear it pattering at the windows. His smile of welcome made her stomach churn. So he was back in his suite with the rest of the world shut out and now she had a place. In his bed, to be precise. She’d had a glimpse now of what it would be like when he checked out of the hotel. No place for her in any of that. The disappointment twisting in her stomach told her that somewhere deep down she had hoped that wouldn’t be the case, that there could somehow be more for them
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