I carried it off pretty well if I do say so myself—shoulders back, nose in the air, ice bucket held against my chest like a shield—right up until I slipped my key card into the door lock and it blinked red.
Red.
Uh-oh. I tried again. Nothing. I turned the card the other way and swiped it a few more times as if that would help.
What is it they say about insanity? It’s doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Sometimes I felt that way about my whole life.
“Those things are finicky,” a deep voice said behind me. “They can get demagnetized.”
It was hard to carry off the nose-in-the-air thing at this point. This was so what I didn’t need. In a towel with the hottie right behind me.
“Do you want to use my room phone to call the front desk?”
I sighed, shaking my head. “No thanks. I’ll go down there.”
“Good idea. That way a whole bunch of guys, everybody at the lobby bar, will see you in a towel instead of just me and whoever they send up with the new key.”
I turned around, prepared to do battle—hey, that was what I did, whether I was paid for it or not—but the logic of his argument deflated me as he stood there all innocent.
“You’re right. Thanks. But I don’t want to hold you up. You were going out.” I gestured with the arm that wasn’t holding the ice bucket and keeping the towel secure.
He slipped an iPhone out of his pocket and tapped away. “I was planning to meet my lawyer in the bar to be debriefed on some meetings, but I didn’t want to anyway. There. Done.” The cell went back in his pocket. “I’d rather help a damsel in distress.”
I considered asking to borrow his cell and avoid going to his room, but he was already walking down the hall and sliding a card key into his door, which magically unlocked, like it was supposed to. He held it open, beckoning me, and I didn’t want to look paranoid.
A peek inside his suite showed it was even fancier than mine with a mirrored bar, floor-to-ceiling windows and plush leather sofas. I must have the junior digs or something. Maybe that was why I didn’t get a robe. He shrugged out of his jacket, laying it on a chair by the door. He loosened his tie, too.
I stood in the foyer, a faint sense of unease rearing its head. I may be in a towel, but no need for him to go undressing.
“Phone’s right there,” he said.
Once I gave my room number and explained to the hotel operator that I was locked out, she told me she’d send somebody up, warning that it was a shift change and might take a few minutes.
I hung up, tightening my towel, and his eyes followed the movement.
“Thanks for the use of the phone.”
“Sure. I don’t bite if you want to sit down. Have a drink while you wait.”
“I want to be outside when they come up.”
Besides, I wasn’t sure I could sit down without flashing him.
He didn’t close the door behind me as I went to take my post and I was grateful for it when he poked his head out a few minutes later and called down, “Not here yet?”
“Shift change, I guess.” I set the ice bucket on the carpet. “Can I come to your room for a minute though?”
“Couldn’t resist my charm?” he asked as I hurried past him.
“No. I have to use the bathroom.”
“You’re not very good for my ego,” he said, pointing the way.
When I came out, the door to the hallway was still open. “Nobody yet. I’ve been watching.”
I was beginning to feel as if fate were conspiring against me, or with me. Tie off, shirt open, black hair ruffled, my neighbor was getting comfortable for the night, and it didn’t take much imagination to picture myself getting comfy with him. Since I was already undressed and everything.
Reflexively, I tightened my towel again.
“You know doing that makes me focus on how I wish it would drop, right? I doubt that’s what you’re trying for, but hope springs eternal.”
He took two beers out of his minibar, smiling slightly, and popped one open, kicking off his shoes. “Don’t worry. If your cold shoulder at the ice machine didn’t do it, the doe-in-the-headlights look you’re giving me now would.”
“Doe in the headlights?”
I’d been called a shark before, but a doe? And as for my towel dropping, even if I wanted to take my malfunctioning card key as a sign and throw caution to the wind—which I didn’t, I reminded myself firmly—I’d been in a sweaty law firm conference room all day and hadn’t cleaned up yet. I was getting ready to when I went for the ice. In the shape I was in, I probably smelled and wasn’t fit for a hookup with a guy like this. But though I may not be good with flirting, even I knew not to mention my own body odor to a guy.