Why did she have to be such a drama queen? Luca was only in it for fun. She had no business getting all sensitive because she entered this fling with her eyes wide open. He could only hurt her if she’d let him. She had years of training. Her heart muscles had bulked-up against any form of disappointment. She was no one to him the same way he was nobody to her. She just had to keep reminding herself that since she had the tendency to lose her senses around him.
It’s not that complicated, Sabrina. Score with the billionare and you score a royal invite. Luca had wanted her to stay after they had been interrupted. But what if he had lost his interest after that hard-to-get act drama she put on when Eleni left? And goodness, where had the waterworks come from?
The only sure thing she could depend on was herself. She had learned that lesson early and she had learned it well. If she wanted to accomplish what she came here for, she had to have a back-up plan. Just in case he reneged on his promise.
People did it all the time.
The young man was clearly affected by her beauty. He stammered and blushed as he consulted the computer screen, checking the availability of the outrageously expensive suites she had specifically named.
“I’m sorry. They are all booked, miss,” the front desk officer said apologetically. “With the royal wedding and the launch, our occupancy rate is at 100%.”
“It’s such a shame. My friend Mr. Latimer had set his heart on the Apollo suite.”
“Would that be Mr. Chase Latimer?” the young man’s eyes widened, then he looked around anxiously, as if afraid his fellow front desk staff would take him to task for his presumptuousness.
Sabrina nodded, lifting a finger to her mouth for silence. She should be ashamed she was name dropping, but Chase would understand. She leaned forward and tried to squeeze her breasts to give it more leverage, thinking that at this moment the silicone enhancement Chase had been bugging her to have as his birthday gift wouldn’t hurt at all. Sabrina was happy with her B cup, but Chase insisted that "more is more."
“It’s just that he found a short break in his shooting schedule in Italy and would really like to come down tomorrow.” She sighed dramatically. “But I heard the Apollo suite is reserved for the Konstantinos family, so that’s out of the question.”
The young man appeared close to wringing his hands, the frustration on his thin face evident. “Yes, miss. Again, I’m sorry I cannot accommodate your request. The Apollo suite and several others have been reserved for the use of the family-” he broke off, seeming to realize that he had said more than was allowed. “I can look again at the other suites from time to time, and if there are any cancellations, I will let you know…” The tone of his voice indicated that this would not be a likely occurrence.
“I’d appreciate it,” she eyed his name tag, “Lorenzo, very much.” She flashed a huge smile, turned around to walk away, and then whirled back towards the counter and added as if an afterthought. “Would you happen to know until when the Konstantinos have booked the Apollo suite? Just in case Chase gets another break in his film schedule,” she said, all chummy-like. “They’re arriving tomorrow, right?”
It was hard to hold your breath while a big smile was pinned on your face. Please let him fall for it. Please.
“I’m sorry, miss. I cannot give you that information.”
Arrghh! Of the two of them, she felt Lorenzo was more pained about not being able to give her what she wanted. She forced herself to hold her smile when what she really wanted to do was stomp her feet in frustration.
“Of course. I understand.” Now it was harder to smile when one was simultaneously gritting one’s teeth. “You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”
Once again she turned around and ran straight into a familiar cloud of heavy perfume. It was Eleni Konstantinos. Her feelings about seeing her again were mixed. If anyone in the hotel could tell her when the dratted family was arriving, it would be one of them. Behind Eleni was a young bespectacled woman carrying an electronic gadget and a small two-way radio.
“Fancy bumping into you again so soon, Miss Connelly.”
Eleni was still wearing the same suit that she had last seen her in. Her hair was pulled back, not a single strand of hair out of place. Her make-up still looked fresh.
“Miss Konstantinos,” she murmured, taken aback by the openly derisive glance the other woman speared her with from head to toe. She had changed out of her sundress and was wearing one of those ubiquitous island souvenir shirts and cut-off denim shorts. Somehow she knew Eleni Konstantinos would not be receptive to questions about the comings and goings of her relatives. It was another dead end.