Page 35 of When Glitter Meets Gold

“Fantastic!” I call as I turn on the faucet and splash water across my face. My gross, wilderness-splattered face.

It’s worse than I’d imagined.

Mascara smudged at the corners of my eyes, dirt lining my cheeks like cheap salon contour, hair wild and identifying as something even a bird wouldn’t roost in. Religiously combing my hair thoroughly before bed and in the morning isn’t just one of my rituals, it’s essential maintenance for every female with even a dribble of Mediterranean blood. Our hair is just made different. Skipping a session is playing with fire.

There’s no way I can let Drew see me like this.

And since when did he start calling meSar? I rinse my hands, watching in horror as grime washes from my skin and collects in the basin. No wonder Jack left so abruptly at the watch tower, I’mhideous.

“What are you doing here?” I call. “I didn’t know you had vacation time planned?”

I hear a laugh followed by a light thud, like he’s rested his head against the door or something. “I’m still technically working. Laptops in my bag. Hey, you didn’t get my messages?”

My nose wrinkles, and my eyes squeeze shut. “No, I…lost my phone.”

“Oh, then shit.” He laughs. “Well, I guess this makes things kind of awkward.”

“Ha!” A yelp of accidental laughter.

“Sar,” he begins again, seeming to compose himself because his voice gets a little lower and more serious than I’ve ever heard it. “Sara. I guess I thought we had a connection. And then there was that night at SB, you know thatFriday we both stayed late, and Ireallythought we had a connection. I messaged you a bunch of times last night because I was curious, but you didn’t reply. I guess I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I called Amber…”

My hand covers my face as my pulse thumps against my temple because what the hell did she tell him? I glance at the door from my stooped position at the sink.

“She told me about this place.”

Curse that woman.

“I know it’s impulsive showing up here like this. I don’t always think before I make a decision. But when I looked up this hotel, I couldn’t understand why you’d spend all that money on a place like this when you’re supposed to be on a hike. Then I figured it out…”

Shit.He’s onto me. I’m busted. I’m so damn busted.

I’m about to yank open the door, beg him to hear me out, but he starts talking again. “This place is for us, isn’t it? You and me, Sara.”

HUH?

“I’m right, aren’t I? I could see it in your eyes in the lobby, when I said I was jealous I wasn’t going with you. You didn’t say anything because the wheels were already turning. You were already planning this. You wanted me to come out here.” I hear him chuckle to himself. “I said you had a wild streak. Man, I was so right. I don’t miss with this stuff.”

I’m silent because I’m so embarrassed. He couldn’t be further off the mark. He’s so wrong, I have to cover my entire mouth so I don’t laugh. Yes, the plan was to get Drew to notice me, but this is crazy. Him showing up here iscrazy.

He’s wrong. So wrong. Wrong to the point it kind of makes me feel a little weird about ever liking him in the first place.

Although…it beats telling him the actual truth, doesn’t it? God, more lies? It’s like I’ve learned nothing.

“Are you still there?” Drew asks a little worried. “Can you just tell me I’m right? Starting to get a little nervous out here.”

My head snaps up to my reflection in the gold-framed mirror. I’m starving. I smell like roadkill. My armpits are sprouting fur.

“Everything’s fine. Give me five minutes,” I say as I fling myself behind the glass shower screen. “I just have to freshen up,” I call over the sound of the golden stemmed showerhead, which bursts to life as I peel clothes from my grime-caked body.

“Cool.” Drew’s voice perks up, and I can practically envision the dazzling smile spreading across his perfectly sculpted face. “I’ll go get more strawberries.”

He’s gone before I can yell for him to get me something more substantial.

I grab a fresh razor from its pack while internally squealing with joy at the array of products in front of me.

I scrutinize the bottles then immediately begin to lather myself in soapy liquid, scrubbing and shaving every crevice of my body until my flesh is red and irritated.

Five minutes later, I’m drying off, and stepping into one of my silk slips, noting how its soft pink tones almost blend perfectly with the vibrant pink of my scoured skin. I slap on some moisturizer, hoping it’ll ease the sting; then I pull on a cotton robe, tying it tightly before I step out of the bathroom and into the room.

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