Page 59 of Bullied Pregnant Mate

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles. “I’m not fluent in it. I can barely communicate with my accountant.”

We both laugh, and it feels good to let loose a little. The drive to the hotel is fairly short, and before I know it, we’re pulling up in front of the Forbes luxury hotel.

“Oh my God,” I murmur, looking up at the flawless pale walls and beautiful features of the building. “This is too much, Jenks.”

“Nothing is too much for my girl,” he says, leaning over to give me a quick kiss. “Let’s get up there and check out the room. We can go shopping later, unless you want to go now?”

“No, no. Let’s check in for now.”

The valet is waiting eagerly for us to get out of the car, and his face drops when he sees Jenks. Even though we’re in his Merc, both of us look like we just crawled out of a budget bin at a secondhand shop.

Sorry I look like a gutter rat, but I got dressed in a hurry.

When Jenks hands over a fifty-dollar bill with the keys, the valet visibly perks up. “Thank you, sir!” he says. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Not right now, thanks,” Jenks smiles and waves him off as we head inside.

“That was nice of you,” I say, rubbing his arm.

“I’ll say one thing for my mom,” he answers. “She instilled a real sense of gratitude in me, and generosity. She told me when you can afford to tip, you should. If we were ever in a big city, she’d fill her purse up with cash so she could hand some out to anyone who was homeless or hungry.”

“That’s amazing, Jenks.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Except that sometimes it feels like she had more kindness for them than she had for me.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just let go of his hand and stand behind him while he checks in.

“Welcome to Forbes!” the concierge greets us. “We have your details from the online form. No luggage, sir?”

“No,” Jenks replies. “I’d like to do some shopping while I’m here. Do you have local catalogs you can email to me?”

“Of course! If you require any assistance at all, let us know, and we can make arrangements for private shopping or even for a salesperson to come to your room.”

Jesus. How rich is he?

“I’d like you to send up some champagne, please, immediately,” Jenks says. “Moet.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else?”

“We don’t want to be disturbed for a few hours, but we’ll be ordering room service later.”

When he hands over the key, Jenks tips him as well. Even though my eyes almost bug out of my head, I don’t say anything.

We hold hands on the way up in the elevator, which seems to be taking us to a high floor. Excitement builds in me by the second, an accumulation of the stress from the previous days, relief at being away from the house, and the thrill of being inside a luxury hotel.

My imagination is working furiously as we stride down the hall, but when Jenks flicks the door open, I’m in no way prepared for what’s on the other side.

“Oh, my, God,” I whisper, my hands on my cheeks as I look around the room. Jenks chuckles softly as he shuts the door, watching me as I take slow steps towards the windows.

The view of the mountains is utterly breathtaking, spread out around us, almost a complete circle of windows. The roomitself is a wealth of luxury, a bombardment of fine detail that overwhelms me so much, I collapse on to the huge couch.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jenks says, sitting down next to me.

“Thank you, Jenks. And I don’t just mean the room. I feel like I’ve completely escaped into another world. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I got here.”

“I agree,” he says. “The meeting really took it out of me.”

Under those words, I can sense all the stress of the previous days bubbling up, and that’s the last thing I want. I turn to Jenks and put my hands on his cheeks, looking into his eyes. I have so many things I want to say, but when I see the naked hunger hiding in his gaze, I know that none of it matters.

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