Page 17 of Love Off Course

“Welcome to Hotel Zaragoza,” she says proudly. “We are pleased that you are staying with us. Should there be anything to make your stay more comfortable, please let us?—”

“I want an upgrade,” I blurt out, cutting her off. “This room smells like mildew. I’ll get my credit card and you can charge it. Preferably something with a view and Wi-Fi.”

Her eyes narrow sharply at me and she sniffs the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Because you’re used to this shithole.”

Estefania gasps, but I won’t be talked down to by a maid with an attitude.

“Perhaps after Rodrigo comes through, we can see about putting you up in one of the villas, but it’s simply not safe at this moment.” Her tone is curt and brooks no room for argument.

“The sun’s out.” I put my hand on my hip and arch my brow.

“The thing about storms is they tease you with perfect weather before they destroy everything you love.” Her eyes darken. “If you don’t need anything, I’m going to check on the other guests in thisshithole.”

She turns on her heel and slams the door behind her on her way out.

“Rude,” I grumble. “So rude. Wasn’t she rude?” I turn to Estefania, needing backup from my roomie.

“She was short,” Estefania agrees, her eyes shifting to the floor, unable to meet my gaze. “Want to go swimming while it is still nice?”

“No.”

She flinches and guilt assaults me. Guilt! Since when do I care when my tone upsets people? Since never. Those who work for me have to have a spine. Those who don’t, don’t last.

But Estefania doesn’t work for me.

“I’d like to wait for my dad’s call if that’s okay. Go on without me. Don’t let me hold you back.” I offer her a forced smile, hoping to soften the blow.

I don’t do soft.

I am always hard because I need to be.

She sits on her bed and digs around in her purse. When she pulls out a bottle of orange nail polish, I frown. It’s hideous and offensively bright.

“We will do manicures instead,” she says, shrugging. “While we wait for your father.”

Her smile is wide and innocent as she shakes the bottle. Ugh. I could use her in some of my deals I do for RT Corp.Estefania disarms even the toughest of people. With a grumble of annoyance, I offer her my hand as I sit beside her.

“Fine.”

She cheers and bounces on the bed. “Oh, Sherrie-dan, we are going to be the best of friends. Our nails and toes will match. It will be so cute!”

There is nothing cute about that orange polish.

Still, I try for this girl, though I don’t know why. “So cute,” I deadpan, making her giggle.

Despite the horrible color that makes me cringe as she strokes it onto each of my nails, I find myself relaxing in Estefania’s presence. She’s calm and light and sweet and funny—the exact opposite of me. It’s when she’s blowing on my nails, her eyes twinkling, that I decide I do like her. Like a good businesswoman, I analyze her and determine she is an asset to me. She’s one of the few who likes me and has already come to my aid. I will acquire her as mine.

I waketo the sound of a phone ringing. The hair dryer is going in the bathroom, so Estefania doesn’t hear it. Rubbing at my eyes, I hurry and sit up. I’m not sure how long the phone’s been ringing, but I answer it in time.

“Hello?”

“Sher Bear?”

I choke up, hearing my father’s gravelly voice. “Daddy?” Tears well in my eyes and I’m nine years old again, trying desperately to hold it all together for Daddy. “I miss you.”

His chuckle is one of surprise. Music plays in the background, but it fades as he steps away. “I miss you too. Is everything okay? Are you safe?”

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