Page 7 of Tis The Season for Secrets
How weird was that?Juliet shook off the encounter and decided to punish herself with more of Hugo’s attempt at charm.
“The bar is closing for cleaning,” the bartender called out, and Juliet jumped like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“I’d better get home,” she muttered to herself, strapping on her heels and grabbing the manuscript and her clutch. It was amazing how fast time flew by when you were reading page after horrendous page.
Walking through the lobby, she saw the doorman was still on duty.
“I need a taxi, please?” Juliet asked him, only to notice that the path outside was coated in a thick layer of snow.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the snow is coming down something terrible. We haven’t been able to call any taxis.” The white-haired man with the large top hat smiled at her sadly. She winced, not fancying a freezing trek, but she had to get home.
“Do you think I could catch one on Douglas Street? It’s only a five-minute walk up the block.” She’d never considered the snow.
“I wouldn’t risk it.” He shook his head. “They can arrange a car first thing in the morning at Reception. It’s 3am right now, and the earliest we’re expecting to have the road’s clear is seven. There might be a room or two left if you check at Reception.” Given how the information rolled off his tongue, she wasn’t the first person he’d given the spiel to. She wasn’t in any position to argue; she wouldn’t get far in heels.
“Thanks. I’ll ask at the desk.”
It turned out that Juliet wasn’t the only one stranded and in need of a room. She waited in a small queue, surprised when she spotted the stranger from earlier talking to someone by the elevator. He glanced in her direction, and she snapped her gaze forward, wondering why he hadn’t come back to the bar after his phone call. Not that she cared. Okay, maybe she did a little.
Luckily, a receptionist with bright red lipstick waved her over.
She stepped forward, then came to an abrupt halt when the stranger from the bar walked in front of her.
“Excuse me, but I believe I was next,” she protested. Even if he’d bought her a drink, she wasn’t going to let him cut the queue.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder with an apologetic smile. “I just needed to get a keycard – of course you can go first.” He motioned for her to go ahead. She did so quickly, embarrassed that she’d snapped.
“I’m sorry, Miss Frost, but there are no rooms left,” the receptionist informed her.
Juliet sighed, feeling the stranger’s eyes on her. He was probably amused by her being turned away.
“I can ask one of the other ladies with emergency accommodation if they wouldn’t mind sharing for the night, but I’m afraid it’ll be at their discretion.” The receptionist’s smile didn’t falter as she delivered the rest of the bad news: all the cars in their service were booked until the afternoon.
Juliet really didn’t like the idea of sharing with a stranger. “I’ll wait in the lobby. Hopefully the taxis will start running again soon.” She cursed herself for not leaving earlier with Margot. There was no way to know when the snow was going to stop or when taxi service would resume, and she had to get across the city by 8am to give Ms Baum the manuscript.
The receptionist moved on without a second glance. Juliet moved to the end of the counter as the stranger winked at her. She was beginning to think he was a curse. He seemed to turn up whenever something went wrong.
“Mr Duncan, is there anything I can assist you with?” the receptionist asked him. Juliet guessed he was a regular from the warmth of the greeting.
“Will, please,” he corrected her, and the receptionist blushed. “I’ve stupidly locked myself out of my suite. There’s a party happening beside me, and when I went to ask them to keep it down, I forgot to bring my keycard with me.”
Juliet rolled her eyes. The receptionist had lingered on every word and looked to be about a second away from salivating.
“I’m very sorry for the disruption. Please allow us to comp the night for you.” The receptionist’s wide smile told him she was eager to please.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Someone is handling it as we speak.” Will’s eyes drifted to Juliet as she pretended to look at her phone. She assumed the man he’d been speaking to by the elevator worked at the hotel. Looked like Hugo was in for an even rougher night.
“Could we talk for a moment?” Will said from beside her. She hadn’t noticed him approach; she kept trying to text Margot, but her messages weren’t going through.
“I’m not going to apologise for asking you to wait your turn,” she said defensively, putting her phone in her clutch.
To her surprise, he rested his hand on her lower back. Normally she’d have scolded a guy for uninvited physical contact, but he was merely guiding her away from the onlooking guests.
“I heard about your dilemma, and I wanted to ask if you’d like to stay with me?” he asked, placing his hands in his pockets.
Juliet stared at him, confused.
Reading her hesitation, he explained, “I’ve got a suite, and I promise to be a perfect gentleman. You can’t wait in the lobby all night.”
