Page 34 of An Inconvenient Marriage
“Okay. Love you.”
“And I love you right back.”
I hung up and hurried to answer the door. It was a room attendant with one hand on the handle of a cart and a huge rectangular box balanced in the palm of the other.
“Room service,” he said with a smile and thick Spanish accent.
I frowned. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Sí. Señor de la Fuente requested I bring this for you.”
“Zach sent this?” I parroted like a freaking idiot.
The room attendant’s smile broadened. Nodding, he quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to me as if it would explain everything. Maybe it did, I was just too shocked to read it.
Thankfully, my brain was still in a somewhat working state, and I realized I couldn’t leave the poor man standing out in the hallway. Smiling back at him, I opened the door wider. After he set the cart in the middle of the room, he said goodbye and left again.
Once I closed the door, I turned around and simply stared at the cart and the box the room attendant had left on the table. If the delicious aroma wasn’t a dead giveaway that the cart had food on it, the shiny silver cloche sure would have been.
So Zach had sent me food. But what was in the box?
Then I remembered the note. I lifted it to my face. My poor heart was already in overdrive, and I hadn’t even read a single word on it yet. When my gaze finally slid over the straight lines of Zach’s handwriting—at least I thought it was his—my heart was ready to leap out of my chest.
Remember what I told you about starving yourself? I asked the chef to prepare tortilla Española.
Eat.
I’ve also added something for you for tonight.
See you at six thirty.
Z
I read over the note three more times, my thumb gliding over the words as I took them in. Maybe I was stalling. Or maybe I was just too stunned to move, but I stood at the door like a moron for another few minutes.
It was only when my tummy let out a way-too-loud rumble that my feet finally moved. I went to the cart first, eagerly removing the cloche to see what was under it. I was happy that the tortilla looked as good as it smelled, maybe even better.
Grabbing a fork, I loaded it with a big bite and shoved it into my mouth. I was very grateful I was alone because the noises that came out of me after that was nothing short of embarrassing.
I also finally understood the meaning of a foodgasm.
Holy goodness, it was delicious. Rich and moreish, two flavors that were never allowed on any of my meal plans. But there was no one here counting my bites or telling me I’d had enough.
With that realization, I sat and eagerly finished the entire plate. Not the best idea since my tummy wasn’t used to getting so much at once. Hands on my stomach, I leaned back in my seat and moaned.
Then I remembered the box.
Jolting upright, I kept my gaze on the black rectangle and wiped my mouth. When I was done, I gingerly drew it closer. The lid had gold lettering on it, but since it was in Spanish, I didn’t know what it meant. That didn’t stop me from tracing the embossed letters with my fingers.
No doubt it was fancy. Elegant even. Could it be a dress? Excitement bubbled in my veins, and I yanked off the lid as fast as I could.
When I saw the soft white tissue paper, I knew it was a dress. As eager as I was to get to it, I forced myself to be careful when I unwrapped the paper. Taking the delicate tissue between my fingers, I slowly pulled one layer away from the other.
Then my breath caught.
The little black number nestled inside wasn’t just beautiful, it had a striking resemblance to my wedding gown—if my wedding gown had been a short cocktail dress.
I was in awe. Not just of the dress. Zach, too. That he’d seen this dress and thought of me had me feeling all sorts of things. Maybe Everlee was right about it taking the right man at the right time.
