Page 144 of Hexed
“You sure you’re supposed to be asking questions like that?” I lift a brow.
His face flushes with embarrassment.
“You know, I don’t remember ordering any room service.” I bring the globe in front of me now, tossing it between my hands until my forearms burn.
He turns to me, his eyes shooting into circles when he sees me bouncing what’s basically a solid gold statue in my hands. “I’m just following orders, ma’am.”
I walk past him and pick up one of the metal tops covering plates of food. Pancakes. Looks like chocolate chips too. Side of fruit. Bacon. Eggs. Toast.
In fact, the more lids I peek under, the more I’m surprised, because it looks like someone ordered me the entire breakfast menu.
My stomach growls on cue.
And the coffee smells nice.
“I don’t have money to tip you,” I tell him.
He tracks the globe in my hand. “I was told not to accept anything.”
“Who’d you say sent it again?” I cock my head, placing down the heavy weight, amused at the way his nervous eyes follow it.
He swallows and shifts again on his feet. “Uh, Mr. Marino, ma’am.”
Surprise flitters through me, although I’m not sure why. I should have assumed it was from him. I’m just…tainted from my life. I don’t trust anyone, but when the guy freaking salutes me and walks out the door, I believe him.
Gratitude flows through me like a waterfall, and I close my eyes and let myself really sink into the moment, giving thanks that despite everything, this right here is something to be happy about. To immerse myself in.
A smile breaks over my face, and I sit down to eat without a second thought, because I’m hungry and I’m not too proud to accept a meal. Or ten meals, which is what it looks like on the giant rolling tray.
I’m only a few bites into my meal whenanotherknock rings out. “Room service!”
The voice sounds different this time, but I grin, wondering what else Enzo sent me. I stand up and walk to the door again.
Sighing, I press my hand to my forehead and then swing it open. “Honestly, this is getting…”
My words cut off midsentence, getting stuck in my throat when Bastien stands on the other side, a look of disbelief on his face.
“You didn’t even check to see who I was,” he reprimands.
My heart skips, hope filling me like helium. “What are you doing here?”
He scoffs and pushes past me, stomping to the living room likehehas any right to be mad atme.
The audacity.
Placing his hands on his hips, he twists around, whistling. “Damn, E put you up in this suite?”
I glance into the hallway and then close the door before walking over to where Bastien is.
He plops down on the couch so hard, he bounces, and then he grins at me. “Plush.”
I can’t really blame him. Itisa soft couch.
“You didn’t answer my question.” I go to the dining area and push the rolling tray over to the living room, sitting down next to him and putting the plate of pancakes on my lap.
“What are you eating?” He reaches out like he’s grabbing a piece, and I smack his hand away.
“Mine.”
