Page 20 of The Husband Contract
“What sounds like a scam, sir?” I ask politely.
“Just tell me the price.”
“Our rates range from $299 a night to $499 a night, depending upon?—”
“How much available credit I have on my card?”
“Depending upon the date and the type of room. We have several room upgrades with...” My voice trails off as they hang up. Sometimes it’s really annoying working with customers, but the joy I receive from being around positive and happy guests usually makes up for the kill-joys.
I check to see if there are any reservations for the day, and I’m pleasantly surprised that one of our repeat guests, Mrs. Kubica, is checking in. The bell above the door dings, and in she walks, holding a small terrier dog, named Spottyetta, and pulling a large suitcase.
“Welcome back to the Whispering Haven Bed and Breakfast, Mrs. Kubica,” I beam at her as she hurries to the front, Spottyetta trying to jump out of her arms as she moves. “Hi Spottyetta.” I wave at the dog, who snarls at me. I’ve noticed that the dog is always happy until it hears its name. I’m sure that must mean something, but I’m not about to bring it up to Mrs. Kubica, who seems oblivious.
“Why, good afternoon, Willow.” Mrs. Kubica places Spottyetta on the top of the counter and searches through her handbag for something. “It’s such a nice day.”
“It really is,” I say, ignoring Spottyetta as she runs back and forth, sniffing and licking. I’ll have to wipe the counter down once they get to their room. “Any fun plans for thenext two days?” I ask as I bring up her reservation in the system.
“Oh, Spotty and I will just relax and order room service.” She beams at me, and I smile back. I’ll have to make sure Katherine and Brielle come in this afternoon, as they are much better in the kitchen than I am. “Here’s my credit card, dear.” She hands me her yellow MTA card, and I stare at it for a few seconds.
“This is for the train, Mrs. Kubica.”
“Oh, yes, let me find my American Express.” She fumbles in her handbag some more. “Oh, where is it?” she mumbles to herself as I stand there patiently.
Ding. The bell above the entrance to Whispering Haven Bed and Breakfast rings, and I look up from behind the front desk to see who is here. Charlotte is out of town. Aunt Mildred is likely playing bingo. I’m here by myself today, as Katherine and Brielle decided to go thrifting to see if they could find any antiques to upsell, to help raise money. And there are no other guests in the system to check in. I see a hand on the door, but the figure has not yet walked into the lobby.
“Mrs. Kubica, I have you booked for two nights in our Ruby suite,” I say quickly and look back to the door. My jaw drops in shock when I see who has walked in. It’s a man. A tall, sexy, very handsome man. I can feel myself smiling as I gaze upon him. He has to be about six-two, with silky dark hair and smoldering brown eyes. There’s a hint of a smile on this man's face, and I think I may melt into the ground. But as I smile back at him, I freeze. He looks familiar. Very familiar.
“Oh, hell no,” I mumble under my breath. It’s the jerk from the Magnolia Club. The one who thought I was trying to steal from his pockets. The one who thought he was some sort of big deal.
“Yes, the Ruby suite. My son Maurice wanted me to spoil myself,” she says as she finally hands me her credit card.
“Well, you deserve it,” I say in a perfunctory tone. I am having a hard time concentrating right now as my new guest is staring at me with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s staring into my soul and trying to convey a message. A message that my body interprets asI want to devour you.
I want to whisper back, Devour every piece of me, but don’t speak, but I’m not crazy.
Yet.
“Welcome to Whispering Haven Bed and Breakfast,” I say, trying to still my racing heart as he steps towards the front and next to Mrs. Kubica, his stride confident and long. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, and I swallow hard. I try to remind myself that he’s a jerk. A rich jerk, at that. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
“No worries, take your time.” His voice is warm, deep, and smooth, and I’m taken aback by his warm smile and intense gaze. Does he not recognize me and remember who I am?
“Thank you. This shouldn’t take long,” I say, smiling at him. Though I really want to ask him why he’s here. I want to ask if he remembers who I am. I want to ask him if he regrets being so rude to me. But of course, I’m not going to ask him any of those things, especially not in front of Mrs. Kubica.
“Spotty,” she says, calling to her dog. I watch as Spottyetta completely ignores her.
“Spottyetta, your mom’s calling.” I tap the countertop to get her attention. The dog looks up at me and growls, tongue hanging out and dropping drool. I look over at the handsome man and notice he has a comical look on his face, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Spotty,” Mrs. Kubica says, taking out a couple oftreats and putting them on the counter in front of her. The dog goes running, eats the treats greedily, and then sits. I watch as Spotyetta looks over at the man and makes doe eyes, probably hoping that he will give her something. When she realizes she’s getting nothing from him, she turns back to me.
“Hi, Spottyetta,” I say as I finish the check-in process.
This time, Spottyetta doesn’t growl but instead lowers her body as if she’s going to pee. I freeze.
“Mrs. Kubica, does she need to go outside?” I ask quickly, because the last thing I want is dog pee on the counter, rolling down the sides onto my paperwork and my computer. Charlotte would kill me if I told her that dog pee fried our workstation.
“Oh, no, she’s fine. Thanks for asking, though, Willow.” She beams as I hand her back her credit card.
“Well, you’re going to be in the Ruby Suite, which is on the second floor. Would you like me to help with your bag?”
