Page 58 of Until You Say Stay
“Mr. Midnight,” he says with a nod of recognition and a smile. “Welcome back to Miami.”
“Thanks, Carlos,” Jack says, shaking the man’s hand warmly. “Good to see you again. This is Lark.”
“Ms. Reyes,” Carlos says, his eyes kind. “Bienvenida a Miami. First visit to our city?”
“Sí, primera vez,” I reply with a smile. “Y estoy muy emocionada.”
Carlos looks pleased as he opens the car door for us. “Ah, habla español! Excelente. You will love Miami, I think. The city has a lot to offer.”
As we slide into the blissfully air-conditioned back seat, I take a deep breath of the cool air like it’s liquid gold and settle into the luxurious leather. The seats are butter-soft, the interior smelling like that indefinable new car scent mixed with something subtly expensive. Carlos closes the door and circles around to the driver’s seat.
“I didn’t realize how much I’d miss air conditioning in the few minutes we were outside,” I say, leaning back against the seat and letting the cool air wash over me. I glance over at Jack and narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Why aren’t you sweating? Are you even human?”
Jack smirks. “Racing suits in summer. Try sitting in a fireproof oven with the cockpit pushing a hundred and thirty degrees around you.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Oh great, so you’re basically heat-proof. Meanwhile I’ll be the puddle following you around all weekend.”
I watch Miami pass by outside the window, mesmerized. Palm trees line wide boulevards, their fronds swaying in a breeze I can’t feel through the glass. The sun is setting, casting everything in pinks and oranges, lighting up the glass skyscrapers like they’re on fire. It’s so different from Dark River’s evergreens and grey skies, so vibrant and alive.
“So, is this how you always travel?” I ask, gesturing around the luxury car. “The first class tickets, fancy car service, everything?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Not when I was younger and a rookie, but the more famous you get, the more perks come with it,” Jack says, watching the city roll by. “My manager, Thomas, handles all the logistics for events like this.”
I nod, taking in the colorful storefronts and outdoor cafes we pass. “It’s definitely a step up from my usual travel experience. Though I did once splurge on TSA PreCheck, so I’m basically a VIP too.”
Jack smiles. “Well, get ready for the full treatment this weekend. Tomorrow is the event on the track, then a fancy gala in the evening. That’s the black tie one I told you about, very high-end. Caviar, champagne fountains, the works.”
“Looking forward to it,” I say, mouth watering at the thought of fancy appetizers. Despite the fake nature of our relationship and the mortifying kiss still looming over me, I can’t help but be excited about experiencing his world for a weekend. It’s like getting a backstage pass to a life I’ve only seen in magazines and Instagram posts. His world, not mine. “Though I will try not to get too used to it. Going back to my regular life after all this luxury might be a shock to my system.”
“Nah, this is just practice for your future tour,” Jack says, nudging my shoulder with his. “You’ll have people carrying your guitar and bringing you green M&Ms or whatever your rider demands.”
“From your lips to the universe’s ears,” I reply, hoping desperately that he’s right. “So what’s the plan again for tonight? You mentioned you have to meet your manager?”
“Yeah, Thomas wants to go over some contract stuff tonight,” Jack says, checking his watch. “But that’s just me. You’ve got the evening free to enjoy the hotel or explore Miami if you want. The hotel has a pool on the rooftop. Probably the best view in Miami.”
“Oh, I am definitely hitting that pool,” I say, already picturing myself lounging with a fruity drink and zero responsibilities. “Who knows when I’ll get a chance to use a rooftop infinity pool again? I’m milking this weekend for all it’s worth.”
Jack laughs. “That’s the spirit.”
The hotel comes into view as we round a corner, and I gasp. It’s absolutely spectacular, a tower of white stone and glass soaring up from the beachfront like some kind of modern palace. Flags flutter from the entrance, and a fountain shoots crystal clear water in elegant arcs out front.
“The Azura,” Jack says. “One of the best in Miami.”
The car pulls up to a circular driveway paved with gleaming marble. A row of palm trees stands at attention along theentrance, and uniformed staff greet arriving guests with the kind of professionalism that must come from years of catering to the ultra-wealthy.
A valet in a crisp navy uniform opens our door before the car fully stops. “Welcome to the Azura, sir, madam,” he says.
Jack thanks Carlos and tips him generously before we step out. I take a moment to absorb the grandeur of the place. The massive fountain with water that dances in patterns, the subtle fragrance of jasmine in the air, the sense of exclusivity that hangs over everything like expensive perfume. This is the kind of place where celebrities and billionaires come to escape.
As we walk through the soaring glass doors, the blast of cool air is a welcome relief from the Miami heat. The lobby stretches out before us, modern design with marble floors, tasteful art installations, and a ceiling that seems impossibly high. A massive chandelier of cascading crystal catches the light, sending prisms dancing across the walls.
“Wow,” I murmur to Jack, trying not to gawk too obviously. “This place is incredible.”
“Wait till you see the pool,” he says with a smile.
At the reception desk, a sleek expanse of what looks like polished onyx, a woman in an impeccably tailored suit greets us. Her silver hair is styled in a perfect chignon. “Mr. Midnight,” she says with warmth, “welcome back to the Azura. So good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Claudia,” Jack says, leaning against the counter casually. “It’s good to be back.”
