Page 6 of Besties
“Two, please.”
“All right.” She swiped two plastic cards through a reader, then slipped them into a folder, which she handed Richie. “Mr. Ryland, we have you down for seven nights in our presidential suite, rooms 2207, 2208, and 2209. Room service is available twenty-four hours a day, and the restaurant just up the stairs opens at six with a full breakfast. The workout facilities are located on the lower level, and your keycard will give you access to that.”
The way she smiled at him, I thought she might be smitten with Richie. He hadn’t changed much since I’d seen him last. He was still big, beefy, and had a sweet baby face. Who couldn’t love that?
“Did you need help with your luggage?”
“No, but thank you for asking.” He handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Could you be sure the bellman gets this?”
“Of course, sir.” She tucked it under the computer, then focused on Richie again. “Enjoy your stay.”
He picked up his suitcase, put his other hand on my back, and guided me through the ornate lobby and up a small set of stairs, where we saw the bustling cafe.
“Do you want to eat first?”
My stomach was knotted and the idea of food left me nauseous. “No.”
We got on the elevator, where Richie slipped the card into the slot in the panel on the wall, then pressed for the floor. When we got out, he turned the corner and followed the corridor, then stopped before double doors. Again using his key, he unlocked it and swung it open. The place was gorgeous.
“You’re staying here?”
“No,weare staying here. You can have either bedroom.”
He walked over to the bar and opened the binder, flipped through a few pages, then closed it. “Still like pizza?”
“Yes, but—”
He glared at me. “You’re going to eat, you’re going to enjoy it, and you’re going to feel better,” he rumbled, letting me know the choice was out of my hands. I hated that I was okay with that. Picking up the receiver, he tapped two buttons. When the person answered, Richie grinned. “I want two Zaffiro’s pizzas with double, no, make thattriplecheese. One meat-lover and one veggie-lover. And a six-pack of Mountain Dew, a six-pack of whatever non-caffeinated soda you carry, and two slices of the most decadent chocolate cake you’ve got.”
I stared at him, but looked away when he turned and winked at me.
“Thirty minutes? Sounds great. Thank you.” He hung up. “We have thirty minutes. I suggest you go take a shower. No offense, but you’re a little ripe.”
Shower? Shit, I think the last time I showered was the day I had the donut.
“I don’t have any clean clothes.”
“Let me worry about that. There’s a men’s shop downstairs. I’m sure they’ll have something you can wear.”
“But I don’t have—”
“I’ll take care of it. Go shower and I promise you’ll feel better.”
The imploring look he pinned me with gave me butterflies.
“Let me take care of you, okay? At least for this week.” He reached out and cupped my cheek. “Do you need a hug?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him.
“It’s going to be okay, Max. I give you my word, and you know that’s as good as gold.”
Before I could answer, he turned me loose, then hurried out the door. I went into the room on the right and stepped into the bathroom. It was nicely appointed, with marble countertops, gleaming faucets, and a shallow bathtub. I thought about just turning on the spray, but instead I ran a hot bath, stripped off my clothes, and slipped into the tub. The heat loosened my tense muscles, and I relaxed more than I had in the last two weeks.
A sharp rap at the door startled me.
“Did you fall asleep?”
I had. The skin on my fingers had pruned, but like Richie promised, I felt a lot better. I got out, toweled off, then wrapped it around me. When I opened the door, Richie stood there next to a mountain of boxes. He handed one to me.
