Page 8 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“I agree.”
The holiday cost me two months’ salary, which took me twelve months, one credit card, and some birthday money to pay for, but I was promised the trip of a lifetime by the holiday rep, so it was a small price to pay. The lobby boasted an open-air design. The enormous space had pristine marble floors, palm trees in deep marble planters, shallow water features running the full length of the reception area, and an abundance of handcraftedwooden accents; from benches and tables, to pieces of artwork so grand they could’ve been on loan from the Louvre. It was breathtaking.
The staff ushered us to the first available check-in desk. We were offered complimentary champagne, and the process was so efficient we were shown to our rooms within five minutes. As requested, our rooms were adjacent on the seventh floor. I preferred a higher floor, purely for the view. Sarah had the luxury of her father’s business trips and his ample collection of points for different hotel schemes. It meant the hotel cost her almost nothing and made Billie and me feel less guilty about being able to split the cost of our room. A room to myself sounded blissful, but my bank balance disagreed. I would instead have to endure Billie’s sharp, rattling snore and her remarkably regular bowel movements, but I would be rewarded with mosquito repellent and tea bags—every cloud.
Our room was in block two of the hotel. There was a connecting walkway from the reception area to the elevators where we waited patiently. The staff elevator came and went, but the young woman inside was busy with room service trollies. The second elevator arrived; it was full.
“I’m sorry. It’s a busy time,” the bellboy said. He didn’t interact a great deal; his English was limited, but he had a kind face. I watched the third elevator count up from the first floor.
Sarah had already given up; she sat on one of the wooden accent chairs. Billie was preoccupied with thebroken zip on her bag, and I watched the number two blur into three as the elevator came to a stop. The bellboy was already a respectable two metres away from the doors. I stepped back conscious I didn’t want to crowd anyone exiting the confined space.
When the metal doors parted the elevator had just one passenger, a woman no older than thirty. She leant against the mirror with one foot crossed over the other. Weirdly, she had on a pair of sunglasses of a large aviator style that covered her eyes and the majority of her cheekbones. She had on a tropical print strapless jumpsuit in turquoise; the wide full-length bottoms elongated her legs. She was frantically searching through the small brown woven bag she had in her hand. She didn’t look up; she just leant over and hit the arrow button on the elevator control panel.
I opened my mouth to protest, but the doors immediately closed.
“Did she just—” Billie looked directly at the bellboy.
“Sorry, I will call another elevator.” He hurried over to press the button before saying something short and sharp into the microphone attached to his collar.
“Well, that was rude.” I seethed.
Who the hell was that girl? She had the full elevator to herself, and she abruptly refused to share. I folded my arms across my chest.
“That’s unacceptable, right?” I glared at Billie. Sarah wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention.
“Absolutely.”
If I wasn’t so utterly irritated by the woman’s lack of respect, I might’ve found her attractive. No, I refused to let that be my overriding feeling in that moment. She was rude and clearly quite obnoxious. There wasn’t even an attempt to apologise; she could’ve at least pretended shedidn’t mean to hit the close button, but no, she just stood there like a statue in her perfectly tight jumpsuit.
We eventually made our way to the seventh floor. There was a bitter taste in my mouth after the encounter at the elevator. I tried to shake it, but as the bellboy showed us our luxurious room, there was a feeling of displeasure. I couldn’t help it, ever since I was a little girl I struggled to emote less, to let things slide, and to understand not every uncouth circumstance or ill-mannered occurrence was aimed personally at me.
When the twelve-year-old boy in my maths class told me the circumference of my brain was no larger than a pea, because I was stupid, I cried. Every maths lesson after, I relived what he said, and even years later I felt sorry for the eleven-year-old me who had to endure the cruel taunt.
I probably needed therapy.
The bathroom was spectacular; it had a full-length mirror that filled the wall completely, a double vanity to the right, and a large walk-in rain shower. The whole bathroom was covered in a dark soapstone. There was a wooden sliding door allowing some privacy when needed from the main bedroom.
“There’s an incense stick... there’s actually a fucking incense stick,” I squealed.
“Okay,” Billie yawned.
“It’s the little things.” I grabbed the small box from the wooden tray and struck a match. The room was immediately filled with a sensual, enveloping halo.
“I’m sensing Jasmine, blackcurrant, maybe a bit of patchouli.” I inhaled the essence.
“You’re wasted in real estate.” Billie smirked.
The bellboy continued to give us the tour of the room. He pointed out the safe, buried deep in the drawer of the built in wardrobes; they took up the whole right side of the room. There was ample space. The room came equipped with a steamer and an iron, in case you didn’t like using a steamer. And my favourite holiday necessity—a white robe.
“This one looks soft.” I ran my hand down the length of the bathrobe; it felt fresh. The embroidery on the right side of the chest was impressive.
“The room is about one thousand square feet. You have a fully stocked minibar here. The tablet by the bed will tell you all you need to know about the hotel amenities. You can order room service and minibar items from here.” He pointed towards the tablet. The king-size bed was the centrepiece. It was surrounded by accent lights and various modern accessories that created so much contrast. The room had a rustic character I adored, but it felt equally snug and serene.
“Hats off to the designer,” I said.
The bellboy flicked a small switch behind the large concrete lamp on the nightstand.
“This is the switch for your electric blinds.”
