Page 7 of Forbidden Fruit (Sweet Treats 7)

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Kristy

Huge, blubbering sobs erupt from my throat. Snot is trailing down my nose, and my cheeks are red and blotched. I have to get out of here without anyone seeing me because that would be the ultimate humiliation. Imagine it. Kristy Landauer embarrassed at prom by her Prom King boyfriend and her conniving former best friend. I’d shrivel up and die.

But how do I get out of this hotel unseen? There must be a back passageway somewhere. Desperately, I press the button for the basement, and cry piteously as the elevator descends. Finally, it comes to a halt and the doors swing open.

But this isn’t your usual basement. I was hoping to see a cellar or a kitchen of some sort, but only the service elevators go there. Drat. I’m in another endless series of hallways again, and the various double doors in the hallway seem to lead to huge, empty ballrooms. How big is this hotel? How do I get out?

I begin wandering aimlessly, and my shoes pinch, but I ignore the pain. I dash this way and that, flinging open doors while sobbing my eyes out. I probably look crazy, come to think of it. My hair’s come undone from its updo, and my face is red and patchy. I probably look like Mr. Rochester’s first wife from Jane Eyre, who was locked away in the attic for losing her mind.

But finding an exit is no joke. I feel like I’m in the hotel from hell, where I keep running from door to door but there’s no way to get out. Any moment now, I’m going to come upon some huge monster that rips my head off with a terrifying growl, spraying blood and guts all over the place.

Suddenly, it happens. I collide headfirst into a wall of some sort and let out a blood-curling scream. The monster’s here! I look up, expecting to see a seven-headed hydra with hissing tongues dripping venomous acid. But instead, a man stands before me, looking bemused. He’s enormous, which is why I thought I’d hit a wall, and his blue eyes are very clear and reassuring.

“Hey,” he says mildly. “Are you okay?”

I can’t help but notice that the tone of his voice is melodious and quite soothing, despite the fact that I’m on the verge of panic. I try to get myself in hand, but anxiety and fear overwhelm me and I let out a blood-curling scream anyways. Every cell of my being is infused with rage, hurt, and anger, and I can’t keep it in anymore. I open my mouth and scream again, my lungs bellowing as tears stream down my face.

“Okay, I see that you’re not okay,” says the man kindly, taking my arm. “Why don’t we sit down over here?”

We stumble over to an ornate chair placed against the wall, and I sit in it blindly, staring straight ahead. Fortunately, there’s no one in the vicinity because I must have entered an unused portion of the hotel. I guess they have dozens of ballrooms, and at any one time, only a few are being rented out.

But still. What the hell is going on? What kind of nightmare am I trapped in? The man stands by me, and hands me a bottle of water.

“Here, take a sip,” he offers. “It’s already open, but I promise, I don’t have cooties.”

With a trembling hand, I take the bottle and drink some water. The liquid is cool going down my throat and I feel it descending like a soothing balm over my aching soul. Shit. I must be in really bad shape.

Meanwhile, the man pulls another chair over and sits next to me. For the first time, I notice how enormous he is. He must be about six four, with black hair, eyes so blue they’re almost cobalt, and a deep tan. His features are strong and proud, with a Roman nose and a firm jaw. Plus, he’s dressed in a tux, and it emphasizes his wide shoulders and long legs. Oh no. He must be here for a fancy event, and I just ruined it for him.

“Thanks,” I manage, holding the bottle back out to him. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says with a smile. “You can keep it. I can get another bottle. But you want to tell me what’s wrong? No pressure, of course.”

I shake my head ruefully, wiping at my tears.

“I don’t want to ruin your night,” I say, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “You should go back to your event.”

He throws me a lop-sided grin.

“You’re not going to ruin my night,” he says. “Trust me, my night has already been ruined enough. It’s fucking crazy, that’s what I say.”

I shoot him a long look.

“Really? You’re having a tough night too?”

He nods, his blue eyes darkening.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, sweet girl. Anything you throw at me couldn’t make things worse, so feel free to share. Hell, I’ll probably share my woes as well. We can commiserate in this deserted hallway together,” he says, looking around.

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