Not Yet Yours

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Harriet

L iam pulls into a parking space in the huge parking lot at the front of the hotel. I get out of the car and stretch, happy to finally be able to move around a bit. My back cracks as I stretch it and I shake my arms and legs out and my elbows and knees crack too. Liam laughs from beside me where he stands stretching too.

“You sound like you’re in bits,” he says. “Do all of your bones crack like that?”

I shrug one shoulder and then I interlace my fingers together and push outward, making each one of my knuckles crack in turn. Liam winces and I laugh.

“You did ask,” I point out.

“I just wanted a yes or no answer, not a live demonstration,” he says.

“Ah. You should be more specific,” I say. I look around as I am talking, and I spot a large restaurant across the street from the hotel. Liam said on the way up here that the hotel is across from the party venue, and I nod toward the restaurant. “Is that where the party is being held?”

“Yes,” Liam says. “We’re actually half an hour too early for checking into the hotel. Do you want to go over and have a quick drink and check out the bar?”

I nod. I am pretty thirsty, and a nice cold drink sounds great. Plus, it will be nice to have a bit of Dutch courage if I’m accosted by Dorothy and the rest of the family once check-in opens. Liam and I head across the street and go into the restaurant.

Inside the small entrance nook are four doors. The two in front of us are marked ladies’ and gents’, the one to the left is marked restaurant, and the one to the right is marked reserved. Liam points to the right.

“That’s where the party will be,” he says. I start to walk toward the room. “I don’t think we’re allowed in there yet.”

“Just a quick peek,” I say. “Come on. Live a little.”

Liam shakes his head, but he follows me to the reservation room door, and we slip inside. The room is massive but other than chairs, tables, and a big dance floor, there isn’t a lot to see. The decorations won’t be put up until tomorrow and at the moment, the reservation room is just an empty room. I’m pleased to see it’s nice and big though, so it won’t feel cramped when the party is underway.

We slip back out of the room, go into the restaurant, and head over to the bar. The bar is about half of the size of the restaurant, but it’s early afternoon and it’s pretty quiet. A family sits at one of the tables eating a meal and two or three other tables are taken up by couples and small groups of friends. We go to the bar and the bartender smiles and comes over to us.

“I’ll have a Bud Light please, and…” Liam says, and he nods toward me.

“A vodka and tonic please,” I say.

The bartender gets the drinks and Liam pays her, and we go off to a small table beside the bar. We take our seats and I take a long sip of my drink. It’s lovely and cold and fizzy and refreshing.

“Easy there tiger,” Liam says. “Is the thought of being my girlfriend really that bad?”

I laugh and shake my head.

“I was just thirsty,” I say. I nod toward the entrance back in the direction of the hotel. “So do you own this hotel too then?”

Liam smiles sheepishly.

“I guess you found out I own the hotel Cullen and Max got married in,” he says. I nod. “I’m sorry for lying but it feels so braggy saying we can do what we like because it’s my hotel.”

“It’s ok,” I say. “I get it. It would have been pretty cringe at the moment.”

“And to answer your question, no, I don’t own this hotel. My Aunt Dorothy decided against using one of my hotels that she wouldn’t have had to pay for in favor of this one,” Liam says.

“Wow. How bad is yours that she didn’t even want it for free?” I tease him.

“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it,” Liam says with a laugh. “No seriously, I get why she wanted this one. It’s so close to the venue. My nearest one from here is like a forty-minute drive away.”

“Ah yeah, that is a bit far to drive after a party isn’t it,” I agree. “How many hotels do you own? Or is that too cringe of a question?”

“No, it’s fine,” Liam smiles. “About three hundred right now, I think. They’re all over the states and I’m looking to expand into other countries within the next few years.”

“Well, if you need a fake girlfriend to come and look at all of these exotic locations with you, I’m most likely available,” I laugh.

“Don’t laugh. I might hold you to that,” he says.

“Great. No backsies get me again,” I say. Liam frowns in confusion and I laugh. “It’s just something Max and I say when one of us agrees to something and then tries to wriggle out of it.”

“Ah ok. No backsies then,” Liam says. I stick my tongue out at him. “Real mature.”

“Well, you only asked for a fake girlfriend. If you want mature, you have to ask for a fake wife,” I say.

“Nah I’ll take the fun girlfriend any day,” Liam says.

“No backsies,” I say quickly, and we both laugh.

I don’t know why I thought things would be weird with Liam and me. Even when he first picked me up it was fine. He wound me up about how much luggage I might have and then he was pleasantly surprised to see I had only one medium-sized bag, which I think is perfectly acceptable for a full weekend away. On the way here, we chatted about all kinds of things and again, there wasn’t anything awkward about it, not even when we were lulled into quiet moments between topics. I am actually glad I agreed to this. If it stays this way all weekend, it’s going to be a lot of fun.

I swallow the last mouthful of my drink and Liam checks the time.

“We should be able to check in now if you’re ready,” he says.

I nod and he finishes up the last of his drink and stands up. I get up and take my glass and his bottle back to the bar. I rejoin Liam who looks at me in confusion.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you looking for a job or something?” Liam asks. “Taking the glasses to the bar.”

“Oh, it’s just habit. Until two weeks ago, I was a barista in a coffee shop, and I was always so grateful to the people who made an effort to bring their cups back when they were done so I always make a point of doing it for others when I can,” I say.

“Fair enough,” Liam says. “Why did you leave the coffee shop?”

“How do you know I left?” I say as we reach the door to the restaurant and Liam pulls it open and gestures for me to go through. I nod my thanks, step through, and wait for him to answer me.

“You said you were a barista up until two weeks ago,” Liam says.

“Oh, shit yeah I did, didn’t I?” I say with a laugh feeling a slight flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “I started my own business.”

“Doing what?” Liam asks.

We cross the street and I try to think of a way to change the subject without Liam thinking I’m being a dick. I can’t think of anything and by the time we reach the other side of the street, the pause has been long enough for it to be weird.

“What’s wrong? You look embarrassed. Have you started an Only Fans or something?” Liam grins.

“No. God no, nothing like that,” I say. Although in a way, my sculpting is similar in that I feel like I am putting myself out there bare for all to see whenever I list a new piece for sale. In some ways, I think it is more intimate than just stripping off and shaking my ass. I’m not about to say that to Liam though and have him think I’m some hippy artist type. “Actually, I make sculptures and have started selling them. I don’t tell people generally because then I get a whole lecture about how art doesn’t make anyone any money until they’re dead and how I’m wasting my time and I’ll end up back at the coffee shop within a few months.”

“Well, I was going to ask if I could see some of them, but yeah, I get what you’re saying. So many people are quick to try and kill other people’s dreams. I got the same kind of shit when I bought my first hotel. It was in desperate need of a remodel, and everyone said it would bankrupt me and I’d regret it. And that’s not even artistic. As soon as anything creative is mentioned, it’s like people just want to break your spirit. It’s as if because they haven’t achieved anything, they think no one else can,” Liam says.

I look at him in surprise, shocked that he not only gets it but has experienced something similar himself.

“Is that a yes then?” he says.

“I don’t… sorry what was the question?” I laugh.

“Can I see some of your stuff?” Liam says.

“Sure,” I agree.

“If I like what I see, I’ll keep you in mind for decorations for any new hotels I acquire,” he says.

“No backsies,” I say, and we laugh.

We reach Liam’s car, and he nods toward the hotel.

“Do you want to go and check us in while I get the stuff out of the car? The booking will be under my name,” he says.

I nod and saunter off into the hotel. The reception area is nice. It’s large and airy and ultra-modern, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like something untouchable. The vase of sunflowers on the reception desk and the magazines on the glass coffee table next to some low white leather couches give it a more homely feel and make the white, glass, and chrome everywhere seem less clinical.

I approach the check-in desk and the immaculate woman behind it smiles out at me.

“Hello and welcome to The Monique Hotel. How can I help you?” she says.

“Reservation for Liam Monroe,” I say, returning her smile.

She clicks on the computer and smiles again. She turns around and opens a drawer, flicks through the things inside it, and comes out with a key card in her hand. She holds it out to me.

“You’re in room two thirteen,” she says. “The elevators are just through that door and you’re on the second floor. Turn right when you get out of the elevator. The restaurant, bar, and pool opening times are all in your room. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any other questions.”

She seems to be waiting for me to ask her something, but I’m too angry to think of something to ask her and it’s not her fault that I’m angry, so I don’t want to take it out on her.

“Thank you,” I say instead.

“Enjoy your stay,” she trills.

I move away from the desk after giving what I hope looks like a normal, genuine smile, and Liam comes through the door as I debate sitting down to wait for him. That answers that one and I storm over to him. He smiles at me but then he must see my expression because his smile fades away and is replaced by a frown.

“Are you ok?” he says, pausing and putting the bags down.

“Not really,” I snapped, slamming the key card against his chest. He takes it, looks at it, and then looks at me. “One room? It’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it? What, we sleep together once so you think you have a right to assume we will do it again?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Liam says. “I didn’t make the booking, my Aunt Dorothy did. She’s obviously assumed we would want to share a room, that's all.”

“Oh,” I say, the anger leaving me in a rush. I feel kind of deflated and not just a little bit stupid for my outburst now.

“Let me go and book another room,” Liam says.

“No,” I say before he can walk away. “It’s ok. It will seem suspicious if we have two rooms. I just overreacted. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Liam asks and I nod. “Ok. Well obviously, I will take the couch so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

I nod and turn away as Liam picks the bags back up. I led him toward the elevator. We get in and I press the button for the second floor, trying not to think about the last time Liam and I were in an elevator together. I think he might be thinking about the same thing because the air between us seems to thicken and fizz and when I look at him, he is looking at me, but he looks away quickly before I can catch his eye. I smile to myself and then the elevator pings loudly to announce its arrival and the doors open and we spill out. We turn right as directed and then we walk along the corridor.

“Twice,” Liam says to me.

“Huh?” I ask.

“When you were giving me your little speech back there you said we slept together once. It was twice we slept together. I just thought I’d remind you,” Liam says.

I snort out a laugh.

“Well thanks for that,” I say.

“Any time,” Liam says, and he grins at me, I shake my head, but I can’t help but return his smile.

We reach the room, Liam gives me the key card, and I unlock the door and we go inside. It’s a lovely big room with a big king-sized bed in the center with lovely crisp white sheets and pillowcases. There is a large wardrobe and a chest of drawers plus a bedside cabinet on either side of the bed. There are two comfy-looking armchairs on either side of a small table that holds a coffee pot with some tea and coffee sachets and two cups. There’s a dressing table with a stool and a mirror and a flat-screen TV on the wall. There’s a door which I figure leads to our bathroom. It has everything we could want. Except for a couch.

Liam is looking around the room and he seems to realize that there is no couch at the same time I do.

“Oh well, I guess the floor won’t be so bad for two nights,” he says. “At least it’s a carpet and not tiles right?”

I make a non-committal sound of agreement because, in the back of my mind, I already know that Liam will be sharing the bed with me tonight, but I am not quite ready to say it out loud just yet. That will make it all too real.