Close To You by Kara Isaac

Author:Kara Isaac [Isaac, Kara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Howard Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

“I’M COM— ARGH!” ALLIE TRIPPED over her laptop cord and barely missed clocking herself on the bedside table as she tried to get to her phone before it went to voice mail.

She’d always had some klutzy tendencies, but since her day traipsing around the wilderness with Jackson, it was like what little coordination she did possess had gone on strike.

Walking into doors, pouring juice into her lap, dropping stuff—you name it, she’d probably done it.

She reached up from her prone position on the carpet, grabbed her phone off the bedside table, and answered the call without even looking at the screen. “Hello?”

Too late, she realized her mistake. Please don’t be Derek. That was the last thing she needed when she was still trying to navigate her train-wrecked emotions.

“Hello. Is this Allison Shire of Southern Luxury Tours?”

“It is.”

“Ms. Shire, it’s John Prescott here, from the Museum Hotel.”

“Oh, hi. What did one of them leave behind this time?”

An awkward silence, then a clearing of the throat. “Well, it’s not so much what someone left behind, as what seems to be missing.”

She pressed her head back against the carpet. Of course it was. “Another robe? Just add it to the charge for the room and we’ll sort it out.” It still surprised Allie that so many wealthy people seemed to have a thing for nicking hotel robes. It was why they had a standing order with all the hotels they stayed at to add any onto the bill.

“No, I’m happy to report all robes are accounted for.”

Allie pushed herself up off the floor and leaned against her bed. What now? So far the best she’d had was when a guest had stolen all the lightbulbs out of every room he’d stayed in. “Okay. Give it to me.”

“A lamp.”

Allie almost fell back over. “Excuse me?”

“One of the bedside lamps.”

It didn’t beat the lightbulbs, but it was up there. Especially if her memory served her right. “But aren’t they quite large?”

“They are.”

Well, she had to give a certain tweenager points for creativity. “Let me guess. Esther Johnson’s room.” Allie didn’t even want to know what other ill-gotten souvenirs she might have stashed in her bright-pink suitcase.

A hint of a smothered laugh came down the line. “Correct. I realize this is a little awkward, but we’d quite like it back if possible.”

Allie sighed. Given what hotels charged for pre-loved robes, she didn’t even want to think about what a designer lamp would be billed at. “I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

They closed their conversation and Allie added find stolen lamp and courier back to Wellington to her mental to-do list.

She’d just gotten to her feet and put her phone back on the table when it rang again. There was more? “Yes.” The one word came out exasperated. Harassed.

“Hello. Is this Dr. Allison Shire?” The accent was English. Male. Proper. Older. Her posture suddenly got better without her even thinking about it.

“This is she.”

“Dr. Shire, it’s Dr. Everett here. You may not remember me, but I was one of your thesis markers.

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