Writing Our Song: A Billionaire Romance by South Emma

Author:South, Emma [South, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The next thing I knew the phone was ringing and, when I opened my eyes, the light streaming in through a crack in the curtains told me that morning had arrived. I fumbled for the handset and closed my eyes again once I had it held to my ear.

“Mmph… hello?”

“Good morning, Ms. Hampton,” said an impossibly chirpy voice at the other end, “this is Lisa from the front desk downstairs. Mr. Holt has asked us to contact you to check if you are still planning on joining him for breakfast? If so he says he’ll wait.”

“Oh. Uh… yeah. Tell him yes, I’ll be down soon.”

“Thank you, ma’am, we’ll pass that on.”

“Thanks… hey wait! Hello?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Uh… where exactly is breakfast?”

“Mr. Holt is being served in the FISH restaurant on level 1, that’s one up from the reception area where you checked in yesterday evening.”

“OK, thanks again,”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

I put the handset down and rubbed my eyes. The world still looked a bit blurry when I opened them, so I rubbed again and was finally able to make some more sense of my surroundings.

I’d been too tired to care last night, but the room was easily the most luxurious I had ever slept in. It was somewhat minimalist, as most hotel rooms were I supposed, but everything was immaculate and what furniture and art there was all looked expensive and as good as new.

When I swung my feet out of bed I wiggled my toes in the soft carpet, contrasting it to the somewhat threadbare coverings of my own apartment, before peeking out the window. The harbor view was beautiful with the sun already high in the sky and occasionally hiding behind puffs of clouds that looked like they had no intention of drenching anybody in rain.

I pulled on some clothes and was halfway out the door when I decided to have a look at myself in the mirror. I was thankful for the afterthought, the left side of my hair was standing up like I’d been electrocuted, and the right side was flat as a pancake. A vigorous two-handed ruffle evened it out somewhat.

The restaurant was easy enough to find but a single glance around the room told me that my t-shirt and shorts had left me woefully underdressed for the kind of place this was. Thankfully there weren’t many people there, I wasn’t sure if I could take many more full-body-scans from people looking down their noses at me.

Jeremy fit right in, of course, wearing a suit that was begging to have coffee poured on it. He even had a cup steaming away in front of him, which he was absentmindedly stirring as he looked at a newspaper from back home.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize this was a formal occasion,” I said.

“It’s not, don’t worry about it. Please, have a seat,” he gestured at the chair opposite him.

I sat down and looked for a menu but didn’t spot one, my stomach rumbling as I caught the scent of bacon from the people sitting closest to us.

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