Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
He scowls. “I’m sorry about that. We’ll have to get you a new, unlisted number. Be sure you only give it out to people you trust.”
“Okay.” Another facet of my new life I hadn’t thought about.
“But now …” he smiles. “Let’s get you to the spa.”
Thirty minutes later, Bliss and I find ourselves side-by-side, face down on massage tables in a darkened room inside The Golden Star’s spa. Soft music with flutes and nature sounds is playing, and the blended scent of peppermint, lavender, and grapefruit fills the air. The massage therapists recommended the essential oils specifically for hangover relief, and I’m feeling better by the minute.
“This is going to be your life now,” Bliss says at one point, sounding extremely blissed out.
“I don’t know about that.” I’d never had a massage before today, and it feels incredibly indulgent, almost to the point of making me uncomfortable, like I don’t deserve this kind of attention.
When the service is over, my body feels completely relaxed, and I could easily drift off to sleep if I didn’t have to get off the table, but we find out Conal scheduled more than just massages for us.
After we wrap ourselves in thick spa robes and slide into the provided slippers, we’re led to another room for pedicures, followed by manicures. I feel like a princess when we’re done.
Two members of the Pythons’ security team—I have hazy memories of them from last night—meet Bliss and me at the spa when we’re done and escort us back up to the suite, where the three Curran brothers are waiting.
Conal greets me with a kiss, and I can’t help but wonder if that will ever feel normal. It’s wonderful, but still doesn’t seem real.
“How was the spa?” he asks.
“Really great. Thank you.”
“Maybe next time I’ll join you.” My hand is in his, and he gives it a squeeze. “Are the two of you ready for lunch?”
Again accompanied by security and using staff elevators, the five of us make our way to an elegant restaurant in the hotel, where we’re seated at a round table in a private dining room with a view.
A server gives us menus, but tells us we’re welcome to request anything, even if it’s not on the menu, and they’ll do their best to provide it.
“Must be nice living this way,” Bliss says after the server leaves.
“It has its moments,” Rafe says. “Good and bad.”
“The good outweighs the bad,” Bron says. “Do you ladies like lobster?”
As Bliss shrugs, I say, “I’ve never tried it.”
“Do you like shrimp?” When I nod, he says, “You should give the lobster a try, or even better, have the steak and lobster.”
“I don't know if my stomach’s ready for steak yet, but I'll try the lobster,” I tell him.
“They’re going to bring you a bib,” Rafe warns, making Bliss giggle.
In the end, she and I both order lobster tail, which is served with a baked potato and asparagus. Conal and Rafe get steaks, while Bron is served the fanciest burger I’ve ever seen, made of wagyu beef and topped with caramelized onions and truffle aioli. He offers me a bite, but I decline on behalf of my stomach, though it does look good.
Sure enough, Bliss and I are given bibs. Bron helps my friend with hers, while Conal ties mine at the back of my neck, his fingers lighting me up when they brush against my bare skin.
The food is incredibly delicious, and I’m grateful that I can enjoy it, even though my stomach still feels a bit hesitant.
As we eat, servers quietly come and go through a sliding panel door, but when we’re almost done, there’s a loud knock immediately followed by someone opening the door with rough haste.
As a lean man with thick blond hair comes in, Conal jumps to his feet. “Alan, we’re having a private meal here.”
“I see that. Is this why you’ve been too busy to take my calls or answer my texts?” He looks around the room with a fake smile fixed in place. His eyes pause on both me and Bliss, and he gives us curt nods of greeting.
“It’s a holiday, Alan, and not only that, you’re interrupting our wedding brunch. I’m sorry, but you’re not invited.”
The man hesitates, mouth open, and I’m sure he’s about to argue, but Conal starts toward him, and one of the security guys appears in the doorway, placing a hand on Alan’s shoulder.
“Fine. I’ll leave, but I expect a call early tomorrow morning. I’d like you all to be on it.” He aims this demand at Conal, Rafe, and Bron, who appear unconcerned.
Once he’s gone, Conal apologizes for the interruption.
“Who was that, your manager?” I ask.
“PR manager. He’s a prick.”
“Is something wrong?” As soon as I ask, it hits me. “Oh, is he upset about the marriage?”
Conal waves away my concern. “Don’t pay him any attention. He’s always like that. Who wants dessert?”