Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
I can’t deny her accusation this time around, so I focus on the brochure she gave me. Although it is more about the charity swimsuit competition occurring today, the hotelier’s business name under the sponsorship section can’t be denied—Ivanov Industries—much less the name of one of the judges.
“Maksim is judging this event?” My eyes pop when my sluggish head finally absorbs all the facts. “His family owns this hotel?”
Zoya looks at me like I didn’t ace my college admission test. “Did that not click when he got us into a closed restaurant in under three seconds?”
“No.” I hate admitting I’m an idiot, so finalizing my reply takes me a minute. “I thought the hostess wanted to sleep with him.”
“She did.” Zoya laughs like anything she says is funny. “But I doubt all the servers did. Well, not all the male ones, anyway.”
I stop hitting her with the stink eye to rival all stink eyes when Aleena says, “You know Maksim Ivanov?”
My reply stings my ego more than I care to admit. “Not exactly.”
“She’s being modest,” Zoya interrupts, hating my inability to gloat even more than my inability not to apologize. “She saved his mother’s life.”
Aleena steps closer, and for once, is more interested in me than her sister. “You saved Irina’s life?”
When Zoya nods, I mimic her movement—just more hesitantly.
I don’t get the “wow” I’m anticipating.
Confusion is the gasoline of Aleena’s interrogation. “When?”
“Two weeks ago.” When I glare at Zoya, silently pleading for her to shut her gigantic trap, she deflects Aleena’s interest in a patient of mine by asking if she has any last-minute bachelorette party wishes. “I’m hoping to finalize all the plans today, so speak now or forever hold your peace.”
When Aleena’s focus immediately shifts, I mouth my thanks to Zoya. Although I would love to ease Aleena’s confusion, I can’t. My patients’ medical records aren’t for public consumption. Accidentally telling Zoya Mrs. Ivanov was a patient of mine during my purge is bad enough. I don’t want more wood tossed onto the dumpster fire I could face if anyone finds out I broke practician/patient confidentiality.
My hunt for a frumpy T-shirt is interrupted when Aleena’s head bridesmaid’s perfume tickles my nose. She’s a little excessive with how much spray she uses, and it has me wondering if that’s why she suffers so many sinus issues. “Weird question, but do you know if the elevators are monitored?”
“The elevators in the hotel?” Footage of Maksim shoving my hand down the front of his pants rolls through my head like a movie when Shevi nods. “Um. I’m not sure.” When her nose screws up like a rabbit, I say, “We could check?”
Ignorant to the fact I could require her support more than she needs mine if the elevators are monitored, Shevi says, “That would be great. Thank you so much.”
When she gets straight down to business, I rummage through my carry-on like it is double its size. I could have sworn I packed three baggy tees, but can’t find one. There’s nothing in my bag but a skimpy pair of panties and a clubbing outfit not respectable for daytime activities. Everything else has vanished.
“Are you coming?” Shevi asks, shouting to project her voice through the massive living room separating us.
“Yes. I just…” I swallow the rest of my reply before marching to the foyer. I’ll have more pressing matters to handle than looking like I’m going for a swim if cameras are in the elevator. I could face charges for being a public nuisance. Or worse, committing a lewd act in public. A criminal record will have me stripped of my medical license before it is officially mine.
When Shevi races into the hallway, I follow her, clueless that I’m stepping into a trap until my foot is almost snared by the rapid close of the suite’s door, and I bump into a snickering, heavy-breasted lady.
“Oh no,” Zoya says, her pout as fake as the sincerity in her tone. “You left our room in only a bikini, and our keycard is still inside. Whatever will we do?”
When Shevi backs away with her hands in the air, mumbling that Aleena and Zoya forced her to join their ruse, I shift my focus to my soon-to-be ex-best friend. “This isn’t funny. We’re not freshmen anymore.” I step closer before seething through clenched teeth, “Let me back into our room.”
Zoya tries to pull off the picture of innocence. “I would if I could, but I can’t.”
It isn’t a ruse she can pull off.
She looks like a cat who caught a mouse.
“Zoya…” The shortness of my reply can’t hide the scratchiness of my throat. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating. I wear scrubs twenty-four-seven for a reason. They hide a lot of skin.
Zoya laughs when I pat her down like she’s smuggling narcotics. “I honestly don’t have it.”