Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
The body positivity movement has claimed me. Which is cool. However, most monarchists think me fat and common. Same goes for many of Alistair’s stans. The few that are shipping us are being buried under the avalanche of online hate. Anonymous sources say the king is horrified. Again. (You would think he had better things to do.) There has been no sign of Alistair himself, so they make his absence a statement. He is embarrassed. He is heartbroken. He is in an emergency meeting with his people. And my personal favorite, he and I have made up and eloped to Mexico. How exciting. Nothing new to report about Daria Moore. Though of course there is plenty of speculation. And Lady Helena declined to comment, but she did flip the bird at a photographer from her front patio. What a woman.
She was right about how understanding what parasites the paparazzi are requires firsthand experience. There’s nothing like having your life reduced to clickbait. Let alone the whole damn world having an opinion about you. So gross and weird.
I have to convince myself to get out of the bath. Staying in it feels safe, though my skin is going to shit. I climb out and wrap myself up in a fluffy white robe. It’s been a while since I stayed at a hotel. All I have with me are the contents of my purse. I washed my panties, bra, socks, and tee with soap in the basin and hung them on towel racks. Happily, local stores can deliver whatever else I need.
This is not so bad. No sign of any ghosts yet. However, if I were a deceased Hollywood star, I wouldn’t show up until after midnight. It would almost be common to haunt the halls before then. Make people work for the scares by staying up late. I am determined to give my poor liver a day off. But I can still order room service and read a book on my cell. I am perfectly fine dealing with this all on my own. No one else needs to be bothered by this bullshit. I’ll do the sensible thing and hide away for a day or two, then get on with my wish list. All good.
* * *
“Yes! Success.”
Two whole bowling pins topple noisily onto the wooden lane, and I do a dance in my borrowed shoes. It’s important to celebrate your own small triumphs. The bartender said the speakeasy is usually busy, but not tonight. Lucky for me. Though it is past eleven on a weeknight, and this is LA, and some people will party any time of the day or night.
The Hollywood Roosevelt has several bars and restaurants. This one is an old gaming room on the mezzanine level. Lots of polished wood and a wealth of liquor bottles lined up on the shelves behind the bar. And two bowling lanes, which is great. I have never bowled before. As demonstrated by my current performance.
The truth is, I got lonely in my room. A good book is usually more than enough to keep me company, but my mind kept wandering. Being stuck in a hotel room, no matter how nice, got old fast. Down here, however, the vibe is good, and the music is loud. The pins are set up again, and I stretch my neck, pick up the bowling ball, and do my thing. Such style and grace. The ball unfortunately heads straight into the gutter.
“That was close,” says a familiar voice behind me. And it’s accompanied by clapping.
I spin to face him with wide eyes. “Ali. Hi.”
Alistair’s arms fall back to his sides, and we stare warily at one another. He’s wearing a black suit and a white shirt with the top two buttons open. Which should be illegal. On the right man, tailoring is such a turn-on. The way the suit jacket frames the breadth of his shoulders. The general air of formality, capability, and control. I have a boss kink now, apparently.
I don’t think I realized how much I wanted to see him again. Not until this moment. He makes my heart do a weird fluttery thing. It can’t be healthy.
“Wasn’t easy to find you,” he says. “A journalist friend helped me out.”
I sit down on a nearby chair and start unlacing my bowling shoes. “You’re friends with one of them?”
“They’re not all bad.”
“If they know where I am, where are they?” I ask. “Or am I no longer of interest?”
“You chose a good hotel. Security has been sending any press or lurkers on their way.”
“Hmm.” I give him a long look. The butterflies in my stomach need to get better taste. It’s a pity you can’t turn off your libido. Have some downtime now and then from any feelings in the heart and/or pants. “I thought you said you were busy. Why are you here, Ali?”