that, he is a 20! But that doesn’t mean I have to go there. It would just be a waste of time anyway, there is no way he likes me, he was probably just drunk at the time, so thought I looked better than I do, yeah that was probably it, he won’t even recognise me if I bump into him again. Oh man, what if I bump into him again? This whole thing is just too awkward!
A sharp ring snaps me out of my thoughts, the phone, no it can’t be.
“Hello?” I try hard to sound carefree
“Hey, this is Carlos, I just had a call from your room, Mrs. Mavers right?” now that’s how you sound carefree.
“Umm…yes…sorry I…I err…thought you weren’t in” a grasp for a plausible explanation as to why I slammed the phone down on him.
“Oh, that’s OK, I was hoping you were calling about dinner” if he realises I changed my mind mid-call he is not letting on.
“Well, yes I was as it goes” regaining a little of my composure, “and it s M s Mavers….Kaitlin” why did I say that? Being married would have been the perfect get out clause if this dinner gets too steamy.
“I am sorry , M s Mavers….Kaitlin, you have a beautiful name” the glee in his voice is palpable. “It is maybe a little late for tonight, plus I have some business to attend to, but are you free tomorrow? I could pick you up from your room at Seven?” His accent is addictive, but I can’t quite place it; his English is perfect, the pronunciation spot on, but there is a certain twang to it that suggests it may not be his first language.
“Seven, yes that should be fine, I guess I’ll see you then.” At this stage I am coming across a little too formal, stern even.
“Until then, buenos noches Senorita” I just melt on the spot, replacing the receiver I bring my knees up and hug them the school girl grin plastered across my face, he is sooo dreamy!
Chapter 3
Routing through my suitcase, I know I put them in here somewhere, throwing aside various clothes in search of my shorts and t-shirt. I had originally packed them to wear as pyjamas, but needs must; if I am having this dinner tonight, I’m going to have to go to the gym first. I know realistically even if I am in there all day it won’t make any immediate difference, but I’m hoping that the thought at least will boost my confidence a little.
Pulling on the faded cotton, polyester mix shorts and slightly stretched and out of shape t-shirt I eye myself in the mirror, no wonder I only wear these to bed. I pull the hem of the t-shirt to one side and tie it in a small knot, at least it hides just how askew it is; there is nothing I can do about the shorts however. Plus the only shoes I have are the holed, but comfy, old trainers I wore on the flight.
Pulling the hair band off my wrist I tug my hair back into a scruffy bun, then clip the straggling bits up out of the way. One last glance at the mirror, this will just have to do.
The gym is tiny, but has just about every machine you could need crammed into it. There are a few die-hard athletic types in there, pushing weights, with their sizeable muscles rippling under the strain. They pause only for a second as I walk by, each giving me their own questionable looks. Sorry boys, but I’ve got my eye on a bigger prize, I think to myself, smiling. It’s all about the mindset, so Caz keeps telling me; think confident, be confident!
Starting with the treadmill, I switch my ipod to a racy little dance mix and off we go.
Two hours later I emerge, sweating profusely, my hair now disobediently escaping the hair band in every direction, man I haven’t worked out that hard in years, if ever! Now it’s just back to my room for a quick shower then on to the Spa to get waxed to within an inch of my life. If only I had known yesterday that I would be going on this ‘date’ I wouldn’t have been so quick to poo-poo the waxing option on the Spa menu.
Turning the corner past the main foyer that leads to my building and I
A sharp ring snaps me out of my thoughts, the phone, no it can’t be.
“Hello?” I try hard to sound carefree
“Hey, this is Carlos, I just had a call from your room, Mrs. Mavers right?” now that’s how you sound carefree.
“Umm…yes…sorry I…I err…thought you weren’t in” a grasp for a plausible explanation as to why I slammed the phone down on him.
“Oh, that’s OK, I was hoping you were calling about dinner” if he realises I changed my mind mid-call he is not letting on.
“Well, yes I was as it goes” regaining a little of my composure, “and it s M s Mavers….Kaitlin” why did I say that? Being married would have been the perfect get out clause if this dinner gets too steamy.
“I am sorry , M s Mavers….Kaitlin, you have a beautiful name” the glee in his voice is palpable. “It is maybe a little late for tonight, plus I have some business to attend to, but are you free tomorrow? I could pick you up from your room at Seven?” His accent is addictive, but I can’t quite place it; his English is perfect, the pronunciation spot on, but there is a certain twang to it that suggests it may not be his first language.
“Seven, yes that should be fine, I guess I’ll see you then.” At this stage I am coming across a little too formal, stern even.
“Until then, buenos noches Senorita” I just melt on the spot, replacing the receiver I bring my knees up and hug them the school girl grin plastered across my face, he is sooo dreamy!
Chapter 3
Routing through my suitcase, I know I put them in here somewhere, throwing aside various clothes in search of my shorts and t-shirt. I had originally packed them to wear as pyjamas, but needs must; if I am having this dinner tonight, I’m going to have to go to the gym first. I know realistically even if I am in there all day it won’t make any immediate difference, but I’m hoping that the thought at least will boost my confidence a little.
Pulling on the faded cotton, polyester mix shorts and slightly stretched and out of shape t-shirt I eye myself in the mirror, no wonder I only wear these to bed. I pull the hem of the t-shirt to one side and tie it in a small knot, at least it hides just how askew it is; there is nothing I can do about the shorts however. Plus the only shoes I have are the holed, but comfy, old trainers I wore on the flight.
Pulling the hair band off my wrist I tug my hair back into a scruffy bun, then clip the straggling bits up out of the way. One last glance at the mirror, this will just have to do.
The gym is tiny, but has just about every machine you could need crammed into it. There are a few die-hard athletic types in there, pushing weights, with their sizeable muscles rippling under the strain. They pause only for a second as I walk by, each giving me their own questionable looks. Sorry boys, but I’ve got my eye on a bigger prize, I think to myself, smiling. It’s all about the mindset, so Caz keeps telling me; think confident, be confident!
Starting with the treadmill, I switch my ipod to a racy little dance mix and off we go.
Two hours later I emerge, sweating profusely, my hair now disobediently escaping the hair band in every direction, man I haven’t worked out that hard in years, if ever! Now it’s just back to my room for a quick shower then on to the Spa to get waxed to within an inch of my life. If only I had known yesterday that I would be going on this ‘date’ I wouldn’t have been so quick to poo-poo the waxing option on the Spa menu.
Turning the corner past the main foyer that leads to my building and I
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