Chapter 3 Room Mates
Coralyn's POV
The moment the plane touched down, I turned instinctively, hoping for one last glimpse of the green-eyed stranger, but he was already gone. He seemed to have deboarded already, dissolving into the crowd like he hadn't been there at all. I sighed, gathered my things, and stepped off the aircraft.
At baggage claim, I collected my suitcase and let myself admire the airport. This vacation was already promising a different rhythm. A resort guide in a cream uniform was supposed to meet me at the terminal, someone who would escort me straight to the hotel where the retreat would be hosted.
My phone buzzed suddenly and I glanced down, saw the caller ID, and hissed at once.
The stripper must have snitched.
I declined the call, but two seconds later it rang again.
"For fuck's sake." I swiped on the green icon.
“Kade, why are you calling me?”
“Hey, hot stuff. Where are you?”
I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly got stuck in my skull.
“First of all, I told you never to call me again. Second, it is none of your business.”
“Ah, ah, ah, baby girl,” Kade drawled. “That’s not how you are supposed to pay me back for everything I've done for you. Just tell me where you are and I will come find you.”
My fingers tightened around my mobile.
“I don’t know what obsessive nonsense you are on, but the next time you come near me, I will file for a restraining order. I am somewhere peaceful, and I am not about to let you ruin it.”
I ended the call before he could answer and blocked his number again for the third time this month. The man was a walking red-flag festival, narcissistic, obsessive, and allergic to boundaries in a way that should be studied in museum.
He was a pest.
A sharp honk pulled me out of my annoyance. A sleek black limousine had pulled up to my side.
The driver stepped out in cream and black.
“Are you Miss Coralyn?” he asked with a polite bow.
I brushed my hair back and nodded. “Yes. I am Miss Coralyn.”
“Do you have your ticket with you?”
I pulled it from my side bag and handed it over. He scanned it using a small device clipped to the limo door and it beeped green.
“Right this way, ma’am.”
××××
“Glamour. Hush. Perfection.”
Those were the first words that rolled off my tongue as the limousine passed through the gates of the resort.
It looked like a regal heirloom handed down from a forgotten age. A fountain up front, and its logo highlighting the hundredth year event.
Stepping through the ornate double doors, I was greeted by a passerby.
“Bonsoir, mademoiselle.”
I waved back.
French? Not my strong suit. So I offered a bright, slightly confused 'Hola,' and immediately regretted it. The woman chuckled but continued on, leaving me to recover my pride as I dragged my suitcase across the ground.
The reception desk was manned by a woman who looked sculpted, as if an artist had carved her from porcelain with her pale skin like glass, hair pulled into a slick bun, and cheekbones shining under layers of powder. It was almost creepy.
“I am Coralyn,” I said, offering a polite smile. “Checking in.”
She tilted her head slightly and beamed an unnaturally wide smile.
“Would you kindly repeat your full name, mademoiselle? I will check the guestbook.”
“Coralyn Calder.”
"Repeat that again please, mademo—"
“Coralyn Calder.”
The woman’s fingers opened the guestbook, it was leather-bound and gold-edged. Gosh, even their records were fancy.
She typed my name into the system, and then flipped the page.
“Your reservation,” she murmured, “is listed under the hundredth celebration sponsored retreat package, yes?”
“Yes. It is.”
More scrolling and page-turning followed.
“I am afraid your check-in may be delayed.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Delayed? Why?”
Before she could answer, a crack of lightening and loud thunder flashed just outside the window.
The receptionist’s expression remained calm.
“A snowstorm has struck the mainland. Unfortunately, it has forced several emergency landings on this island, and the resort is temporarily over capacity. Many of our reserved suites have not yet been vacated.”
Heavens please, don't tell me that my vacation was going to be ruined.
“Oh. Wow. So… what does that mean for me?”
The receptionist folded her hands.
“It means, mademoiselle Calder, that at this moment, we do not have an available suite for you.”
My brain short-circuited.
“No suite. As in… no room? At all?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The storm grounded several flights unexpectedly. Guests who should have departed this morning are unable to leave. Our rooms, villas, bungalows, and extended-holiday cottages are currently occupied.”
Extended-holiday cottages. I had never even known those existed.
And now I could not have one? Bold.
“So… what do I do?” I murmured, fighting the rising panic that frayed my nerves. I fought the urge to chew on them.
“We can process a full refund for you,” she offered. “You are welcome to reschedule for another date, some other time.”
Another event wouldn't come like this until the next hundred years. Would my corpse come to book a room then?
I tried not to sob, hard.
“I cannot reschedule. My flight here was the last one before the shutdown. I cannot fly back out. I cannot go anywhere else. And I…” My voice thinned, embarrassingly close to a whimper. “I cannot have my vacation ruined, not this Christmas. I badly need this.”
The receptionist gave another sympathetic hum.
“I understand, truly. But with the storm forcing so many unexpected guests into our care, our options are limited.”
I pressed both hands to the counter. “Is there anything available? Anything at all? A small room? A half room? A broom closet? The staff break room?”
At this point, I would have slept inside a suitcase if it came with a blanket and a functioning lock.
“I am deeply sorry. There is truly nothing.”
Christmas had apparently decided to show me who the real Grinch was.
“What do the other stranded guests do?”
“Some are waiting in our lounge area, while others have been retrieved by family or friends on the island.”
I had neither.
I was about to throw myself on the ground and wail when little hands clutched unto my dress. Someone leaned into me, and his breath tickled my ear.
"I have a presidential suite, would you mind being my roommate?”