Page 21 of Beautiful Revenge

LIVING LIFE SOLO

Harlow

Iflip off the water and grab a towel.

My wedding day was nothing like it should’ve been, and I couldn’t be happier.

Devon Donnelly takes room service seriously. He told me to order whatever I wanted, but I wasn’t hungry. So I was shocked when there was a knock at my door a little after six o’clock last night.

It was a cart full of more food than three to four needed, let alone little old me.

I should have a conversation with the owner about waste. I can’t imagine how much food was thrown away because I was a no-show to my own wedding. I was told the kitchen didn’t know what I liked, so they made me a variety—compliments of Mr. Donnelly. It didn’t come with champagne, but it did come with a selection of red and white wines.

I drank half a bottle of red as I picked over the variety of dishes. Pasta, tenderloin, scallops, and even fish tacos, which I did eat most of. You can put anything in a taco, and I’ll eat it.

I was grateful for the food since I was too wound up to eat most of yesterday. Devon has saved me more than once, it seems. Food and a short conversation with Chrissie late last night was all I needed. My wedding day ended just the way I’d planned.

Alone.

Relieved.

And, most importantly, my relationship status is once again set at single.

Sleep hasn’t come easily for me in weeks, but today I’m rested with not one regret. If anything, I’m more determined than ever to carry on with the plan I had no choice but to make.

I wrap the towel around me and rake a comb through my wet hair. All I need is a few more hours until I should be able to wander the estate and the town without running into people I don’t want to see or talk to. And since I don’t want to speak to anyone but Chrissie, I need to hide out until everyone from the wedding is long gone.

Janie landed back in New York late last night. She hasn’t stopped texting me. It doesn’t matter how agitated or desperate her messages became—I haven’t answered any of them.

Her agitation and desperation has made me oddly happy. Even so, I finally had to mute her. There’s only so much of Janie Madison one person can take. I think I’ve had my fill for the next year.

I drop my towel to the floor and move to my suitcase for clothes only to hear a knock on my door.

And not a patient one.

Damn. This is a secure floor. I reach for my robe and wrap myself up in it as I hurry on bare feet across the suite.

When I look through the peep hole, relief floods me. All I see is a strong jaw line, a fresh dress shirt open at the collar, and sun kissed skin. And, let it be noted, the jaw line is stronger than Albert could ever manage through fillers and procedures.

Another knock, and this one is more persistent than before.

I cinch the belt of my robe and flip the deadbolt.

When I open the door, I feel smaller in front of him than I did yesterday. I must have been distracted. Or being naked beneath this robe may have something to do with it. I’m too lost thinking about my lack of panties to speak, so his deep, English accent breaks the silence. “Good morning.”

I fist my robe at my breasts and clear my throat. “Sorry. Good morning. Have you been waiting long? I was in the shower.”

His blue eyes are heavy when they survey me from top to bottom before he confirms the obvious. “I see that. Do you have a minute?”

If truth be told, I have three weeks, but I leave that part out. I hold the door open wide. “Of course.”

He stops in the middle of the suite and turns to me. “Felicity, the front desk manager, mentioned you wished to?—”

I interrupt him. “Thank you for dinner last night. Yesterday was a lot. I didn’t think I was hungry, but it turns out I was famished. You sent too much food, but I was able to wrap it up so I can finish it over the next few days.”

He tips his head and frowns. “You saved the left-over food?”

“Yes. I don’t like to waste food.”