Page 16 of Shade
Do you see that girl getting onto the elevator in her uniform and the tired eyes, hair pulled up into a messy top knot even though she’s specifically told messy top knots aren’t for work?
That’s me. Scarlet Rose. Not sure if I introduced myself before. I am now. I’m a college drop-out, blonde, and I live up to the theory that blondes have more fun. I do.
It’s been four days since Shade Sawyer checked in and you’re wondering if I’ve upheld my quest to sleep with him, right?
Well. . . Shade checked infourdays ago, and I haven’t seen him yet, believe it or not. And I’m beginning to wonder if I will because of his goddamn security. They don’t let anyone off the elevator, and the only time I was allowed in the room, he wasn’t there. It’s like he’s the president with the way they protect him.
It’s bullshit if you ask me. And annoying.
So there I am, and it’s nearing 8:00 p.m. on New Year’s Eve and I’m in the elevator heading up to the third floor when a group of people step inside with me.
At first I don’t look up. I don’t particularly like riding in elevators with other people. I’m known for hitting the close doors button when I see people approaching. This group caught me off guard.
When the doors close, I ask without looking up, “What floor?” because I’m the one closest to the panel.
“Penthouse,” someone mumbles.
Oh. Shit.
I knowthatvoice.
Your hearts pumping in your ears, isn’t it?
Okay. Maybe it’s just mine and it’s all I notice so I assume you feel the same way. Just wait. It gets worse.
My eyes snap to his, only he’s not looking at me and he’s not even the one who spoke. It was his brother.
His attention is diverted to the phone in his hand. I notice him first, and my stomach jumps to high-five my heart. Only I’m disappointed when I see it is, in fact, Shade Sawyer, in an elevator with me, but he’s surrounded by two women and his brother, Tiller.
Trying to appear casual, I slowly exhale and try to rid my body of the nerves, but it doesn’t work.
The girls are as obnoxious as they come in and the Sawyer brothers lose a couple points with me just based on the fact that they couldn’t get better chicks to accompany them up to their room.
But then a knot of annoyance forms in the pit of my stomach along with a pang of something else. Jealousy. He’s taking women to his room. I’m jealous of these girls, these highly annoying unappreciative girls will be the ones with him when he doesn’t even realize he needs me.
I take a moment to judge them. You can too. I mean, fuck. Look at them. Resembling two chicks who clearly came from a costume store with their shimmery black dresses. They’re twins, obviously, with black hair down to their waists and fake perky tits popping out of their barely-there dresses covering their perfectly round asses.
Seriously? Who has an ass like that? Evidently they work on it, or they have ass implants because they don’t make them like that. I know this for sure. Unless your last name is Kardashian. Then apparently it’s in the genes.
Ugh! Stop, Scar. You’re not the jealous type.
When the elevator begins to move, Tiller notices me. He rips his hood off his head and leans into the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
He says something to Shade in his ear, and his head lift to mine, but falls just as quickly. I should be excited because he looked at me, right?
Nope. He basically looked right through me like I wasn’t even there.
Maybe he doesn’t recognize me? Probably not. Our meeting last year was brief.
As the girls talk and giggle, Tiller pays them no mind and gives me a once over, dark, cautious eyes lingering longer than I would have expected from Tiller.
His mouth twists into something that resembles a smirk, but it fails to last as he asks, “Are you astripper?”
Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time I’ve been asked this from a hotel guest. I toss him a condescending glance, mocking his assumption. “What would make you think I’m astripper?” I put emphasis on the word like he did.
The girls laugh, thinking it’s an insult, but it’s not. They should be insulted he’s looking at me with them in the same elevator because he certainly doesn’t seem all that interested in them, and Shade, he hasn’t even looked up from his phone.
Tiller brushes his knuckles over his jaw, amusement dancing in his pupils. “I once fucked a stripper dressed like a maid, so I just assumed you were.”
