Glancing in the mirror at her flushed, greasy face, Thea walked to the door and pushed down the handle. She peekedinto the corridor, and sure enough, there was Ginny. She recognised the red curls that draped over her shoulders.
She was still talking. Thea could make out a few words, but the further away she moved, the fainter her voice became. She heard “Lucas” and “Felix.” Thea craned her neck to listen. But it was no good. She’d have to step into the corridor to hear properly. But all she had on was a disposable paper G-string and something the size of a washcloth clutched to her chest.
Thea rolled her eyes, cursing herself. Now wasn’t the time for hesitation. She had to be bold if she wanted to know what Ginny was saying. Did she want to spend the night with Felix or not? She needed to know if this woman could put the boot in and change his mind.
Thea opened the door a little further. After quickly checking that nobody else was in the corridor, she pushed it wide and crept outside the room. The chill of the air con hit her skin immediately, and Thea’s nipples pebbled. With an involuntary shiver, she held her breath, listening to Ginny’s words.
“If I get the chance, I’ll have a quiet word with him. Remind him what his priorities should be.”
But then, in a flurry of red hair, Ginny disappeared around the corner, and her words softened to a hum. Instinct took over, and Thea moved away from the door to follow her. She only travelled a few inches before something pulled her back, and a solid “click” sounded behind her.
She turned her head to locate the noise, and her heart fell through all fifteen stories below. The door to her massage room had closed, trapping the corner of her towel with it.
“Oh, no, no, no!” She pulled at the white cotton with a tut, but no matter how hard she tugged, it wouldn’t budge. She tried the handle next, but it was stuck tight. She couldn’t move it, even if she yanked it really hard. There was a keyhole but no key.
A realisation, self-awareness and blind panic washedthrough Thea in quick succession. She was standing in the middle of a six-star hotel corridor in a pair of tiny paper knickers. Her towel barely covered her right boob, and there was every chance someone would spot her. And worse, it wasFelix’shotel. Every staff member she’d met knew she was here with him.
Thea’s head swum. Okay. Time to be practical. Channel Kitty. What would she do? Kitty would have a spare key. Even if it wasn’t her hotel, she was so damn efficient that she’d have made a copy months ago and would have left it above the doorjamb just in case. In a moment of madness, Thea reached up to check, but the minute she felt a chill at her nipple, she resumed her huddled position.
Her options were pretty slim. If she called for help, she’d be the talk of the hotel. There’d be whispers behind hands as she walked by. And she couldn’t hide in Felix’s penthouse all weekend. She had a party to attend and had to beverybuffed. Everyone would snicker about Felix’s “potato” getting left outside, very much unpeeled and her dignity mashed into the carpet.
So, sending an SOS wasn’t an option, but she couldn’t just stand outside the room and wait to be rescued. What if Ginny came back? At the thought, blood screamed in Thea’s ears, and a clamminess sprung at her palms. Therehadto be a way to get back into the room without attracting attention.
She swept her eyes around the never-ending beige of the corridor. She needed to find something,anything, to jimmy the door open. There was only a large potted palm plant and a small coffee table with magazines spread out on its top. But something in the plant’s pot caught her eye.
The palm was huge, with long fronds tipped by lush green leaves. Big leaves. The only thing that looked to be keeping it upright was a metal stick wired to its stalk. It was the stick thatThea was interested in. If she could get over there and un-wire it, she could use it to pick the lock.
Unfortunately, the pot plant was a good six meters away. To get to it, she’d have to streak straight down the corridor. Then, it would take time to un-wire the stick. The longer it took, the more chance she had of being caught. Boobs out, and bottom not far behind. The paper G-string did nothing to protect her modesty. Thank goodness she’d gone for a wax a couple of days ago.
A nudie run was her only option. At least if someone discovered her, and she came crashing down in a blaze of humiliation, it would be onherterms.
Thea stood still, clinging onto the last seconds of towel coverage, listening for approaching footsteps. But when she heard nothing, she sucked in her lips, dropped the towel, and ran.
It was the longest six meters of her life, like trying to run in a dream, dragging heavy legs through thick treacle. By the time she made it to the plant, her heart was hammering out the rhythm of a thrash metal track. Her hands shook as she desperately tugged at the planter stick. But Oompa Loompas, or someone with equally tiny digits, must have wired it. With her nibbled nails and trembling fingers, it would take minutes to undo.
Thea thought about snapping the stalk in two, but she didn’t want to kill the plant. She couldn’t have that on her conscience. Phil would never forgive her. He’d been such a nature lover. She needed to buy herself some more time. Give herself a chance to work the rod free. It wasn’t the sort of job one attempted wearing only a pair of paper knickers. She looked down at the coffee table and crouched to rifle through the magazines.
Then, an idea hit her. She could make herself a bikini top to handle her modesty issues. And she had the perfect solution.Palm leaves. If it had worked for Eve in the Garden of Eden and Jane before she was officially going steady with Tarzan, why not Thea?
She stood up and examined the palm. Its leaves were huge, but each one held several fronds. She could have knitted them together if she had extra minutes, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
With a grin and an “I’m sorry” to Phil, she snapped off two fronds. Faster than a girl scout weaving baskets, Thea wrapped the palm leaves around her boobs, securing them at the back.
When she was done, she dropped her hands and looked down at her chest to survey the fruits of her labour. Unfortunately, the only fruit on display was her own. Each of her nipples poked through the gaps in the leaves, and no matter how she arranged them, they had other ideas.
“Damn, damn, damn!” Thea added a hefty foot stamp on her last word. The leaves wouldn’t work.
Again, Thea glanced at the coffee table. The magazines were her only other option. Without looking, she grabbed one and wedged it under the palm fronds around her chest. The cold slide of the shiny paper stung the sensitive skin at the underside of her breasts. Once in place, she let go. Miraculously, it held. The magazine stayed put.
Stifling a loud “whoop!” which would only have drawn attention, Thea set to work on the tiny wires holding the metal stick to the plant stem. After what felt like a decade, the stick slipped free. Its end wasn’t as sharp and pointy as she would have liked, but lock-picking was her only option short of drop-kicking the door open like a ninja.
After a quick check for voices or footsteps, Thea sprinted back across the corridor towards her massage room. The small, white towel still hung wedged in the door. She narrowed her eyes and poked the stick into the keyhole. It fitted, but it twistedas she wiggled the rod up and down. If she wasn’t careful, it would buckle.
She pulled the stick out of the keyhole and bent it in half. As Thea looked down at the metal in her hands, her eyes rested on the magazine strapped to her sternum. Two smouldering green eyes stared back. Thea drew her brows and pulled back some of the palm fronds to reveal a self-satisfied smirk and some impressive cheekbones. Felix!
It was the same picture currently propped up on her kitchen dresser. She’d picked up a magazine with Felix on the front! Thea snorted a frustrated laugh. Of course, she had. She was wearing his face like a breastplate. If Felix could see this, he’d be loving it.
With a shake of her head, she returned to work on the lock. It was easier now, but still, the slippery metal moved around in her fingers.
