Grace opened her mouth behind the manager’s back and looked at Frank, who nodded back at her with matching enthusiasm.
They followed the manager along the hallway and waited as he opened the door. Grace stepped inside. It was lovely. A part of her was relieved that Frank had managed to pull some strings although she was worried about the bill. As the manager showed them around and opened the terrace doors overlooking the pool, Grace pulled Frank aside.
‘You know my company will pay for this.’
‘Really, that would help,’ said Frank, scratching his face.
‘Maybe we should just tell them we want two plain old rooms.’
‘Nah, live large lady,’ said Frank. ‘Might as well enjoy ourselves.’
He let Ken out, tipping him five dollars, much to Grace’s amusement.
‘I don’t think anyone in this suite had ever tipped the manager five dollars before,’ she said.
‘Too much?’ asked Frank innocently.
Grace fell over onto an overstuffed chair, laughing. She looked at her Phillipe Patek watch.
‘We have three hours till we meet Calypso,’ she said, taking out her notes and laptop.
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Frank, sitting on the sofa and crossing his legs. ‘You must have looked at it over one hundred times on the plane.’
Grace closed the computer. ‘You’re right. I’m just so nervous.’
But it wasn’t just the presentation that made her nervous. It was being in the intimate space with Frank. She hadn’t slept with anyone in over two years and she thought that she might never again, but Frank was different.
‘Well, I am sure we could occupy ourselves,’ said Frank from the sofa.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked as she picked up the room service menu.
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Grace?’
Grace turned to look at him. She was already flushed. Please let it be OK, she prayed to the gods as she stood with the menu in her hand.
‘Yes?’ She felt anxious, and yet she wanted to kiss Frank again.
‘Take off your coat.’
Grace took of her black Burberry trench and put it over the chair neatly. She bit her lip, not daring to look at him.
‘Take off your shoes.’
She took off her loafers and placed them neatly, side by side. She looked down at the carpet.
‘Take off your shirt,’ he said simply.
Grace unbuttoned it slowly. Slipping her arms out of it, she stood in her champagne coloured lace bra. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but it felt exciting and natural.
‘Now take off your pants,’ he said quietly.
She looked up at him and saw he looked quite different as he sat in front of her. Gone was the cheeky boy and instead sat before her a man. He locked eyes with her.
Grace unzipped her Michael Kors trousers and stepped out of them. She laid them over the chair and stood in her French lace briefs and matching bra.
‘Now come here.’
Grace walked over to where he sat on the sofa. She stood in front of him and he kissed her stomach and pulled her onto his lap. ‘Can I say something?’ he asked quietly.
