Second Chance with the Bridesmaid
Autor:in
Jennifer Faye
Gelesen
16,7K
Kapitel
22
PROLOGUE
PITTER-PATTER. PITTER-PATTER.
Adara Galinis’s heartbeat accelerated as the elevator slowly rose in one of the poshest hotels in Paris. That wasn’t what was making her nervous. As the concierge of an elite island resort that hosted celebrities and millionaires, she was used to the finest surroundings.
Her racing heart had to do with the fact that she had traveled from Greece to Paris on the spur of the moment. She wasn’t normally spontaneous. She liked things neat and orderly. Her job provided all the spontaneity she needed in life.
But she had a long weekend off, and in order to spend time with Krystof, she needed to come to him. Ever since they’d met at Valentine’s on Ludus Island, they’d been casually seeing each other.
Krystof was best friends with the island’s owner, Atlas Othonos. Earlier that year, when Atlas had briefly considered selling the island, he’d contacted Krystof in hopes that he’d want to buy the place. The sale didn’t work out, but Adara had caught Krystof’s attention. He’d pursued her in a charming sort of way—requesting concierge service and explaining that he wanted to dance with the most beautiful woman at the resort that evening. She was all prepared to extend an invitation on his behalf to whichever woman he’d chosen when he’d announced that the woman he was interested in was her.
She’d hesitated at first. After all, she made it a rule not to fraternize with the guests, but his warm smile and his enchanting way with words had won her over. They’d danced the night away at the Valentine’s ball. It had been a magical evening that didn’t end until the sun came up the next morning.
Now whenever Krystof stayed at the Ludus Resort, they made sure to spend as much time together as possible. At the end of each visit, he always asked her to fly away with him to some far-flung country. And though the idea tempted her, she’d always turned him down. She just couldn’t imagine picking up and leaving without any planning. How was her assistant supposed to know what needed to be done? What if one of her regular clients arrived and she wasn’t there? Part of her success was knowing the regulars and anticipating their wants before they had to ask her. She kept extensive files on their regular guests, from their favorite foods and colors to the names of their children and pets.
However, this weekend Hermione, her boss and best friend, had insisted she use some of her accumulated vacation time. Adara had been so focused on her job recently that she’d let her social life slide, and as for hobbies, well, she didn’t have any unless you counted shopping.
So when she heard Krystof would be visiting Paris, the shopping mecca of the world, she took it as a sign. She couldn’t wait to see him again. Their visits were so infrequent that it was always a rush to be with him. At least that’s what she told herself was the reason for her heart racing every time she laid eyes on him.
She ran her hand down over the short, snug black dress. Her effort was a waste, because there was nowhere for the dress to go. It clung to her body like a second skin. It was a far more daring dress than she was accustomed to wearing. She’d bought it specifically for Krystof. She hoped he’d like her surprise.
As the elevator rose, her gaze focused on the increasing numbers. With each floor she passed, her heart beat faster. All too quickly, the elevator quietly came to a stop on the ninth floor. The door whooshed open.
Adara drew in a deep breath and then exhaled. With her fingers wrapped around the handle of her weekender bag, she stepped out. The door closed behind her.
This plush hotel felt so far away from the privately owned island of Ludus. Of course, it wasn’t a fair comparison, as the Ludus Resort had been founded by a former king—King Georgios, an amazing man who’d abdicated the throne of Rydiania. She didn’t know all the details of why he’d stepped away from the crown, but once he had, his family had promptly disowned him. He’d moved to Greece and bought Ludus Island, where he would live out his days. It was both a sad and an amazing tale.
As she looked around the spacious foyer, she realized her initial assessment had been misguided. Though the wine-colored carpet was plush, and the fixtures were brass on cream-colored walls, that was where it ended. There was no precious artwork on the walls or greenery throughout the hallway. Whereas the Ludus was always looking to make the resort stand out in both big and small ways, it appeared this hotel excelled at a minimalist approach. Interesting.
There was no one about in the foyer. The only sound as she walked was the soft rumble from the wheels of her case. She couldn’t wait to see Krystof. She was so excited. She hoped he’d be just as thrilled to see her.
The gold plaque on the wall showed that his room was to the right. She turned that way. Her footsteps were muffled by the thick carpeting. What would he think about her spontaneity? This presumed he was even in his hotel room. What if he was out at a card game or some other such thing?
She would have to phone him, then, to tell him she was here, and the surprise would be ruined, but she was jumping too far ahead. She lifted her head and noticed a stylishly dressed woman at the end of the hallway. The woman knocked on a door. Was the young woman doing the same as her and being spontaneous? She hoped the woman had as good a weekend as she was about to have with Krystof.
Just then, the door in front of the woman swung open. The woman stood off to the side, giving Adara full view of the person inside the hotel room. She stopped walking. The breath caught in Adara’s lungs. Krystof stood there. Oh, my! Her heart lodged in her throat at the sight of him.
His dark hair was spiky and going every which way, as though he’d just stepped out of the shower. His broad shoulders led to his bare chest. She was too far away to see if there were beads of water on his tanned skin. As her gaze lowered, her mouth grew dry. No man had a right to look as good as him.
He wore nothing more than a white towel draped around his trim waist. She swallowed hard. The only thing wrong with this picture was that she was supposed to be the one standing at his doorway.
His gaze lingered on the other woman. A smile lit up his face. The woman practically threw herself at him. They hugged as though they knew each other very well.
Adara blinked, willing away the image. But when she focused again, he was still holding the woman. So this was what he did when they were apart. Her heart plummeted down to her new black heels.
She turned away before she was spotted. The only thing that could have made this moment worse was if Krystof were to spot her. Her utter humiliation would then be complete.
Her steps were rapid as she retreated to the elevator. She wanted to disappear as quickly as possible. And lucky for her, one of the two sets of elevator doors swung open immediately. An older couple stepped off.
“Could you hold that for me?” Adara asked.
The gentleman held the door for her until she stepped inside. She thanked him. As the door closed, she recalled the image of a smiling, practically naked Krystof drawing that woman into his arms. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She blinked them away. She wasn’t going to fall apart in the elevator. All the while fury churned within her. Why had she let herself believe they shared something special?
It was quite obvious she was just someone to warm his bed whenever one of his other girlfriends wasn’t available. How could she have been so blind? Sure, they had said this arrangement was casual, but that was in the beginning—months ago, on Valentine’s. She’d thought they were getting closer—starting something more serious. Obviously she was the only one to think this.
She had been so wrong—about him, about herself, about them. She was done with him. Because his idea of casual and hers were two different things. In the end, she wasn’t cut out to do casual—not if it meant him seeing other women while he was still involved with her. But it didn’t matter now, because they were over.
