Chapter Seventeen- Surprise Visit

Uh?

I feel a blush rise up my cheeks as Mr. Crane crosses the room and stands just a few feet away from me. I try to grasp the meaning of what he just asked but I'm only half-thinking right now.

I'm too busy drooling at the outline of his body through his shirt, and letting my gaze wander to the skin on his upper chest which is now clearly visible though the opened buttons. It's all smooth and white up there, just like the rest of his body.

I suddenly have a strong urge to reach at that moment, to touch, to feel him, to know how that smooth skin would feel on my fingers, even if it's just for a second but then...

I mentally slap myself back to reality and my subconscious screams at me. 'ARIA. ARE YOU OKAY? YOUR LIFE IS A WRECK RIGHT NOW BUT ALL YOU CAN THINK OF IS FEELING UP YOUR BOSS? SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY! HE MIGHT EVEN BE TAKEN BY SOMEONE NAMED SOPHIA!'

Oh. 

I feel a pang of disappointment sting me at this thought.

I try to compose myself but I'm pretty sure he has already seen me staring because at that moment, he raises an eyebrow in that characteristic way of his and I catch his lips twitch slightly upward for a brief second.

I look away guiltily as I say, "I don't understand what you mean."

His voice is still maddingly cool "I'll be more clear. I'm asking if you might have come here on purpose?"

I look up at him hesitantly, many questions running through my mind. My subconscious again reminds me of the fact that I'm still wearing just a towel, and my hair is dripping wet.

I grip the towel tighter, feeling a sense of panic. "Why would I do that?"

He folds his arms across his chest. "I think we both know why."

What in the world is he getting at?

He still looks smug as he continues "I really wasn't expecting this but well, with women these days, you can never tell."

"I still don't know what you're talking about, sir." I say, a little bit sharply. I'm getting really exasperated now and I all I want to do now is just to relax and get my mind away from everything that's happened today. Besides, the water from my hair is now forming a pool at my feet. I forgot to dry my hair.

He doesn't even seem like just heard what I said. His gaze shifts to the puddle on the floor and says like I'm an idiot. "That's water."

Of course it's water. What else is it supposed to be? It can't be coffee dripping from my hair. Can it?

"I know."

"Why didn't you dry your hair?" His tone is now reprimanding.

Now I'm slightly becoming irritated. "I don't know. I didn't remember to. Besides, I thought there was an intruder here which is why I came out of the bathroom quickly."

"Oh." He pauses for some seconds before adding, "What really happened at your house today though?"

"I think it was just a burglar. I told you before." I really hope my voice sounds convincing.

"Mhm." He rubs his chin and surveys me. "So are you going to just stand there or will you go dry your hair?"

"Oh yes. I should probably go to my room then." I step around him and move to the couch to retrieve my gown and bra, which are both flung carelessly across the chair. I blush as I pick them up.

He turns and watches me in amusement?

"Shouldn't you change first before you go?"

"HERE?" I freeze.

"Yes." He says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He moves back to the wet bar as as he talks. "You don't want to go out in just a towel, do you?"

"Uhm. But I..."

"I'll just be over here, drinking my whisky." He says as he sits on a barstool, with his back to me, and uncorks a decanter. "Or if you're not comfortable. you could go to the bed over there. Just press the green button on the wall there for the curtain divider, or use the bathroom. Your choice." he pours some whisky over the ice in his glass and takes a long sip.

I'm too tired to even move an inch again or argue, so I just hastily remove my towel in a flash and change into my dress and shoes. I'm done in a minute and I say so.

He turns to look at me, his eyes fixed intently on mine, as if trying to figure something out. He opens his mouth to say something, but then stops. He just continues to stare at me for what seems like eternity, then he takes another sip.

I feel very self conscious all of a sudden and I make an excuse to go back to the bathroom, to return the towel.

As I close the door behind me, my first though is 'Oh, how I wish I can just stay in this bathroom and live here forever.'

My mind briefly flicks back to when I had this same particular feeling too, on the day that my pants ripped. Now, It doesn't feel like that incident happened just this week. It all feels like ages ago.

After hanging the towel carefully on the rack, I steel myself and walk back to the room where Mr Crane is now pouring himself a second glass.

He shoots me a look again. "Whisky?"

I lick my lips at the thought but I politely shake my head. If I have alcohol right now, I might be tempted to do something I would probably really regret later. And I don't want to.

Yet. A little voice inside my head adds and I shake it off immediately.

As he still stares at me with those intense blue eyes which look so different from minutes before, I can feel the tension between us building, and I know I need to get out of here, fast. "I...I think I'll just go," I say, trying to sound calm, even though my heart is literally doing backflips right now.

How does he manage to make me do that?

He nods. "Good." He takes a long swig from his glass.

I quickly shove my keycard and phone into my bag and make a beeline for the door. As I reach for the handle, Mr. Crane's voice stops me.

"You're still wet." he says.

What?!

"I'm referring to your hair." He quickly adds. "Check for a dryer in your bathroom"

Without looking back, I mutter a quick 'okay' and open the door.

Quickly, I close it behind me and step into the corridor, trying to catch my breath. I'm still embarrassed and a little bit dazed about what just happened in there but I take a deep breath and walk to the opposite door which clearly has 1412 engraved on it.

Only a person walking with their eyes in their pockets wouldn't have seen that. How did I not notice?

I look back at Mr Crane's suite which, on closer examination, I now see is '1413', except the three slightly looks like a two, but still.

I slide my keycard over the slot at the entrance of my suite and the door opens immediately. As I step in, I notice that the room still looks exactly the same as Mr. Crane's suite, except for a few minor differences. The furniture is the same, the decor is the same...it's just a little smaller and the bed doesn't have a canopy.

I make sure to lock the door carefully behind me, and I even add the security bolt in place too, just for additional security.

I ignore Mr Crane's comment about drying my hair and I climb into the bed, which I immediately regret, because my hair soaks the bed. I grab a pillow and place it under my head.

As I lie there, on my back, I try to go to sleep, but the thoughts of how to get money occupy my mind once again.

What if I'm not able to get the money? What would happen then?

Surely, Josh would go to prison and...and my family would be in very great danger. My mind goes back to the scene at my house and I shudder.

Because I can't think of anything else to do, I start to cry. I can't remember the last time I cried.

It must have probably been when my father got terminally ill, few weeks after the scandal. It was the same sickness which prompted me to borrow money just so that he could be flown abroad for treatment.

It even cost me more money to even bribe the private airline officials than to actually pay the medical bills themselves, because he was on the government no-fly list, at that time, and I had to tip them off a huge sum before they agreed to help me sneak him out, just for the treatment.

All the money spent was borrowed from someone I loathe more than anyone else in this world. Someone I had previously cut all ties with, and who is after me now...

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as tears stream down my face. It feels so good to just cry and let everything out. Eventually, exhaustion takes over, and I drift off to sleep.

I'm jolted awake by the sound of a phone ringing beside my head. I squint at the clock on the bedside table and see that it's almost midnight. I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the sleep.

I groggily sit up and pick up the telephone beside the bed, wondering why I'm being disturbed by this time. "Hello?" I clear my throat, trying to sound more awake.

The voice on the other end is a female's. Firm but polite. "Miss Cole. A visitor here to see you,"

I'm immediately alert, wondering who could be visiting me at this time. Nobody even knows I'm here.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my heart starting to beat faster. "Who is it?" I ask, yawning and rubbing at my eyes.

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and then she says the name. "Should I let him in or you'll be down here?"

I pause after hearing that name. Why is he here to see me by this time?