She’d been short-tempered and snappy with most everyone it seemed – her parents, Lauren – who’d started calling her Bridezilla and told her she needed a good, hard slap – Angela, Travis. It had been almost two weeks since she’d dragged herself to a yoga class, and she’d been eating some really godawful food lately. Just this morning, for example, she’d been desperate enough to take Courtney – Travis’ hipster, offbeat PA – up on her offer to bring back something for breakfast. Even now her tummy was rumbling in protest from the greasy mess of a breakfast sandwich she’d scarfed down – the combination of fried egg, melted cheese and questionable looking sausage patty apparently not agreeing with her. She missed her usual civilized breakfasts of chocolate croissants, fresh fruit, and a frothy cappuccino, and made herself a vow to start eating healthier any day now. Or at least as soon as she got caught up on everything.
The morning flew by, so hectic and packed with tasks that she didn’t even have time to dwell on the fact that Nathan had been oddly absent thus far. He’d left the flat even earlier than she had this morning, mumbling something about meeting a client. But since then he hadn’t dropped by her office to check up on her, or even sent a single text. Julia frowned, realizing this wasn’t her fiancée’s typical M.O., but then quickly forgot about it as her phone rang yet again.
***
The taxi dropped her off in front of the Gregson Hotel with only a couple of minutes to spare. After working with Ian for over a year now, she knew how precisely he stuck to his schedule, and even though their meeting today was personal, she still had zero desire to be late.
The very attractive and very charming concierge – who reminded Julia of a younger, slimmer but equally elegant version of Ian, complete with the same upper crust British accent – was extremely solicitous of Julia, having been apprised of her arrival.
“Yes, of course, Ms. McKinnon,” replied the concierge, whose elegantly scripted nameplate proclaimed him to be David Howell. “Mr. Gregson is expecting you. In fact, he left very specific instructions that I was to have one of my staff personally escort you upstairs. A moment, please.”
Julia frowned, even as David beckoned over a short, balding man dressed in a bellman’s uniform. “Ah, that’s really not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way.”
David shook his head. “It’s no trouble at all, Ms. McKinnon. And Mr. Gregson was most insistent.”
She rolled her eyes. “And of course no one ever dares to argue with the fearsome Mr. Gregson, do they?”
David merely offered up a polite smile in response, but Julia swore she saw a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I certainly don’t argue with him. Now, if you’d be so kind as to follow Felix, he’ll make certain you get to your destination. A pleasure, Ms. McKinnon.”
Felix the bellman didn’t speak a word on the elevator ride up, and Julia frowned when she noticed he’d pressed the floor for the penthouse.
“I’m meeting Mr. Gregson in the penthouse suite?” she asked in bewilderment. “Are you absolutely certain that’s correct?”
Felix gave a curt nod. “That’s what I was told, miss. To bring you to the owners suite. We don’t question Mr. Gregson’s instructions.”
“Of course you don’t,” she grumbled half under her breath. “We wouldn’t dream of challenging His Royal Highness’ authority, would we?”
Felix refused to rise to the bait, merely arching a brow and focusing his gaze on the panel of floor buttons. They were the only occupants of the elevator at it zoomed up higher and higher, and Julia felt a little queasy, the remnants of her greasy breakfast sandwich still roiling around in her belly.
The bellman opened the wide double doors that led into the owner’s suite, extending an arm towards Julia. “Go right in, miss. You’re expected.”
Julia was
The morning flew by, so hectic and packed with tasks that she didn’t even have time to dwell on the fact that Nathan had been oddly absent thus far. He’d left the flat even earlier than she had this morning, mumbling something about meeting a client. But since then he hadn’t dropped by her office to check up on her, or even sent a single text. Julia frowned, realizing this wasn’t her fiancée’s typical M.O., but then quickly forgot about it as her phone rang yet again.
***
The taxi dropped her off in front of the Gregson Hotel with only a couple of minutes to spare. After working with Ian for over a year now, she knew how precisely he stuck to his schedule, and even though their meeting today was personal, she still had zero desire to be late.
The very attractive and very charming concierge – who reminded Julia of a younger, slimmer but equally elegant version of Ian, complete with the same upper crust British accent – was extremely solicitous of Julia, having been apprised of her arrival.
“Yes, of course, Ms. McKinnon,” replied the concierge, whose elegantly scripted nameplate proclaimed him to be David Howell. “Mr. Gregson is expecting you. In fact, he left very specific instructions that I was to have one of my staff personally escort you upstairs. A moment, please.”
Julia frowned, even as David beckoned over a short, balding man dressed in a bellman’s uniform. “Ah, that’s really not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way.”
David shook his head. “It’s no trouble at all, Ms. McKinnon. And Mr. Gregson was most insistent.”
She rolled her eyes. “And of course no one ever dares to argue with the fearsome Mr. Gregson, do they?”
David merely offered up a polite smile in response, but Julia swore she saw a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I certainly don’t argue with him. Now, if you’d be so kind as to follow Felix, he’ll make certain you get to your destination. A pleasure, Ms. McKinnon.”
Felix the bellman didn’t speak a word on the elevator ride up, and Julia frowned when she noticed he’d pressed the floor for the penthouse.
“I’m meeting Mr. Gregson in the penthouse suite?” she asked in bewilderment. “Are you absolutely certain that’s correct?”
Felix gave a curt nod. “That’s what I was told, miss. To bring you to the owners suite. We don’t question Mr. Gregson’s instructions.”
“Of course you don’t,” she grumbled half under her breath. “We wouldn’t dream of challenging His Royal Highness’ authority, would we?”
Felix refused to rise to the bait, merely arching a brow and focusing his gaze on the panel of floor buttons. They were the only occupants of the elevator at it zoomed up higher and higher, and Julia felt a little queasy, the remnants of her greasy breakfast sandwich still roiling around in her belly.
The bellman opened the wide double doors that led into the owner’s suite, extending an arm towards Julia. “Go right in, miss. You’re expected.”
Julia was
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