Elliot's POV
I checked my stocks on my phone and sighed in relief when I realized they had gone up.
"No," she muttered as her head twitched on my shoulder.
We were on our way to the hotel and she fell asleep.
I considered waking her up, but she was sick after all. I needed her well-rested for tomorrow.
"No," she began to cry as sweat trickled down her face.
I immediately put down my phone and tried to figure out what to do in this situation.
I decided to wrap my arm around her and pull her into my chest.
That seemed to do the trick because her cries began to subside.
"How much longer?" I asked the driver.
"Uh, five minutes out," he guessed. "It won't be long. It's just up there."
"Vile," I assumed she muttered.
Vile?
I brought my ears closer to her as she kept mumbling the same word.
Eventually, I figured out that she was trying to say Violet.
Violet.
As in the flower or colour?
I held her tighter as she trembled.
Did she do this every night or was her sickness causing her to say random words?
"We're here," he announced and I looked down on her.
I didn't want to wake her but she'd be better off sleeping on her hotel bed.
I gently shook her.
"Sereia," I called out her first name. "We're here."
It took me a few more tries before she slowly got up.
Her eyes widened when she saw my wet shoulder and chest.
She immediately turned away to wipe her tears.
"It's ok," I attempted to comfort her and minimize the awkwardness.
That didn't help.
She opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle.
The driver and I both got out and collected the suitcases from the back.
"Have a good one," he said as he took the tip from my hand.
She insisted on holding her suitcase so I allowed her to as we walked into the building.
An old buddy of my father's owns this hotel. I remember coming here as a kid whenever we came to New York.
Every time I come to New York, this is where I stay.
"Mr. Harrington," Rachael, the receptionist greeted me as I approached her.
"Good to see you again Rachael," I said as she began looking for my reservation.
"I see you've brought your mistress," she said looking at Sereia and I choked on air.
"What?" I asked. "No, she's an employee. We're here for business."
She nodded while holding in her smile and handed me a room key. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
"It's not-" I stopped talking when I realized my words were falling on deaf ears.
"Where is the other?" I asked as I picked up the card.
"Oh, you weren't joking?" she asked as she looked at the computer again. "Your reservation is for a two-bed room."
"What?" I asked. "No, my assistant was told to reserve two bedrooms."
I looked back on Sereia who was patiently standing at the side, barely looking like she could stand.
I sighed. "Look, Rachael, I'd appreciate it if you would just book another room. We're both tired from travelling."
"You know how booked we are, Mr. Harrington."
"Just make something work out," I snapped at her and she looked down on her computer again.
"There's a room available," she said. "but it's booked for the last two days you guys are here."
"It's fine," I immediately answered.
We can easily book a reservation elsewhere.
She nodded before handing me the second key card. "Enjoy your stay."
I walked over to Sereia and she covered her mouth as she yawned.
"Is everything okay?" she asked as we began walking to the elevator.
I handed her the key card. "It is now."
She pointed at the area of my shirt which was stained with her tears. "I'm really sorry about that."
Her cheeks were red due to embarrassment and her eyes were softened.
This was the realest emotion she'd ever shown me.
"This?" I asked as I looked down on the spot. "It's nothing. You don't need to apologize. We all get bad dreams."
"Not like mine," she said as we walked into the elevator.
I pressed the top floor, where the luxury rooms were located, and the doors closed.
"Is this something that occurs often?" I asked her and she remained quiet. "My mother used to get them. They got better once she saw a doctor."
She looked down, clearly not wanting to hear what I had to say.
I mean I don't blame her.
I don't know what thoughts torture her as she sleeps or how to save her.
"At least sleep with Teddy tonight," I insisted and I could see the corner of her lips upturn.
We stood in comfortable silence before the doors finally opened again.
"You can order anything you like," I told her as we exited the elevator and headed to the rooms.
I always took care of my employees and ensured that they were comfortable.
"Thank you, sir," she weakly smiled as we stood in front of her room.
"Well, I guess this is you," I told her. "Good night, Ms. Sinclair."
When I turned around to leave, she grabbed my hand.
My eyes glanced from her perfectly manicured pink, fingertips to her pink, soft lips.
Thrud.
My heart began to race so fast that I could hear it pounding in my head.
It sounded like a drum, relentless and deafening, echoing through my entire body.
What the hell is this?
She let go of my hand. "Goodnight, sir."
She then dragged her suitcase with her into the room, leaving me as confused as ever.
I need a drink.
I scratched my head as I continued my journey to my room.
When I entered the room, a sweet feeling of nostalgia hit me.
I felt it every time I returned.
Fond memories of my older visits with my parents or Blake resurfaced. Those were good times.
I loosened my tie as I closed the door behind me.
I smiled when I saw a bottle of bourbon sitting on the countertop.
Have a good stay, Mr. Harrington.
I pushed the note, which was clearly written by Rachael, to the side as I grabbed a glass and poured my drink into it.
I brought the cup to my head and paused when I remembered what happened earlier.
Her lips were on my cup as I poured the drink into her mouth.
I immediately took another sip of my bourbon.
Why the hell did I do that?
I poured more into my glass as I drank and tried to forget that image.
I continued doing this until I had lost count.
My phone decided to ring and Olivia's name popped up.
I sighed before answering it. "Hey."
"Hey?" she asked. "That's all I get?"
"I'm sorry, I'm just tired," I explained as I poured my drink. "What do you want, Olivia?"
"What I want is to be there with you," she told me. "Do you know how it feels to know that my husband is at a hotel with another bitch?"
"We're sharing separate rooms and it's for business," I explained to her for the tenth time this day.
"But-"
"Olivia stop," I told her. "I don't have any romantic connections with her and I don't have any with you. Stop this right now."
"Maybe you should have a romantic connection with me," she started. "You know our parents are expecting an heir."
Not this again.
I took a mouthful of my drink.
"Can we not talk about this while I'm on a business trip?" I tried to avoid this conversation.
"So when can we?" she spoke angrily. "You don't want to talk about it when we're at home and you don't want to talk about it now!"
I moved the phone away from my ear when she began shouting at me.
I was so naive to believe her when she told me she was content with having a friendship marriage.
My marriage is nothing but a trap, an imprisonment my younger self stupidly agreed to because I was too lazy to seek love.
Now look where that has gotten me.
...
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