Hollywood Playboy (Hollywood Royalty 1)

Opening it, I’m surprised to see that it’s Yamina. “Hey there, sorry but there has been a mix-up.” I look at her. “You see, they promised us that everyone would be on one floor, but you somehow got a different floor.”

I smile at her. “Oh, that is okay,” I tell her. “I really don’t mind, and besides, we are only here for three days, so it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. “We don’t want you to feel like you’re the castaway.”

“Nope.” I smile at her. “Perfectly okay.”

“Great. See you tomorrow morning bright and early,” she says, turning around and walking away. I close the door and go to my purse, grabbing the itinerary that I’ve folded up in there and see we have to be in the lobby at eight forty-five for a photo op. Great. I pick up the phone and order room service. They tell me it should take thirty-five minutes. I wheel my luggage over, and throwing it on the floor, I open it and grab the outfit I’m going to wear for tomorrow along with my workout clothes for first thing in the morning. I grab my toiletries and my pajamas and head to the shower to wash away the grimy feeling of being on a plane for thirteen long hours.

My eyes burn with how tired they are, so by the time I’m done in the shower, I’m ready to fall asleep, but I’m forced to wait for the room service knock. Thankfully, it comes as soon as I sit on the bed. He comes in and leaves the tray on the table, an exhausted thank you escaping my lips as I hand him a tip. I try to sit down and eat, but my eyes just keep shutting, so I give up trying to eat and opt for the comfort of my bed instead of the comfort of food. I grab my phone and press the button on the bedside table and the shades slowly start rolling down. My God, I need this feature in my life. I shut off the television and plug in my phone.

I’m pretty sure I fall dead asleep as my head makes its way to the pillow, and I sleep through the night until my alarm rings at six a.m. I groan, feeling like I just shut my eyes not even five minutes ago. Grabbing the phone, I run through the emails that have come in from the other side of the world during my slumber. Thankfully, there is still not much going on, so I throw the covers aside and make my way to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and then dress in my workout gear. My black yoga pants are snug to my knees, a matching black workout spandex top completes the look as I tie my hair on the top of my head in a ponytail. Bending over to tie my black Nike runners, I think I look somewhat human, and I know that once I start my workout, I will come alive a bit more. I’m about to make jet lag my bitch in the gym.

I grab the key card, my phone, and a bottle of water and make my way up to the gym. The elevator arrives in record time, and when I step into the gym, I see I’m the only one here. The gym takes up the whole floor, and the whole room feels open with floor-to-ceiling windows again. I walk over to the treadmill, confident I’m the only one here as I place the water bottle in the cup holder and start the machine. I turn the television on my treadmill to CNN while I warm up with a slow walk. I’m about to speed things up when I hear someone on the treadmill next to me. Looking over, I about trip over my feet when I see who it is.

“Morning,” Tyler says gruffly. I continue walking, watching his reflection in the glass. He doesn’t start by walking like me. Instead, he starts off on a soft jog. He wears white basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt. He doesn’t turn on his television either; he just watches mine while he runs.

I increase my speed to a run. I’m not trying to keep up with him, just trying to ignore his presence, but he’s making it almost impossible. “Who did you vote for?” he asks when CNN starts talking about the latest scandal hitting the White House.

I shake my head at his question, my ponytail going nuts. “No,” I huff out as I run a bit faster, a bit harder. “Not going to happen.” I look over and see a confused look on his face. “I never talk about politics.”

He laughs now. “You don’t talk about who you voted for, or you don’t talk about politics?” he says, his breathing starting to huff. He increases his speed a bit.