Dr. Stud

“Well, Bunny, I guess tomorrow’s a new day,” I tell the mirror, “and here it comes. Ready or not.”

Rather than take a shower right away, I decide to see if there’s a pool or anything in the hotel. I get my hair back in order and scrub the flaky mascara from under my eyes. Then I change into a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra and loose tank top. Swiping my key card from the table, I head out into the empty hallway, hoping for the best.

All of this is completely new to me. I guess I really was tipsy, because I do not remember this hallway at all. And this carpeting is so crazy, I’m sure it would have left an impression on me. It’s all zigzags and flowers, stretching for about a hundred feet to the elevator at the far end.

Strangely, I want to tiptoe. I want to hold my breath. I imagine there are people asleep behind all of these other doors, and I don’t want to disturb anyone.

In the lobby, businesspeople rush toward the exits, distracted by their cell phones. Some people wait in line to check out at the reception desk. Everyone here is so well-dressed, it’s like another world. Not like super-fancy, just like regular clothes... but better. People are wearing the designer stuff I always wanted from magazines. Better shoes. Non-knockoff handbags. Sunglasses that cost more than Dahlia’s car.

Crossing my arms over my chest self-consciously, I wait for a nice-looking lady to be available at the reception counter before walking up to her. She raises her eyebrows at me in a friendly, welcoming expression.

“Miss Bunny? Good morning. How can I help you?”

My smile freezes on my face as I try to adjust to the fact that everybody here seems to know who I am.

“Oh, I was just wondering, is there a workout room or something? Swimming pool?”

“Certainly,” she smiles, opening a brochure on the marble counter. She points to the photograph of the swimming pool with her gel-coated fingernail.

“I can show you,” comes a voice at my side.

I startle and glance up at him, momentarily confused. He looks like Royce, but different. Not as big as Sully. A little younger than Royce.

“Spencer Worth,” he says in a gentle voice, holding out his hand.

I shake his hand, smiling at how formal he’s being. Still, it’s very charming, the way he’s pretending not to know what I’ve been doing with his brothers.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I answer. “And it’s nice of you to offer to take me. Can we stop back at my suite so I can change clothes?”

Holding out a hand toward the elevator, he gestures for me to begin walking. I can feel various employees watching us as we cross the marble floor. When we are out of earshot, Spencer ti

ps his head toward me without changing his pace.

“Actually, I’m very pleased to find you this morning. Would you like to meet Sophia?”

My heart jumps in my chest. Already?

Of course, already, I remind myself. That’s what I’m here to do!

“I mean, assuming you didn’t have concrete plans?” he continues politely. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but she’s always very easygoing in the morning. And I know that Sully was very interested for you to meet her.”

So they have been talking about me, I note to myself. Interesting! I wonder what else Spencer knows about me.

“No… I mean, that would be wonderful!” I assure him. “As a matter of fact, I really didn’t have any plans at all. I’m happy to have something on my schedule, and really excited to meet her. Is what I’m wearing okay?”

Just before we reach the elevators, he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. Though his face hardly changes, I can tell he’s enjoying looking at me.

“Absolutely,” he assures me.

The elevator goes all the way back up to the top floor, making me wonder just how many penthouses there are in this hotel. Spencer leads me down the hallway to double doors at the end and opens the right side, holding it so that I can enter.

“Magda?” he calls out. “Sophia has a visitor.”

The suite is beautiful, painted like an immense nursery. I suppose they decided this particular set of rooms would belong to Sophia alone.

“This is one of our largest suites,” Spencer explains in a low voice as though he read my mind.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, glancing at him. He definitely has a softer look than Royce. Like he’s more thoughtful, probably reads more books. Out of all of them, he looks the most like a romantic lead in a movie. The Ryan Gosling of the Worth brothers.