anything
else.
The car rolls around a
wide bend, and the trees open up to reveal a wide, still lake palely reflecting
the surrounding mountains. The sky is clear, and the afternoon sun makes the
autumn leaves feel warm. Across the lake, Rama can see a sprawling stone
structure. It reminds him of the castles in England and he feels an unexpected
pang of longing.
Ever since his meeting
with Emma, seeing his and Caleb’s plan, dreamt up over Cha Yen and weed—he’s
been feeling that lost, lonely feeling. He shakes his head, trying to banish it
and memories of the blue-eyed prince.
They follow the road
around the lake, and pull up to the front doors. Everything is stone and glass,
sleek brushed metal fixtures and straight-backed attendants. Seth shrugs into
his coat as his driver gets out to open his door.
“How did you find out this is here?” Rama
wonders.
Seth's grin deepens, and
he says, “Every piece of real estate has a price.”
His door opens, and Rama
watches the king unfold himself from the car, as though all the people of the
land have gathered to see this glorious arrival. Rama scoffs softly. Seth makes
it seem so easy to believe the whole world wants him. Pretty soon, Emma will be
the same damn way.
He pushes aside the
thought, and follows Seth into the fall afternoon. It feels good to stretch his
legs. He slips his hands into his pockets as a bellhop sidles up to them.
“Good afternoon, Mr.
Morgan. Please, follow me.”
They are led through the
glass double doors in a wide reception area. A stone fireplace is alight in the
middle of it, surrounded by earthy shaded couches and chaise lounges. Rama
tucks his sunglasses into his jacket pocket, and lets his liquid eyes roll over
the scene. Everything about the place screams of opulent elite.
They are greeted by a
man in his early sixties, wearing a black suit, red face, and stupid smile. He
says, “Mr. Morgan, I'm Nicholas Hamilton, the proprietor of this
establishment.” The men shake hands.
Nicholas says, “Would you like a drink, or a cigar? I just got in
some fine Cubans.”
Seth allows a smirk, but
just for a flash before he turns the smile into appreciative. He says, “Maybe
just some water.”
The girl behind the
counter scrambles to a bottle of mineral, and pours into two crystal tumblers.
She hurries around to present them to the guests. Rama watches Seth's charm in
action, watches the girl blush when he smiles, and says thanks. He holds that
smile as he takes a drink.
“I've arranged for you
to have full access to the resort. I also offer any of our services
complimentary,” Hamilton says with that big, ridiculous smile.
He hands them both
lanyards with red cards attached.
“My security and staff
will recognize these and cooperate with you. Would you like me to show you
around?”
“No need,” Seth says
coolly, slipping the card into his pocket. “We'll just have a look around, if
that's alright.”
“Of course,” says
Hamilton. “Anything you need, just ask. We have also opened one of our empty
suites, number fifteen, for your viewing pleasure.”
Seth smiles, a sure,
slow thing, and says, “Thanks so much, Mr. Hamilton.”
Rama notices that the
two of them still have the attention of the young brunette behind the counter.
They've also caught the eye of the forty-something woman playing the baby grand
in the corner. Likewise, the dolled-up barely-twenty-one blonde girl sitting
beside the man in his fifties. The old man doesn't notice because his hand is
on her inner thigh, and his lips are against her ear. Rama smirks at her, and
she flushes. He can recognize one of his own.
Then, he and Seth are
brushing past the resort's owner toward another set of glass doors. Rama
doesn't look back, doesn't need to look to know there are eyes burning into his
back—he accepts it much as Seth, as the adoration due royalty. They enter a
long hallway and follow it until they meet a parallel hallway. A
else.
The car rolls around a
wide bend, and the trees open up to reveal a wide, still lake palely reflecting
the surrounding mountains. The sky is clear, and the afternoon sun makes the
autumn leaves feel warm. Across the lake, Rama can see a sprawling stone
structure. It reminds him of the castles in England and he feels an unexpected
pang of longing.
Ever since his meeting
with Emma, seeing his and Caleb’s plan, dreamt up over Cha Yen and weed—he’s
been feeling that lost, lonely feeling. He shakes his head, trying to banish it
and memories of the blue-eyed prince.
They follow the road
around the lake, and pull up to the front doors. Everything is stone and glass,
sleek brushed metal fixtures and straight-backed attendants. Seth shrugs into
his coat as his driver gets out to open his door.
“How did you find out this is here?” Rama
wonders.
Seth's grin deepens, and
he says, “Every piece of real estate has a price.”
His door opens, and Rama
watches the king unfold himself from the car, as though all the people of the
land have gathered to see this glorious arrival. Rama scoffs softly. Seth makes
it seem so easy to believe the whole world wants him. Pretty soon, Emma will be
the same damn way.
He pushes aside the
thought, and follows Seth into the fall afternoon. It feels good to stretch his
legs. He slips his hands into his pockets as a bellhop sidles up to them.
“Good afternoon, Mr.
Morgan. Please, follow me.”
They are led through the
glass double doors in a wide reception area. A stone fireplace is alight in the
middle of it, surrounded by earthy shaded couches and chaise lounges. Rama
tucks his sunglasses into his jacket pocket, and lets his liquid eyes roll over
the scene. Everything about the place screams of opulent elite.
They are greeted by a
man in his early sixties, wearing a black suit, red face, and stupid smile. He
says, “Mr. Morgan, I'm Nicholas Hamilton, the proprietor of this
establishment.” The men shake hands.
Nicholas says, “Would you like a drink, or a cigar? I just got in
some fine Cubans.”
Seth allows a smirk, but
just for a flash before he turns the smile into appreciative. He says, “Maybe
just some water.”
The girl behind the
counter scrambles to a bottle of mineral, and pours into two crystal tumblers.
She hurries around to present them to the guests. Rama watches Seth's charm in
action, watches the girl blush when he smiles, and says thanks. He holds that
smile as he takes a drink.
“I've arranged for you
to have full access to the resort. I also offer any of our services
complimentary,” Hamilton says with that big, ridiculous smile.
He hands them both
lanyards with red cards attached.
“My security and staff
will recognize these and cooperate with you. Would you like me to show you
around?”
“No need,” Seth says
coolly, slipping the card into his pocket. “We'll just have a look around, if
that's alright.”
“Of course,” says
Hamilton. “Anything you need, just ask. We have also opened one of our empty
suites, number fifteen, for your viewing pleasure.”
Seth smiles, a sure,
slow thing, and says, “Thanks so much, Mr. Hamilton.”
Rama notices that the
two of them still have the attention of the young brunette behind the counter.
They've also caught the eye of the forty-something woman playing the baby grand
in the corner. Likewise, the dolled-up barely-twenty-one blonde girl sitting
beside the man in his fifties. The old man doesn't notice because his hand is
on her inner thigh, and his lips are against her ear. Rama smirks at her, and
she flushes. He can recognize one of his own.
Then, he and Seth are
brushing past the resort's owner toward another set of glass doors. Rama
doesn't look back, doesn't need to look to know there are eyes burning into his
back—he accepts it much as Seth, as the adoration due royalty. They enter a
long hallway and follow it until they meet a parallel hallway. A
Similar Books
