Read Online Fighting for My Best Friend (Fated #4) by Hazel Kelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Hazel Kelly
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can’t-”
I pointed across the main hall towards the room where the
reception was being held. “You know the Briggs-Thompson wedding going on down
the hall?”
“Yes.”
“The one that’s responsible for four hundred of your rooms being
booked this weekend?”
“Yes.”
“Well my name is Aiden Briggs and my Dad booked those rooms.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I’d hate to interrupt him right now because you won’t let
me go make sure my date isn’t unwell.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is your privacy policy really more important than me going to
make sure she’s not dead up there?”
Barry’s face dropped.
I was two seconds away from reaching in my pocket and handing
the weasel a hundred bucks to squeal.
“415.”
I felt disgusted having to use my Dad’s clout to get what I
wanted, but when it came to finding Lucy in a hurry, there was nothing I
wouldn’t do.
Moments later, I was pacing in the elevator like a caged animal.
When the door opened, I turned the corner so fast I nearly knocked into an old
lady whose hip would’ve shattered if she’d hit the floor.
Fortunately, I was able to keep her from falling. Then I stuck
around to make sure she caught the elevator safely, which was good because it
gave me a second to calm down before I found the hallway leading to Lucy’s
room.
I knocked on the door when I arrived. When there was no answer,
I knocked again much louder.
“Lucy, open up. It’s me.” I banged again.
Then I heard the chain being unhooked and saw the door handle
point down to the floor.
She opened the door and looked at me.
It was obvious from her face that she’d been resting and when I
saw how fragile she looked in the dim light, I felt the volume of my voice
decrease exponentially. “What are you doing up here?”
She tilted her head. “This is my room,” she said. “What are you
doing up here?”
“Looking for you, obviously.”
She put her bare arm out to the side and flared her fingers.
“Well, you found me.”
“Can I come in?”
She took a step back, taking the door with her.
I stepped inside. There was a bottle of champagne half empty on
the table and the sheer curtains were drawn so the room was dim with soft
evening light.
“You having your own party up here?” I asked.
She shrugged.
I looked from the dent her body had made in the bedspread to her
slightly disheveled hair. She looked hot as hell in her lazy state.
“I just needed a break,” she said.
“A break from answering your phone?” I asked, sitting on the end
of the bed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I think I fell asleep for a few minutes.”
“Let’s just hope my Dad isn’t doing the same thing in the middle
of the dance floor.”
“I thought he could do anything he wants on this, the day of his
daughter’s wedding?”
Her Godfather impression was bad when she wasn’t tipsy, but this
attempt was a joke. “It’s that you have to grant any request,” I said. “Not
that you can do what you want.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s both.”
“Maybe,” I said, admiring the way the yellow dress hung off her
hips.
“Champagne?” she asked.
“That would be great,” I said. “God forbid I sober up.”
She smiled and filled the empty glass.
I took it. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” she said, walking over to grab her own glass off the
night table. “Is Chelsea okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay in the head or okay as in gone?”
She sat next to me on the bed. “Both.”
“I’m settling for the latter.”
She nodded. “I guess she took the break up pretty hard, huh?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think she just wanted to
make sure I was taking it hard.” I took a sip of champagne.
“And are you?”
“What?”
“Taking it hard?”
I turned to look at her. “No. Are you kidding? Breaking up with
her is the second best thing I’ve done in a long time.”
Her dark eyes searched mine. “Second best?”
I nodded.
“What’s the
I pointed across the main hall towards the room where the
reception was being held. “You know the Briggs-Thompson wedding going on down
the hall?”
“Yes.”
“The one that’s responsible for four hundred of your rooms being
booked this weekend?”
“Yes.”
“Well my name is Aiden Briggs and my Dad booked those rooms.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I’d hate to interrupt him right now because you won’t let
me go make sure my date isn’t unwell.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is your privacy policy really more important than me going to
make sure she’s not dead up there?”
Barry’s face dropped.
I was two seconds away from reaching in my pocket and handing
the weasel a hundred bucks to squeal.
“415.”
I felt disgusted having to use my Dad’s clout to get what I
wanted, but when it came to finding Lucy in a hurry, there was nothing I
wouldn’t do.
Moments later, I was pacing in the elevator like a caged animal.
When the door opened, I turned the corner so fast I nearly knocked into an old
lady whose hip would’ve shattered if she’d hit the floor.
Fortunately, I was able to keep her from falling. Then I stuck
around to make sure she caught the elevator safely, which was good because it
gave me a second to calm down before I found the hallway leading to Lucy’s
room.
I knocked on the door when I arrived. When there was no answer,
I knocked again much louder.
“Lucy, open up. It’s me.” I banged again.
Then I heard the chain being unhooked and saw the door handle
point down to the floor.
She opened the door and looked at me.
It was obvious from her face that she’d been resting and when I
saw how fragile she looked in the dim light, I felt the volume of my voice
decrease exponentially. “What are you doing up here?”
She tilted her head. “This is my room,” she said. “What are you
doing up here?”
“Looking for you, obviously.”
She put her bare arm out to the side and flared her fingers.
“Well, you found me.”
“Can I come in?”
She took a step back, taking the door with her.
I stepped inside. There was a bottle of champagne half empty on
the table and the sheer curtains were drawn so the room was dim with soft
evening light.
“You having your own party up here?” I asked.
She shrugged.
I looked from the dent her body had made in the bedspread to her
slightly disheveled hair. She looked hot as hell in her lazy state.
“I just needed a break,” she said.
“A break from answering your phone?” I asked, sitting on the end
of the bed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I think I fell asleep for a few minutes.”
“Let’s just hope my Dad isn’t doing the same thing in the middle
of the dance floor.”
“I thought he could do anything he wants on this, the day of his
daughter’s wedding?”
Her Godfather impression was bad when she wasn’t tipsy, but this
attempt was a joke. “It’s that you have to grant any request,” I said. “Not
that you can do what you want.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s both.”
“Maybe,” I said, admiring the way the yellow dress hung off her
hips.
“Champagne?” she asked.
“That would be great,” I said. “God forbid I sober up.”
She smiled and filled the empty glass.
I took it. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” she said, walking over to grab her own glass off the
night table. “Is Chelsea okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay in the head or okay as in gone?”
She sat next to me on the bed. “Both.”
“I’m settling for the latter.”
She nodded. “I guess she took the break up pretty hard, huh?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think she just wanted to
make sure I was taking it hard.” I took a sip of champagne.
“And are you?”
“What?”
“Taking it hard?”
I turned to look at her. “No. Are you kidding? Breaking up with
her is the second best thing I’ve done in a long time.”
Her dark eyes searched mine. “Second best?”
I nodded.
“What’s the
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