Read Online She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) by Jessica Calla - Free Book Online

on?” He steps into my room. “Who are these guys?”
    “I don’t know.” I shrug and put the pen down. “They’re awfully rude though.” One of the Indian guys hangs clothes in the empty closet while another makes the bed.
    “Hey,” Rocco barks, as a crowd gathers in the hallway. Winston and Rodrigo poke their heads in. Ben, wet and wrapped in a towel, must have stepped right out of the shower. Even though I hate him right now, I take a second to appreciate his broad chest and clean-shaven face. Even Poppy joins the fun, giggling at the Indian brigade hauling stuff into my room.
    Suitcase Man approaches me. “Are you Juliet Anderson?”
    Rocco steps in front of him. “Who wants to know?”
    Ben climbs over a designer suitcase. “You okay, Jules?”
    “I was just getting ready to leave, and these guys had a key. Scared the shit out of me.”
    Ben and Rocco cross their arms over their chests, which is a sight since they are both so huge and imposing and Ben’s nearly naked. Suitcase Man extends his arm between them to me. He holds an envelope with my name on it. “From Pooja.”
    I take it from him and my bodyguards relax. “Who’s Pooja?”
    “Your roommate. You are truly blessed.” Suitcase Man bows politely, smiles at the baffled bodybuilder and the toweled boy in front of me, and continues his mission. Pooja’s minions ignore us as they set up her side of the room.
    Poppy peeks in from the hallway. “Well? Are you going to read it?”
    Ben, Rocco, Poppy, Winston, and Rodrigo eye me. Megan joins us, blushing furiously when she sees Ben in his towel. “What’s going on?” she asks.
    “Jules got a note from the mystery roommate.” I’m glad Ben’s eyes are on me and the note and not Megan.
    “What does it say?”
    “She didn’t open it yet.”
    “Open it, Kiki!” Rodrigo and the others have been wondering about my roommate, too, apparently.
    I look around at these new people in my world as color begins to fill the other side of the room. The men smooth Pooja’s beautifully embroidered comforter, red with gold threads, over the bed and hang a lovely tapestry on the wall. They lay throw pillows of all colors on the bed. One man sets up a series of statues over colorful placemats on the empty dresser, while another pulls little figurines out of a box.
    Everyone watches me unfold the note and touch the fancy “P” embedded on the front. The thick paper is heavy in my hands as I read the handwritten note aloud:
     
    Dear Juliet Anderson,
     
    I am sorry for this intrusion and for my delay in joining you. I had late summer business to attend to in India. These men are setting up my room so I will not have to when I arrive on Saturday. I have a busy schedule this weekend.
     
    I told them, what you say goes. My phone number is below if they give you a problem. I look forward to meeting you and hope all is going well.
     
    See you Saturday,
    Pooja Pravali
     
    The note results in more questions than answers as my friends bombard the men for details. “Business to attend to in India? Is she, like, a princess or something?”
    “Oh, she has business so she must be a princess because she’s a girl?”
    “An Indian princess at NJU?”
    “Do they even have princesses in India?”
    “Why are we talking about princesses? Maybe she’s a volunteer or something.”
    Suitcase Man smiles. “She is not a princess in the Western sense of the word. But she is royalty amongst us.”
    “Royalty? At NJU? Who gets a group of guys to unpack her shit for her?” Poppy asks. I have to agree that, princess or not, Pooja Pravali seems like a powerful woman. I could use a powerful woman in my life. I can’t wait to meet her.
    As the men finish splaying color throughout the room, I usher them out the door.
    “Can you come do that to my room?” Poppy asks, following them down the hallway. Everyone leaves except Megan.
    “Pooja sounds interesting,” she comments, checking out the statues on Pooja’s