Paris

Ch 5 - Laz and Dori

Let it be noted that I've only ever been irresponsible a total of three times in my life.

And as I looked at the sleeping man beside me, I could only change that number to four.

He is sinfully gorgeous, that much is a fact. I don't know why he thought I was worthy of his time, but I'm glad he spoke to me. Not that I don't think that I'm beautiful or anything, but men like him are the kind you find dating a supermodel.

Hell, he looks like a model himself.

I thought back to the previous night and all I could do was smile. Anastasia's boyfriend needed her for something, so she had to leave. She left even before we could go to clubbing, but with the way my night ended, I'm glad we didn't go.

I frowned when I realized that I didn't know this man's name. Our conversation had just flowed so naturally that I guess we didn't pick up that we didn't know each other's names. In the moment it didn't matter though. I was clouded by the butterflies in my stomach.

I blushed, thinking about our time here at the hotel. I don't know where the boldness came from to even suggest that we come here, but once we were here, it didn't matter anymore. I just wanted him to kiss me again.

And one thing led to another, and now here we are.

I got up, wrapping one of the sheets around me as I looked for my phone. When I found it, my eyes widened. I had three hours before my flight. I quickly gathered my stuff and silently left the room to go and get dressed in the lounge. When I was done, with my heels in my hand, I returned the sheet to the room.

He was still fast asleep, and I couldn't help but just stare at him. He is a beautiful person, inside and out, even though he told me that people don't like him. I don't know why they wouldn't. He's charming, he's funny, he's sensitive and he's caring.

Or at least that's what I picked up from our time together.

I looked around for a pen and paper, and I was lucky to find a notepad and pen with the hotel's logo on it. I quickly wrote down a note for him because I didn't want to wake him up. I put the note on the side table before bravely kissing his forehead. He sighed and smiled, making me smile to myself before I walked out of the hotel room.

I put my shoes on and headed to the elevator. Once it opened, it revealed two beautiful women who seemed to be stressed about something.

"I'm going to kill him," the brunette said angrily.

"Babe, you need to calm down. He's probably safe and we're worrying for nothing," the blonde said.

"This is Cuba we're talking about Ingrid. There's no telling what he's done," the brunette argued.

Cuba?

"Excuse me, did you just Cuba?" I asked her.

She looked at me weirdly. "Yes, why?"

"As in Cuba Diaz? Ricardo Diaz' grandson?" I asked.

"Yes. Do you know where he is?" she asked.

"No, but I've been trying to reach him all week," I replied.

"You're London?" they both asked.

"Wait! So he got my messages?" I counter asked.

They nodded before the brunette spoke. "He's crushed that he couldn't make it, but someone tried to kill him. He was hospitalized the same day that he called to say he was coming. By the time he woke up, you'd already left the voicemail with the sad news. We arrived last night, but now we don't know where he is."