Twenty Seven Tasks (On Hold)

Chapter Five

"Please say something."

I pull out my headphones to hear Owen's muffled pleas. I pause my music, meeting his gaze with my unenthusiastic one.

"What?"

He sighs. "I'm sorry. I understand what I said hurt you. I'm . . . worried that something is going to happen to you again. And I don't want it to be because of me, and I don't want to watch you die in front of me again."

His words are like the ocean at night, freezing and satisfying. The panicked look and grind of his words more sentimental than he has ever been. I smile apologetically and hug Owen awkwardly between the airplane seat belts. A sound of claps around us jerks us back to reality.

I look around to see everyone on the plane clapping with large smiles on their faces. An old man sitting beside Owen smiles, his wrinkles getting wrinkles.

"Bout time ye finally hea him oat."

I smile, Owen's face glowing brightly from embarrassment. I smack his chest as the claps settle down and the intercom clicks on.

"Get ready for landing, it'll be bumpy."

I hold onto my seatbelt as the plane lands, rocking us all forward. As we land safely people begin to gather there things, neck pillows, purses, books, etc.

︽︾︽

The hotel is the most expensive one in New York. As Owen and I pull up in front of the hotel in our rented car we both exchange a shocked glance.

"Your dad booked us here?"

I glance down at dad's message. The address matching the small golden letters beside the doorman. His silver hair giving off the opposite vibe of the perfectly tailored suit. His eyes a dark green that could pierce through a wall. His body titled to face the doorway as he motions an elderly couple into the hotel. He isn't old, probably around my age. The sign above him is painted in shiny bright gold paint.

Coûteux Un Hôtel.

"Huh?"

I smile. "It's French. Meaning expensive hotel. Of course, dad would pick here."

I climb from the car as Owen finds an empty parking spot on the crowded roads. I sling my bag over my shoulder as my suit case wrestles to stay behind. I look down at the wheels, trying to get them free from the pebbles.

"Stupid case! I swear to—"

My words are cut off as I slam into a hard surface. Grumbling as I rub my nose and checking for blood, a laugh cuts off my swearing. Drawing my gaze from my fallen bag.

The doorman is bent over from laughter, his hands placed on his knees. I grind my teeth, slinging my bag back over my shoulder.

"Whats so funny?"

"Y-You ran into a door!"

He stands up to just bend back over from laughter again. I roll my eyes, moving my windblown hair from my eyes and try to collect the pieces if my dignity lying on the ground with my suit case.

"It's your job to hold the door open. Your a doorman. Learn how to do your job or I'll get you fired."

"Haven't heard that before," The doorman rolls his eyes.

My temper flares as I forget my luggage and storm towards him. I shove an accusing finger on his chest, meeting his handsome eyes. From the close distance I can see his perfectly chiseled jawline and those thin pink lips carrying a smug smirk.