My Kind Of Perfection(EDITING)

40. Room Service

It's so hard to believe that we're on chapter 40 already. AHHHH 

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                                   @heingirl_mkop

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"Room service!" A cheery voice from the other side of the door calls. I frown and walk to the door, still towel drying my hair.

"I'm sorry, there must have been a mistake..." I mutter as I open the door.

The young man in hotel dress looks confused, looking down at his paper. "No mistake. This IS room 346, right?"

"Um, yes. But I didn't order any-"

"Well, this is supposed to go here, so I dunno what to tell ya, lady." The guy looks at me expectantly, holding out a clipboard.

I stop and throw the towel in the direction of the chair. "Well. I didn't order anything, so I'm not paying for this food. I'm sorry but you're going to have to explain to the manager..."

He frowns. "ma'am. It says someone already paid. Just sign the paper saying you got it."

I blink at the food cart suspiciously. "How often do people just buy food for people?"

The hotel employee looks a combination of surprised and pissed. "It doesn't happen very often, but I was given direct orders to deliver this to you."

"How are you sure it wasn't poisoned?"

"Excuse me?! I'll have you know Claude is a fantastic cook! None of the food is...Poisoned..." He shudders.

"Of course this prissy hotel has a French cook." I mutter to myself.

"Prissy?" he snaps, looking offended.

"Sorry. I was just wondering. I'm a tourist..."

"As is basically everyone in this hotel." He points out.

"I'm just saying, I don't know anybody...not anyone that would give me food anyway." I add.

"Well. Someone did. It was a man, about 45 maybe? He walked in like he owned the place. Bodyguards and all. Everyone got excited and started taking pictures...." He shrugs. "A celebrity, maybe? I don't keep track of these things... Anyway! He went to the front desk and DEMANDED to know which room a 'Kasey Ashugh' was in." He peers at me.

"Yeah, that's me but who-"

"Shush! I'm not done remembering! Okay, yeah. So after a while, we finally gave it to him, and he went and ordered food to be delivered to this room. Also this paper." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a folded paper.

I frown at it. "What did he look like?"

"Hmm, let me think. Strong jaw, muscular...around 45/50? He was tall like...6'5"? Oh!" he blinks at me excitedly. "He also had red hair. Bright Red....Like, like..." he looks around for something to compare it to.

Butterflies start swirling around in my stomach. Could it be?

"Like YOURS!" he announces, pointing.

My mouth drops open. Bodyguards, paparazzi, Tall, Attractive, 45, hair the same as mine?

My Father.

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"Halloo? Can you hear me, miss?" my face is patted gently a few times before I realize someone's talking.

I sit up, groggy. "Wha?"

"Miss! You just collapsed like a bag of bricks!"

"Here. Gimme the clipboard." I hold out a hand.

"Um, okay. Here." He hands it to me and I scribble my signature onto the line.

"Just put the food in the kitchen." I order.

He looks shocked, but quickly regains his composure and complies.

"Thanks. If I need anything else I'll call." I close the door behind him, and slide down with my back leaning against it, the paper clenched tightly in my hand.

I read it and stare at the wall in shocked silence until the phone rings. Without looking at it, I grab it and press talk.

"H-hello?"

Jake's relieved voice is on the other end. "Kasey! Thank goodness! I wanted to talk to you..."

"Bye, Jakeopher." I mumble, taking the phone away from my ear. I can't handle this right now.

"I want to explain! Wait, Kase-"I press the end button and shut off my phone.

I don't understand...why does he keep calling me? Why did my dad order me room service, and hand me a note inviting me to dinner? Why all of this, and WHY NOW?

I crumble the note and throw it across the room in frustration. As it hits the ground, my room phone rings.

What now?

"Kasey Ashugh." I answer.

"Kase, let me speak to you for like, 2 minut-"I slam the phone down with a chuckle at how satisfying that is. How dare these cell phone people take these simple pleasures away from us by making touch phones?

Just for fun I pick it up and slam it down a few more times. Ah fuck, I've officially lost it.

As I'm about to pick it up again, it rings. I slowly let go of it and watch it ring and ring, debating whether or not I should answer it. What if it's important?

"Hello?" I answer slowly.

"Kasey?" A male voice answers.

"Okay! Seriously! You used me! I don't wanna fucking talk to you! Get lost!" I yell. Seriously? Stop calling me. Every time I hear his voice it's like being stabbed once again.

"Oh. Um, okay..." he responds.

"Wait. Who's this?" I feel my face turn red. I just screamed my head off at some random guy.

"Andrew. Andrew Scott. Is this Kasey-uh-Ashugh?"

"HO...LY. SHIT." I drop the phone as if its hot metal, then scramble to pick it up. "Sorry, uh- Andrew." I don't know what to call him.

"That's okay. I'm not even gonna ask...I don't really have time to talk, so read the note and if you agree, meet me there. If you don't show I'll know your answer." He says quickly.

"I don't understand..." I frown. 

"Read the note that was delivered and enjoy your brunch. See you suppertime...hopefully..." he says quieter.

"Um, ok. I'll talk to you later I guess."

"Until then." He hangs up.

Now I'm more confused then I was before I came here.

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NO HATERS, PLEASE!

JAKE ISN'T BEING A 'WEIRD, CLINGY BASTARD' *cough cough* EVERYONE!

Look at it from his point of view okay? She just burst into tears in his office, dumped him, and then ran to California, never returning his calls.

And also (boys don't take offence) men are reallyreallyreallyreally dumb sometimes. He has no clue what he did wrong, no way to know how to fix it, and is too scared to ask for help. Just you wait, guys. 

Okay I gotta go before I spoil too much.

I know it wasn't very eventful, but I hope you liked? VOTE MY BEAUTIFUL HUMANS!!

Cassi