Hiring Mr. Darcy - Valerie Bowman Page 0,63

I couldn’t manage to say anything. My introversion had been severely tested by the hours in the airports, and my battery was drained. By the time we arrived at the hotel at the upper crescent, all I wanted was a hot shower and a long nap.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” the young blonde hostess said in her prim accent after I’d given her my name and asked for our two rooms. “I only see one room on this reservation.”

“No. No. No,” I said, smiling for Jeremy’s sake. “I specifically asked for two rooms.”

She clicked away at her computer for a few more seconds before saying, “Was your reservation previously under another name?”

My heart shimmied up my neck and lodged in my throat like a fat little pumpkin. “Um, yes,” I squeaked. “Macomb. But I transferred the reservation to my name over two weeks ago and specifically requested a second room.”

“I’m showing that Dr. Macomb has two rooms now, but your reservation still only shows one.”

“Well, that’s a mistake.” I was desperately trying not to screech because I didn’t want Jeremy to think I was a screecher. “We definitely need two rooms.”

I smiled at Jeremy, who merely smiled back and pushed his hands in his jean pockets.

More clicking ensued before the hostess said, “I’m sorry, Dr. Knightley, but we’re completely booked because of the festival. There are no more rooms.”

I let my head drop onto my hands, which were calmly folded atop the counter. “Of course you are.”

“Can we get a rollaway, or is there a couch in the room?” Jeremy asked jovially from my side.

“There is a sofa in the room,” the young lady offered helpfully.

“I don’t suppose any of the other hotels in town would have any more rooms?” I asked, a sinking feeling already spreading through my gut.

“I can call ‘round and ask, but I doubt it,” the hostess replied, biting her lip.

“It’s fine, Meg. I can take the couch,” Jeremy offered. “As long as you don’t mind sharing the room.”

“It’s quite a short sofa,” the young woman added, eyeing Jeremy’s height.

“I’ll make do,” Jeremy replied.

I pointed one finger in the air to indicate to the hostess that we needed a moment to discuss our options, then I discreetly pulled him over to a nearby wall.

“Jeremy,” I whispered. “You’ve been extremely magnanimous this entire time. In fact, I’ve never seen a more happy-go-lucky traveler, but you should not be forced to share a room.”

“But there aren’t any more rooms in this hotel,” he pointed out. The man was obviously far more reasonable than I was after twelve hours of travel.

I knew he was right, but I was still hanging onto the last shred of hope. How awkward would it be to share a room with Hottie McFox for four nights? He would learn that I wore a green facemask at night, and he’d probably see my bare feet. “We might be able to find one somewhere else.”

Jeremy shifted his weight to his other foot. “Didn’t you say this is the best place in town and the hub of all the festival activities?”

“Yes, but we need two rooms.” I hoped my voice wasn’t sounding whiny. Besides, all of this would be a moot point if the hostess couldn’t find us another room. Where was Patsy, the hotel manager, when you needed her? I’d met her on my previous stay.

“Okay, we can have her check, but I’m fine with sharing and taking the couch if you are,” Jeremy finished.

The hostess, who had been frantically making phone calls since we moved to the wall, cleared her throat. “Doctor, I called the three other places I know of and they’re all full too.”

“Of course they are.” I sighed.

“Looks like we’re rooming together.” Jeremy said with another bright smile. Did nothing ruffle this man? He strolled back over to the desk. “We’ll take the room.”

If flying across the ocean with a hottie was awkward, sharing a hotel room—a small cozy, old, English hotel room—with one was like the Awkward Olympics. The room ensuite consisted of a narrow hallway with a lavatory on one side. It contained a tub with a shower inside, a small toilet, and the tiniest sink I’d ever seen. Past the bathroom was the bedroom that housed a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, a couch that could easily pass for a wide chair, and a small wooden table and desk chair. In the first five minutes in the room, Jeremy and I bumped into each other at least three times and then did