Page 7 of Better Watch Out
“Room service, ma’am.”
“I didn’t order room service.”
The hotel employee looked confused. Checked the card on the tray. “You’re Ms. Francis Frost?”
“Yes,” she answered hesitantly. Ryan had sent Frannie at least three emails warning her that New York wasn’t Walton and that she needed to be on her guard. He told her what to watch out for, sent her self-defense videos, and then a week before her trip, a package arrived in the mail—a keychain bottle of pepper spray. She thought it was overkill but packed it anyway.
“Then I have your breakfast.” The hotel employee’s smile was beginning to look strained. “Courtesy of Mrs. Vivian Frost.”
He handed her the note and Frannie’s eyes teared up reading it.
I don’t know about bagels but crème brulée French toast sounds amazing! Love—V
Frannie unlocked the door and the hotel employee entered and set her breakfast down on the table. When she assured him she was all set, he left and Frannie re-locked the door before doing a little skip to the table. She’d never had room service before and felt like a queen.
She opened the silver lid covering the plate and squealed with delight. Berries and powdered sugar dusted the giant pieces of French toast, making it look more like a dessert than breakfast. She took the carafe of coffee and poured herself a cup, adding cream and sugar until it was just right. Before taking a bite, she grabbed her cell phone and sent a thank-you text to Vivian.
Then she took a photo of her meal because social media was nothing if not the place to show off how fabulous life was—true or not.
Flipping on the television, she foundChristmas in Connecticutand settled in to eat. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was but forced herself not to scarf it down and instead enjoy every bite. Room service in New York City wasn’t on her bucket list but she made a mental note to add it and then cross it off. She wanted to be able to at least mark off one thing.
Her cell phone rang again and she expected it to be Vivian but the name on her screen twisted her insides.Ryan. Vivian was not an I-told-you-so person; her brother—was.
“Before you tell me how stupid I am for coming here and spending all of my money I want you to know that I already know that,” she spit out as soon as she answered the call.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“I wasn’t going to give you one.” Ryan’s voice echoed and Frannie wondered where he was and what time it was there. As an FBI agent, he traveled for his job but usually kept the details between himself and Vivian. “Are you okay?”
Prepared for an argument, Ryan’s affectionate tone nearly caused her tears to come again but crying would only stress him out and that never worked out in her favor.
“I’m sitting in my cozy hotel room”—finally—“enjoying the most delicious breakfast I’ve ever had in my life—courtesy of your amazing wife—and living the dream.”
“Sounds like it.” There was a pause and Frannie readied herself for a fight. “I think you should fly back home. Back to Georgia. You don’t need to be in New York by yourself.”
She didn’t want to be here by herself either, but going home? Even if she came up with a convincing reason why she returned after one day, it wouldn’t be enough to silence the rumors.
“Ryan, I can’t go back home. Everyone will know and they’ll talk and—”
“So what? At least you’ll be safe. Do you know how big New York City is?”
“Eighteen million people. You sent me the statistics, remember?”
“Right,” he said. “You’ve never been in a city that big and it can be dangerous for someone traveling alone. I’d feel better if you went back to Georgia.”
“I don’t want to.” She cringed at how juvenile she sounded. “I can stay here, in my room. Order room service and watch Christmas movies.”
“Do you know how expensive that is?”
No, she didn’t and truthfully, she’d budgeted her trip carefully, choosing two-dollar-sign restaurants she’d found online that had decent reviews. Calvin always covered their meals but she hadn’t wanted him to assume she expected him to pay.
“You made a mistake. No one needs to know that.”
“Everyone will know that. You know how Walton is. You know what people will say, that I’m like Mom and got dumped just like—”
“I’m not a fan of Calvin but he’s nothing like Dad,” Ryan cut in. “The right man isn’t going to run out on you, Frankie. Calvin wasn’t that man and I’d feel a lot better if I didn’t have to worry about my baby sister’s safety while I’m on this mission.”
