Stealing the Groom

Six

XI: Jet Lag

YOU CAN do this, I thought to myself as I walked down the packed airport. People around me were busy and excited. I even saw a cute couple embrace right there in the middle of the airport. 

I, on the other hand, had no one waiting with their arms wide open. I had insisted that Simone--nor my mother--not greet me at the airport for many reason. 

One of them being jet-lag. When I see that family of little Satan off-springs again, they will see me as I am: a successful, beautiful, sovereign woman. 

Stick it to the man, and all that, right?

Another reason was fatigue. After a long ass flight, all I needed was some decent food and sleep. So excuse me, World, if I don't have the patience needed to take those Mercer women's constant chatter. 

And plus, it was the middle of the night. I really doubt those two want to ridicule me so badly that they'd sacrifice their beauty sleep. 

With a slight frown on my face, I climbed into a cab and read off the address of the hotel I was staying at. He gave a grunt and began to drive. 

Bad day, buddy? Yeah, probably not as bad as mine. I was coming home after five years. The universe better cut me some freaking slack and not have any traffic. It was two in the morning after all. 

"Thanks," I murmured to the grumpy cab driver as he handed me my luggage about an hour-long drive later. Not bothering to wait for a reply, I spun around and walked past the double doors and marble lobby.

"Hello, ma'am. Welcome to our fabulous--" The man sitting behind the front desk began before I cut him off.

"I. Am. Tired." I said through clenched teeth. The man's eyes widened as his jaw practically dropped to the desk top in front of him. "I just came from  Florence, Italy. I just want to sleep."

He frantically nodded and opened his mouth to most likely apologize but I wasn't having that. I know I was being a bitch, but that's what happens when I'm stressed, hungry, and tired. Sue me. "Reservation under Chevalier."

"Miss Elle Chevalier, here we are. Room 214. I'll just call a bellhop to come help you with--or not," he said when I snatched the card from his fingers and turned to briskly walk away. 

"Thanks," I said over my shoulder in the most civil voice I could muster at the moment before stepping into the elevator. 

As soon the elevator doors slid open on the fifteenth floor, my eyes zeroed in on the sign on the wall that read 'Vending'. With a sigh of relief, I found the vending machines and practically cried of joy when I finally held in my hands a packet of Oreos.

"Wow. I've never seen a girl so excited about cookies before," a deep voice said from behind me. With a squeal, I spun around and came face-to-face with a fairly handsome man. 

He looked to be in his late twenties and wore plaid pajama pants and some university t-shirt. I raised an eyebrow at his comment but didn't speak because I was currently chewing a black cookie. Every girl knows not to ever eat Oreos in the presence of a man. But since I was caught red-handed, I was just not going to speak.

"Are you deaf or something?" he asked with a mocking smile. I almost scoffed at his assumption but that would mean having to open my mouth. 

Deciding that this jerk of a man needed to be taught a lesson, I began to make crazy hand movements. 

His smile slipped right off his face as his eyes widened. "Oh shit. You are deaf."

I very nearly laughed then but instead I contorted my face into a mask of confusion. He looked hilarious, just standing there unsure of what to say.