Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 26

The door to the rental car slams closed and it locks. The rain is heavy, the clouds even darker than before. I take off at a run, crossing the parking lot with long strides. The rain hasn't stopped since I left six hours ago. Hard and relentless, cutting power all around the city. The cold rain soaks through my suit as thunder echoes above me and lightning shoots through the sky.

Isadora is scared of thunderstorms.

I need to get to her.

My dress shoes are not good for running as I splash through the puddles left by the relentless rain. The fucking employees got some of the wrong materials sent in so I had to go in and fix it. But I left Isadora. She's been alone for over six hours. I didn't want to leave her but I didn't have a choice. If I had the choice, I would've stayed with her all day with her head in my lap as she slept soundly. She hasn't been sleeping good the whole trip and then she falls asleep on me? I'd stay like that for days.

It started thundering and lightning around two hours ago. Seeing that light up the sky made me want to call Isadora and make sure she's okay. But I couldn't. The power went out where I was and the service was cut.

Fuck. She could be crying.

I shove through the doors of the hotel and warmth crashes into me as I sprint through the lobby. Some people gasp in surprise.

"Sir? Sir!" One of the employees yells as I run past the front desk. "Not now!" I yell breathlessly, sprinting through the lobby. People turn to look at me with confusion. It's easy to tell. It's not everyday you see the owner of the hotel sprinting through the lobby soaked to the bone from rain.

Isadora. I need to get to her.

Bracing myself, I slide to a stop, almost crashing into the elevators. My lungs heave with heavy breaths, panting as my palm slams into the button at least twenty times. The button lights but as I stand there, panting and soaked, it doesn't come. The numbers tick down in my head from twenty and when they reach ten, my patience snaps.

"Fuck it." I mutter to myself and lunge for the stairs. Climbing the stairs in groups of three steps, spinning around the corners. Nothing but getting to Isadora. I need to get to her.

I need to see that she's okay.

   My lungs are heavy, my muscles sore at the amount of stairs I'm climbing quickly. Running up eight flights of stairs isn't something I normally do in my workouts.

My heart is racing as my body knocks into the door that leads to the hallway that our room is on. The carpet beneath me is getting soaked with my rainy clothes and wet leather shoes.

For running as fast as I can, my footsteps aren't that heavy. I don't want to disturb anyone. Most people are probably stay in because of the weather. And getting a complain is the last thing I want right now. The doors pass by in a blur, my heart thumping loudly, my blood hot. The sound of some TV's slide through the crack beneath the door but most rooms are silent. Sprinting through a hotel hallway is not something I do.

Somehow my eyes manage to catch the number of our hotel room. Room 802. I grab the framing of the door and shove my hand into my suit jacket and grip the key card tightly in my hand. I'm soaked but warm from the adrenaline rushing through my blood. I swipe the keycard across the pad and the door clicks, the small red dot turning green. My fingers wrap around the cold metal handle on the door and I throw the door open, rushing inside. The TV is still on, different pictures playing across the screen. It's on sleep mode. The second I set my foot inside the room, worry starts to set in.

The door closes behind me and my eyes trail the room. The bed is a mess, the blankets thrown around. The TV is still on. Where's Isadora? Panic sets in and I rush over to the bathroom and throw the door open. It's dark, the lights off with my shirt she normally wears on the floor. No. No, no, no, no.