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It was nearly midnight. Reception was a mess. And she was laughing, which felt like a good sign.
“Look,” I said. “I’m not going to make you get dressed and go downstairs to fight about this. I’ll ring them in a bit. In the meantime, I’m happy to take the chair, or the floor, or the bath. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
She studied me for a long moment, still dripping on the carpet. “You’re offering to share.”
“I’m offering not to be a nuisance.”
“I’m Priya,” she said finally. “Twenty-seven. Here for a weekend away with my friend Rosie, who is next door in 716 and will absolutely kill you if you turn out to be a creep.” She nodded at the connecting door between the rooms. “That’s not locked, by the way. Just so you know.”
“Liam. Thirty-eight. Network engineer. Extremely boring.”
“Boring I can work with.” She tucked the towel tighter and padded over to the minibar, bending to open it in a way that made the towel ride up the backs of her thighs. I looked at the curtains with enormous concentration.
“I was going to have one of these anyway,” she said, holding up two tiny bottles of whisky. “Seems rude to drink alone when there’s a strange man in my room.”
Then she glanced at me, rumpled and sweaty in my conference shirt. “Or you could use the shower first. You look like you’ve been on a train all day.”