Chapter 1: The request
She stepped out of the dark, rain-soaked late afternoon and into what felt like an oasis. Adjusting her glasses on her nose, she brushed a few strands of damp golden-brown hair away from her face and walked toward the reception desk.
“How can I help you today, miss?” the receptionist asked.
Foxy hesitated. She had come here to relax. That had been the plan.
Unfortunately, her mind had apparently come up with another one.
“I’d like a private room, please.”
“Of course.” The receptionist slid a key across the counter. “Third door down the hall, on your left.”
Foxy reached for it. She could still leave it there.
Instead, her fingers closed around the key.
“I have a… slightly crazy request.”
The receptionist looked up.
Foxy lowered her voice. “If a man comes in who’s willing… could you send him to my room? Maybe one or two. No more than that.”
There. She’d actually said it.
The receptionist’s expression barely changed, except for a knowing little smile.
“Consider it done, miss. Have a lovely evening.”
Foxy walked away before she could change her mind.
Her footsteps echoed across the marble corridor, somehow louder than they had any right to be.
Maybe I should go back. Tell her I was joking.
She kept walking.
No. Nobody’s probably going to show up anyway. Just enjoy the evening.
When she opened the door to her room, she stopped.
Dark stone. Warm wood. Low amber lights.
A large relaxation bed stood near the center of the room, surrounded by candles and soft pools of light. Beyond it, glass separated the resting area from a rainfall shower and a small sauna.
It was beautiful. Quiet. Private.
Exactly what she had wanted when she started searching for somewhere to disappear for a few hours.
Relax. Get away from everyone. Stop thinking.
The last part had apparently gone very wrong.
Foxy sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the door.
“Relax, damn it.”
After a moment, she stood and made her way toward the pool.
The water was warm enough to loosen the tension in her shoulders almost instantly. She let herself drift onto her back, staring up at the soft amber lights while the distant sound of rain tapped against the windows.
For the first time since making the request downstairs, her breathing started to slow.
Maybe this was all she needed.
Warm water. Quiet. No expectations.
She floated there for nearly fifteen minutes, letting the room work on her until the nerves finally started to fade.
When she climbed out, she wrapped herself in a towel, turned on some soft music, and crossed back toward the relaxation bed.
She lay down on her stomach, resting her head on her folded arms.
The music hummed quietly through the room.
Her eyes grew heavier.
And little by little, Foxy started to drift off.
She never heard the soft click of the door opening behind her.
