Meet Me In The Pit

Chapter One - If I Tell You I'm Gonna Have To Kill You

Keira

Score: When We First Met - Hellogoodbye

I need to get out of this dress.

That's literally all I can think about, as I sip my Aperol Spritz in the hotel rooftop bar, sweat trickling down my spine.

Why is it so hot? That's unusual for Paris in May.

The rays of the setting sun are burning my face, which is twisted into a painful, permanent smile. I swear to God, if I keep grinning any longer, I'd need medical attention to be able to relax my facial muscles.

I've been in meetings all day, and my entire body is aching. Except for my feet, which have grown completely numb, tired of screaming in pain from being crushed in these ridiculous heels all day.

You might think that it gets easier with time, but after two days of wearing heels for twelve hours straight, the only thing I want to do is shove my feet into the ice maker which I know is plugged in behind the bar.

The meeting was a huge success, though, and now I get to "celebrate" and socialize with the representatives of Brett Events Inc. after I secured an exclusive contract with them. They are one of the most successful events management companies, hosting everything from gallery openings and sports conferences to exclusive weddings and high-society balls.

And now they are going to work with our hotels worldwide for both the venues and accommodation. If their clients don't have any special requirements of their own, of course. Anyways, it is a huge deal that will bring in so much extra business.

But, needless to say, I am exhausted. I've been working on that deal for the past three months, visiting different venues of our chain with representatives from Brett Events, providing them with a full overview of our services, and going through endless revisions of the contract.

Now that it's over I should be excited, I really should be, but instead, all I can think about is the rivulets of sweat, trickling dangerously close to my arse and how I wish to unscrew my shoes off my feet.

The Parisian skyline swallows the last remaining grain of the setting sun and I allow myself to close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. Now I can finally excuse myself and go back to my room. There is a dinner that I should probably attend, but I have loads of work that I still need to do anyway.

Quickly, I go around the rooftop bar, bidding my goodbyes to the Brett Events team, and the minute I exit the bar and enter the hallway I nearly break into a run towards the lifts.

In front of the door to my room, I swipe my key card and the door unlocks with a silent click. I push it open and my shoes are flying across the room before the door has closed behind my back.

The blood flow returns to my feet with a feeling that I can only describe as blissful pain. A loud groan escapes my throat and I slump onto my bed in a mess of limbs, hair, and clothes, trying to get out of my dress next.

I take a quick shower, reminding myself that this hotel has one of the best spas our chain has to offer and that I should definitely enjoy it tomorrow, but now I need to write a couple of emails and finish off some paperwork on my laptop before I can finally go to bed.

I step out of the shower and put on some gym shorts and a tank top, wrapping my wet hair in a towel. I order room service and sit down on my desk by the open window, overseeing the Parisian skyline with a bit of the Eiffel Tower peeking in between the low, historic buildings. Someone might say it's a romantic view, and it's probably true, I guess, but to me, it is just another hotel room for yet another business meeting.