Drifting Deception

Chapter Seventeen

SYDNEY 

The sounds of traffic and sirens disrupted my sleep. At least that's what I was telling myself. I was certainly not waking up early because I couldn't stop thinking about the spontaneous kiss that we had to share to keep up our ridiculous act of dating each other so as to deceive the public—and my ex—into thinking we were happily in love and on the verge of marriage. God, it was even stupider when I said it out loud. I needed to take this to the grave when this was over.

I tossed and turned for a few more moments, before aggressively kicking the duvet off the queen-sized bed.

"Fuck," I screamed into the pillow. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." I was grateful for the hotel muck up, so Henry wouldn't hear me acting like a hormonal teenager. I didn't know why the kiss had messed me up so much. Was I attracted to this man? Yes. Was it anything more than pure sexual attraction? No. Was I just horny after having average sex with Jeremy for a year? Probably.

I should've been kicking and screaming that the hottest man in Formula One had kissed me when he could've found another way to convince Monica. Yet, I couldn't help but feel this weird flush of butterflies and nausea from the nerves.

I leaned over to my bedside table and snatched my phone from its charging port. I was met with sheer disappointment when I saw I had zero notifications. Seriously, Sydney. Were you expecting a good morning text from him now?

I ran my hand through my knotty hair. I laughed. Now I was worried about my appearance.

"Ugh," I said as I flattened my body like a starfish on the bed. "What has my life come to?"

The sudden ding of my phone's notifications made me sit up like an eager fangirl. I reached for the phone, its lock screen immediately unlocking at the sight of my face.

I pulled down the notifications bar and saw there was one new text. From Francesca.

Francesca: Hey! What are you doing today? If you're free at ten, could you please meet me at the café in our hotel? I'll send a chauffeur to pick you up.

I laughed. She had planned it so carefully that there was no way I could find an excuse. I wondered what was going on, and my curiosity wanted to know the answer ASAP.

Me: Haha, okay. Text me when the chauffeur is on the way.

I entered the hotel lobby at exactly five minutes to ten. It was a large complex, with internal balconies showcasing the marble walls and hotel rooms that extended twenty stories high. A giant roof detailed like a crystal whiskey glass illuminated the floors with the golden sun, while a waterfall fell from level ten into a giant indoor pond on the ground floor.

I walked over to an information sign—because yes, I couldn't navigate the café on my own—and searched for instructions. It was on level three, so I walked up the sleek staircase until I was met with a please wait to be seated sign.

"Hello," a small man asked, his English accent sounding royal.

"Hi there," I smiled. "I'm meeting Francesca McKenzie here at ten. I'm not sure if she has a booking?"

The man's expression softened. "Yes. Right this way." He gestured for me to follow him down a long corridor, each booth on either side looking like a fancy train carriage. It was an interesting concept, to say the least.

He stopped in front of a large red door. "The party is in there."

The party? I didn't have time to ask him to clarify because before my eyes, the doors were swinging open, and five sets of eyes were staring back at me. I was grateful all five people were familiar to me, mostly.