Monte Carlo. Where people speak in a language I barely understand. Some of them speak to me in french and I had to bite my tongue to control my laugh. "I don't speak french, I'm sorry." That's what I said almost all day.
I tried to stick with my usual schedule, after endless conversations with our partners; I had to run. Running feels good. It makes me come to life, or whatever. I just love running. I was about to go back to my hotel when a stupid person bumped in to me and I fell on my knees. I actually scraped my knee. What are the chances?
"I'm so sorry." The guy said, holding my knee.
"Er, it's okay. It's just a scratch." He speaks english, looks and smells good. What are the chances?
"Oh, you're not from here too." He said
"Yeah, I guess." I feel a little awkward and a lot of clumsy.
"I'm really sorry about your knee, let's get you inside the hotel for first aid."
"It isn't like I broke my leg or something. It's fine, really."
"But, I just thought -"
"No, I'm okay. Thanks. I just - I have to go." I cut him off.
I walked back to my hotel and didn't mind looking back at him. As I get to my hotel room, I rinsed the scratch on my left knee. I kept on thinking, how can a guy be so gentle, masculine, sweaty, looking and smelling so good all at the same time? I bet Monte Carlo has this type of guy all over the place. Or not.
YOU ARE READING
The Hypocrite
Mystery / ThrillerCareer oriented, firm and unmovable Scarlet will discover what happened to the dreaded things she managed to escape for a long time. Scarlet is having the time of her life. A control freak, 'get-a-hold-of-yourself kind of girl that has everything...
