72 Hours

Chapter 6 - The Tourist

Dalia had been awake until 2 in the morning going through every single detail of her plan. She was used to staying up late. Her university days had prepared her for late nights and early mornings and that rhythm of life had left her with a severe case of insomnia and a Red Bull dependency.

At exactly 6:00 am her alarm woke her up. She called the reception and asked for room service. The staff had been informed of her preferences. Fruit, coffee, toast, peach jelly and her energy drink. She didn't know what her companion liked, so she ordered a bit of everything.

After her shower, she put on a pair of denim jeans, a long sleeved shirt that was made of a silky material and a pair of comfortable shoes. She let her hair air dry before coming out of her room and going out to the terrace, where the breakfast was ready.

Christopher was on his phone, a cup of coffee on his free hand. He was pacing, immersed on a work conversation. The man had ditched his usual formal attire for jeans and a shirt. He was shoeless. Dalia smiled at him before taking a seat on the table and pouring herself a cup of the black liquid and taking the newspaper and scanning it.

On the front page was a picture of her with the president and his wife. The footnote of the picture talked about the negotiations between her country and France regarding economy and policies around refugees. She had been taught better than to pay attention to the entertainment section, especially regarding her, but still, against her better judgment, she went straight for it.

The picture they had chosen about her and Christopher had been one from the airport. The man was walking behind her with a preoccupied expression. The comments said that they looked like they barely talked to each other, that she was looking tired and skinny, which made them wonder if they relationship was taking a toll on her.

"You shouldn't be reading that stuff" she jumped a little after hearing the deep voice behind her, closing the paper quickly, as if she'd been caught reading someone else's diary. "And you're not that skinny, you're on shape" he added while taking a seat in front of her.

"They are not wrong, though. You do look worried and we look like we don't know each other" She put the paper down and grabbed an empty plate, filling it with pineapple, bananas and grapes. He raised an eyebrow at her and she started laughing, before throwing a grape in his direction. He laughed as well and took a plate, filling it with eggs and bread and pushed it in her direction.

"Now that I see it, you do look like you could use some protein" he stopped for a second, another grape flying in his direction "and a change of attitude" he added, causing Dalia to stick her tongue out in a childish manner. He hadn't seen that part of her. He did like her, she was nothing like he thought she'd be, she was funny and intelligent, but he also knew she wouldn't change her mind.

After they finished their breakfast, both of them went back to their respective rooms. After fifteen minutes, Dalia was downstairs waiting on Christopher when her phone started ringing. Her mother had called last night, but she was not in a mood of talking to her, so she had texted she was tired.

"Mother dear. Missing me already?" Dalia knew the sarcastic tone would bother her mother, which would prompt her to end the call earlier. The princess loved her mother dearly, but she hated the way she controlled everything about her life. The question had a double intention. She had planned to call her mother the day after, kind of to say goodbye one last time.

"Quit that attitude, Dalia" her mother warned "But yes, I do miss you" that comment made Dalia's stomach turn. Her mother had never been the sentimental type, if anything, she had been cold to her, at least since her father had died. "I was just calling to see how you two are doing, if you're having fun"