Chapter 48

He'd barely disappeared when I felt my gaze narrow. Not so fast, Zane Bennington.

Determined to get some answers, I plunged after him. To my infinite frustration, the crowd followed along beside me, as if eager to see Act Two of this impromptu performance.

Without breaking my stride, I called out over my shoulder, "The show's over, okay? You should probably go back to your rooms."

Of course, no one did.

Like that was a surprise.

When I rounded the corner, I spotted Zane up ahead, striding purposefully down the hall. As I followed after him, I tried not to stare at his naked back and long legs, but it was embarrassingly difficult not to. Confused or not, I had to admit, his silhouette looked annoyingly fine, even as it grew smaller in the distance.

I wanted to yell for him to stop, but I didn't dare. After all, the last thing I needed now was an even bigger crowd.

From somewhere behind me, a female voice asked, "Are you his girlfriend?"

My steps faltered, and I glanced back to see who would ask such a ridiculous question.

It was one of the two teenagers from earlier. I didn't know which one of them had asked, but I did know the answer. "No. Definitely not."

Far from discouraged, they scampered up beside me. "Are you sure?" the first girl asked. "He looked really jealous."

"Yeah," the other one said. "I thought he was gonna kill that guy."

The first girl said, "Ugh, did you see that guy's stomach?"

The other one made a sound of disgust. "It wasn't a stomach. It was a freaking pelt."

Now, my steps did falter, but not because of anything they'd said. Rather, it was because, far ahead of us, Zane had stopped just outside the door to a hotel room.

It was my hotel room.

Now, I stopped moving entirely. I watched as he turned and opened a door. But it wasn't the one to my room. It was the door to the room directly across from mine.

I felt my eyebrows furrow. Well, that was unexpected.

Next to me, the first girl spoke again. "If you're not his girlfriend, what are you?"

Honestly, I had no idea. I was still staring down the hall. Absently, I mumbled, "Just his employee, that's all."

"No, I don't think so," she said.

"Yeah," the other one agreed. "You could totally tell he likes you."

"He doesn't like her," the first corrected. "I think he's loves her. You don't do that unless you're totally in love."

At this, I might've laughed out loud if I weren't so distracted. I heard myself mumble, "He doesn't love anyone."

And if he did, he wouldn't love me. After all, I was a total nobody, and he was a billionaire with the world at his fingertips.

As the girls chattered back and forth, I tried to tune them out as my thoughts continued to churn in my addled brain.

Zane wasn't seriously staying in the room across from me?

Was he?

I was desperate to find out, but not in front of a crowd. Reluctantly, I turned to face them. The crowd wasn't huge, maybe only a dozen people, but it felt like more as they watched me with eager, excited eyes.

From somewhere in the back, a guy announced, "I got the whole thing on video."

I almost flinched. "What whole thing?"

"Everything." His eyes were bright with enthusiasm. "I bet I can sell it for a million bucks."

I reached up to rub my temples. It wouldn't be worth a million, but it would net him some decent cash if he shopped it to the right people. I only prayed he didn't.

The guy standing next to him said, "You can't sell it for a million."

"Oh yeah?" the first guy said. "Why not?"

With a grin, the second guy held up his cell phone. "That only works if you're the only one who's got it."

The first guy gave a shrug. "I didn't mean a million literally. I meant a few thousand, you know?"

The other guy gave a slow nod. "Yeah, maybe we should team up, see what we can make happen. We'll get more if it's exclusive."

Watching this exchange, I had no idea what to say. But I did know that just down the hall was the person who started all of this. And I desperately needed to talk to him.

Alone.

I cleared my throat. "Well, there's nothing to see now, so…" I made a little shooing motion with my hands. "Please, uh, disperse."

Nobody moved.

A tall woman near the front asked, "Hey, why wasn't he wearing a shirt?"

Good question.

Another woman asked, "And who was the guy? The one with the hairy gut?"

I didn't know what to say. Technically, this was part of my job, dealing with questions and what-not. But I had no answers, and I told them so, over and over, until one by one, they wandered away, no doubt because Zane – the star of the show – was long gone.

Soon, it was just me, standing alone in the long corridor. Like someone in a trance, I walked down the long hallway and didn't stop until I reached the hotel room door.

Not my door.

His door.

And then, I knocked.