MELISSA
MY choice of dress was easy. i only have one that’s anything like
suitable.
My sparkly heels clack loudly on the marble floor of Delaney’s Spa Resort. I’m early, a good hour ahead of schedule.
I paste on my brightest smile as I head up to the reception desk, and I must look ok, because the woman behind the counter smiles right back.
“Amy Randall,” I tell her. “Room 216.”
She taps on her keyboard, then scans a keycard. “Welcome, Miss Randall. Your room is on the second floor. Do you need a porter for your bags?”
I don’t have any bags. I feel myself burning up.
“No, no need,” I bluster. “They’re not arriving until later.” She hands my card over. “Enjoy your stay.”
I can’t hide my shaking fingers as I take it from her.
My room is incredible, huge and cream and modern. The li
