Revenge – served cold - стр. 37

I had to get up early tomorrow, at eight in the morning, so that I could be ready for the conference by nine. It was the first hour of the morning and I still planned to get some sleep.

Taking advantage of the fact that Camille was busy with her theater production, I quickly opened the door to my room, planning to hide inside. And let her knock until the porter came! Turns out that's exactly what she was expecting. Pushing me away, the blonde was the first to break in with a shout of, "Aha!"

After scanning the entire room with her frantic gaze, she didn't calm down. The room was small, and most of it was occupied by a double bed, two nightstands on its sides, a built-in closet with glass doors on the opposite wall, where the blonde immediately stuck her nose. Not finding what she was looking for, she moved to the only neighboring room – a shower room with a toilet. I don't know what she was looking for, but she obviously couldn't find anything.

" Why do you need such a big bed? " Camille asked suspiciously.

I shrugged, seriously considering calling the receptionist to escort her out by force.

The blonde suddenly collapsed to the floor and looked under the bed. I dropped my bag in surprise.

" I'll catch you anyway," she hissed threateningly and stormed out of the room.

I hurried to lock the door. What if she decided to come back?! Psychos are unpredictable creatures! Sitting down on the bed, I decided to wait a bit to make sure she was gone for good and, if anything, to actually call hotel security for help. I would have to warn Andrew about her appearance tomorrow.

The biggest injustice in the world is when you almost have a day off and can sleep, but your body somehow wakes up at five in the morning. You can't sleep at all, and yet you can't go back to sleep.

For the first minute I stared at the perfectly white and flat ceiling and couldn't remember where I was. Then I tried to fall asleep for half an hour, but the kingdom of Morpheus waved me goodbye and slammed the door in my face in the most despicable way.

The booklet of the hotel, which I had studied yesterday, said that breakfast was served only at half past eight in the morning. So it was useless to walk through the corridors in search of coffee. But I had time to thoroughly study the conference program, as well as a small black planner the size of a palm, which was in an envelope with the documents given to me by Andrew at the airport.

What can I say, his schedule was no easier than usual. Let's start at least with a joint breakfast with a certain Sokolov at eight-thirty in the morning. So I'd have to remind him of that at 8:00 sharp. At least I wouldn't have to walk far, our rooms are on the same floor.