That green must be the hotel’s signature color because it’s everywhere – ties, accents, even the embroidered crest over his chest.
But that’s not what catches my attention.
It’s him.
Dark skin that looks smooth as polished obsidian under the chandelier light. A buzz cut of jet-black hair. Clean-shaven jaw that could probably cut glass.
And his eyes —
Jesus.
Periwinkle blue.
Bright and clear and completely unfair on a man that already looks like he stepped out of some luxury cologne advertisement.
Even through the uniform I can tell he’s built like a damn athlete.
I realize I’ve been staring when he clears his throat.
“Good evening, sir.”
His voice is so deep.
“Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”
For a second I just blink at him.
My brain is still somewhere betweenholy shit he’s hot, and I want him to fuck me so bad and what did he just ask me.
He raises an eyebrow slightly.
“Sir?”
That snaps me out of it.
“Oh – uh. No.”
The answer slips out automatically.
Then something clicks in my head.
Right.
The invitation.
One of the instructions printed on the back of the card flashes through my mind.
Upon arrival, inform staff you’re attending the event.
I straighten slightly.
“I’m actually here for…”
I pause trying to remember the exact wording.
Then it comes back to me.
“The Velvet Eclipse party.”