Chapter 3
After tossing and turning for an hour, Angela kicked the hotel sheets and light blanket off and sat up. “I hate this!” she hissed. Insomnia was a near constant companion for her.
She climbed out of bed and moved to the window. The city of Paris looked peaceful at this time of the night. She’d stayed at the gala until the dancing started, but watching Lativa’s enemy flirt with a woman whose dress could barely contain her breasts wasn’t something she cared to observe. After only getting three hours of sleep the night before, Angela had hoped that tonight would be more restful.
Alas, insomnia was not going to release her from its vicious grip quite yet.
At least she had a long flight back to Lativa tomorrow. Usually, the sound of the plane’s engine lulled her to sleep quickly.
So she gave up on sleep and decided to get some work done. She could summarize tonight’s speeches for her Uncle Khal and send them off to him. He wouldn’t read them until tomorrow morning, but at least she would get the task out of the way.
A good glass of scotch would help though! She padded barefoot over to the dresser and pulled on a pair of loose jeans. Her Aunt Marianna had grown up in Paris and would hate the style of jeans that Angela preferred. They were loose and rumpled, but extremely comfortable. She pulled on a big, comfy sweatshirt and stuffed her feet into well-worn sneakers. It wasn’t palace wear, but for a hotel at, she glanced at the time on her cell phone, two-fifteen in the morning, this messy ensemble should be fine.
She peeked out of her bedroom and, as usual, didn’t go down the hallway to let her bodyguards know that she was out and about. Angela had her own routines and, tucking her laptop underneath her arm and hooking her reading glasses onto the neckline of her sweatshirt, she moved silently down the hallway to the servant’s access hallway. She’d done this so many times that it was almost a habit by now.
Once on the first floor, she made her way toward the small bar on the other side of the hotel lobby. It was mostly vacant now as the staff cleaned up from the night’s festivities.
An exhausted waiter walked over. “How can I help you?” he asked, his tone warning her that he didn’t want his close-down routines interrupted.
“I don’t need anything,” she smiled warmly at him. “Just a quiet corner where I can work. Is that okay?”
The relieved waiter gestured to the tables that had already been cleaned. “Sit wherever you’d like. We won’t bother you unless you look for us.”
The man disappeared and Angela gratefully sank down into a corner booth where she’d be out of sight. She opened her laptop, then logged into the secure system that allowed her to send messages to her staff and family. After slipping her reading glasses on, Angela pursed her lips, her fingers hovering over the keys. It took her a moment to think back to the night’s speeches, but once she remembered Sheik Tiro’s words, her fingers started flying across the keyboard.
Angela was more than halfway through her summary when she felt something stir the air. Looking up, Angela’s eyes clashed with Tiro’s.