Everything that goes on at the Bliss Resort is my responsibility, but even I can’t be held accountable for the way she looks at me. It’s like those big green eyes see right through my clothes. Every time she cocks her head to the side and pauses for a moment before she speaks, I’m convinced she’s going to have cooked up another excuse to get me back in the pool. Maybe this time without the swim trunks? She never says it, but if she did, it would be with that professional attitude, a little wrinkle of her brow as if the answer to the question is the only thing standing between abject failure and incredible success.

I’m done waiting.

I’ve been done waiting.

And I’m sure as hell not going to take this too far, because I’m beginning to get the sense that Jenny London knows exactly who she is. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

She knocks on the door of the Emperor Suite right on time, and when I open the door she lets out a huge sigh of relief. The color in her cheeks is so endearing I can’t stand it. Genevieve Starlight would never have come close to being this endearing.

“I was worried this was the wrong room.” She puts her hands on her hips and takes in another breath like she’s just crossed the finish line of a marathon. The gesture is almost...practiced. “I thought there was no way you wanted me up here, but—” Then she straightens up and looks past me, into the room. “Whoa.”

I had it set up the way we do for honeymooners. It’s one of the most expensive upgrades guests can buy at Bliss, and largely because it involves candles. Someone has to staff the room from the moment they’re lit, and we have a carefully planned check-in later in the evening to make sure they’re extinguished for the night before the guests are. I move out of the way so she can enter the room. “I hope you brought your camera with you. I wouldn’t want the candles to burn down before you can get some good shots.”

Jenny takes a tentative step inside the room, then another. “The Emperor Suite?”

“There’s a matching suite in the other wing. It’s rare for the couples to come into contact with one another.”

“Is that a real thing?” Jenny pulls the office camera from her purse and twists at the lens cap. She flicks her eyes across at me. “Couples not wanting to...come in contact?”

“Everyone wants to be the only ones experiencing royalty on their wedding night. We do our best to coordinate arrivals.”