Jasmine finalized her daily tour of the hotel with her assistant parting ways and entering the lobby. People bustled about, walking into the elaborate entrance and waiting around lounging in chairs or standing around with their luggage and backpacks.

Early morning light crept through the windows and doors, lighting the entire grand lobby and making the chandeliers sparkle beautifully. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet tinge of flowers floated by her nostrils.

It didn't take long for her to feel a presence behind her as if she was being watched–or followed. She barely resisted the urge to turn her head around and scan the area for anyone suspicious. Finding herself starting to turn, she snapped her head forward. For some reason she knew it was a masculine presence.

Either she was paranoid or she definitely felt someone's eyes on her. Discreetly she checked her surroundings. She saw no one taking particular notice of her. Tightening her hands around her clip board pressed firmly against her chest she approached the reception counter and stepped behind it and in front of a computer screen.

Several of the employees greeted her warmly as they stood at their stations accommodating guests for check-in.

Discreetly, she searched faces, as she continued pretending to type on the keyboard. If anything, that feeling of being watched was no worse, closer, and more intense mounting her frustration to a point of a boiling thermometer.

"Jasmine!"

Jasmine straightened her back, her entire body on alert. For a moment her ears peaked. It was as if someone was calling her name. It was more like a strangled whisper.

Darting her eyes left and right, she noticed no one paid her any attention. Shaking her head and blaming her paranoia on her over active imagination she decided to send a quick email to the employees warning of the influx of guests that were expected that weekend.

"Jasmine!"

This time the voice was closer. She stopped typing and looked up practically jumping back as she came face to face with Sammy who popped out of nowhere with a stricken look on his face. With a hand on her pounding heart, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. It took her moment to process the shock and surprise.

"You scared the hell out of me Sammy! What's wrong with you!"

"Can I hide in here?" He asks in a rush.

Not waiting for a reply, Sammy hurries behind the reception desk and ducks like a little child and hides, crouching on his legs. He was dressed in his Samuel clothes–pink Polo shirt and dark slacks with a sweater draped over his shoulders and knotted over his chest.

Jasmine suppressed a smile when she spotted his old man loafers.

It's been four days since Sammy transformed into Samuel and he was playing his part in stride. His days were spent at the gym working on his muscles and his nights drinking martinis and listening to Madonna behind the closed doors of the penthouse.

They made a point to go out in public the last few days, grabbing lunch or taking walks around the city. They visited the Queens castle just two days prior and the London Tower where Sammy was caught taking pictures of the Royal jewels by the queens royals guards. Jasmine warned him it wasn't permitted and were warned no phones or cameras were allowed. But No, Sammy went on and took pictures with his phone like the little sneak he was. He snapped about a dozen before he was caught. He looked like a child caught stealing cookies from the Queen's stash and apologized profusely.

"In my defense, I wasn't told!" He kept insisting, hoping they would believe him. The Royal guards would not let him continue the tour until he erased all the pictures in his album in front of them.

Of course, Sammy obeyed, but as soon as they completed the tour the biggest, most mischievous of smiles broke over his face. Once they stepped out of the building, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and retrieved the pictures out of the deleted album of his smartphone saying, "Never, ever tell a diva what to do."

Jasmine could only shake her head at his eccentric behavior. She sometimes wondered how Sammy eluded jail all his life. He was a walking troublemaker waiting to happen.

Coming back to the present, Jasmine questioningly glanced down at him. "What's got you so riled up that you have to hide?" She asked him.

"Don't look at me!" He insisted in a whisper. "Or that cougar will find me!"

Jasmine pretended to understand him and played along, returning her attention to the computer screen while taking discreet glances of her surroundings. Perhaps it was Sammy who she felt watching her. But try as she may, she couldn't shake the feeling of doubt the energy she sensed was sinister.

"Care to elaborate?" She mutters.

"I was attacked by a cougar! A she-devil of a woman in her fifties. She's been hounding me for days, following me at the gym while I worked out. Sometimes I'd find her watching me like her next meal while I did laps at the pool!"

"Wait, a woman–"

"Yes! Her name is Vivian Davis! The bitch practically purred her name into my ear, pressing her double-D tits against my chest in the elevator! That hussy cornered me in there and attacked me!" Sammy had the audacity to shiver. "She pinched my butt and stuck her tongue in my ear!" He shivers again. "Then she hooked her beefy leg around my thigh and tried kissing me on the lips!"

"You're not serious." Jasmine suppressed her laughter behind a closed fist over her mouth.

"Don't you dare laugh at me!"

"I'm laughing at the graphic image you conjured in my head–not of you specifically! You said her name is Vivian Davis?" She quickly typed a few keys and searched the hotel database. "Ahhh, look, I've found her. Vivian Davis. Age: Fifty-six, single guest. Checked in precisely a week ago and staying in one of our prestigious suites." Jasmine drilled her fingers against the granite counter. "Unfortunately for you, she will be with us for another week. Pucker up, Samuel. Looks like you have an obsessed admirer!"

"Ugggggh! Can't she tell I prefer the D not the V? I even used my lisp on her! How clueless can someone be? I mean if that ain't a hint I'm gay, I don't know what is."

Jasmine giggled. "Did you notice the initials of her name are V and D? Your reference to the V as in vagina and D–."

Sammy waved off her observation and continued ranting in a whisper. "At first she and I made small talk, and I thought hey, this is harmless and there's nothing wrong with making friends. But the hoe kept appearing at the same time and the same places I would. The bitch was following me!"

"Maybe she's attracted to you and the flirting gave her the wrong impression. You know Sammy, your fake British accent is quite charming especially since you've gotten better at it. Not to mention your masculine clothes. You look like a fine straight man." Jasmine reasoned. "I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if girls lined up for your attention. You're very handsome."

"The only Vivian I'd like to acquaint myself with is fashion designer, Vivienne Westwood! Besides, I don't have time to waste with this bullshit! I know I look like a delicious snack, if I don't say so myself. But girls, I ain't in that chapter! Y'all can look but you can't touch or I'm gonna be startin' some drama!"

"God forbid you start any sort of drama." Jasmine replied sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "You breath drama. Hell, you should have the word drama made into your middle name, Earvin."

Sammy's eyes nearly bugged out of his face. "Wait. What did you say?"

"I accidentally peeked at your passport one day while I was searching for my phone. Interesting middle name, Samuel Earvin Princeton."

He looked like he was about ready to jump her.

"What? Nobody told you to leave your belongings here and there." She reprimanded softly.

"Look, don't even start with me today! I ain't in no mood! I have an old hag after my goodies while you calmly poke fun at my grandpapa's name!"

"Excuse me." Says a deep, feminine, seductive, and very British voice.

Sammy looked like he was ready to have an heart attack on the spot as his head tilts upwards toward the voice. He mouthes the words HELP ME.

Jasmine stiffens and braces herself before turning to face the new presence before the counter. Her eyes met long acrylic, red hot nails that looked like claws sprawled over the granite counter. Next, her eyes roam upwards to meet a robust, voluptuous pair of breasts. Jasmine blinked a couple of times and blushed in embarrassment to be caught staring a woman's open cleavage. But she couldn't help it, they were so large, they looked like a pair of bowling balls stuffed into a small tight blouse.

Jasmine's mouth parted as she took in the woman's fierce, black-lined eyes and plump, lipstick-coated lips. Her hair was thick, long and blonde. Covering her mouth with a fist, Jasmine delicately clears her throat, clasping both hands behind her back and gives the woman a fake smile.

"Yes, Ma'am how may I be of service today?" Jasmine asks politely.

Those blue eyes pinned Jasmine to the spot as the full force of the woman's commanding aura radiating a raw sexuality and poise. A quick observation showed her this woman was someone who gets what she wants, when she wants and No was not an option.

Sammy suddenly grips her ankle to the point of pain and she did everything in her power to keep her gaze focused on the woman when all she wanted to do was kick Sammy in the face.

Vivian Davis looks right and then left, returning her attention to Jasmine. "I'm looking for a fine, dark-skinned male. He's about 175 centimeters, elegant clothes, with a stubbled beard almost like a 5 o'clock shadow. And did I mention attractive? His name is Samuel. I'm afraid I never caught his last name. I saw him slip through the lobby just moments ago and I haven't been able to locate him." The woman gave her a knowing look. "He and I have. . . Unfinished business, if you take my meaning." Finishing her sentence with a wink.

Sammy quietly groaned as if he were in pain and the pressure on her ankle increased. Jasmine gulped heavily and took a deep calming breath acting professional and poised as she could. "The lobby is quite full Ma'am, I've been here merely a few minutes to notice anyone with the description you've provided. Perhaps, the gentleman left the hotel or checked-out. . . ?"

The grip on her ankle decreased but was still firm.

Vivian Davis impatiently drummed her sharp fingernails. Jasmine narrowed her eyes at her nails. The woman could easily claw a persons face with how lethal they looked.

"Well, can you not search your guest list? I'm sure there isn't that many Samuel's in this hotel."

Jasmine flinched as Sammy's nails painfully dug into her skin. Vivian caught the movement and raised an eyebrow. "Is something amiss?" She asks.

"I'm afraid I cannot share guest information with you, for privacy reasons, of course. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Can I assist you with anything else today?" Jasmine gave her a forced, beaming simile. She was smiling past the pain in her ankle. "We do hope you're enjoying your stay with us here at the St. James Hotel."

Vivian Davis blew out a frustrated sigh and pinched her lips tersely, searching around her one last time before giving up. She shrugged an elegant shoulder as she tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her blood red nails.

"I'm here visiting my daughter for another week. If I could be notified of anyone who fits the description I've given, I would greatly appreciate it. I've never had a man make my blood run hot like that in ages." She confessed. "My name is Vivian Davis." She then provided.

The woman arched an eyebrow at Jasmine, waiting for her to write her information down. Jasmine made a show of typing on the keyboard. "Yes, I have your information right here, Ms. Davis. I'll notify the staff of your request. Will that be all? Can we do anything else to accommodate you today?"

"What was your name, young lady? You're an American." Vivian noted, scrutinizing her with her sharp eyes.

Jasmine outstretched her arm. "Jasmine St. James, at your service."

Sammy's fingernails were digging into her skin now and she could feel his panic radiating in waves beating against her.

"St. James?" Surprise flickered into Vivian's eyes and than approval bloomed within their depths. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance." She reaches over to shake her hand. "I take it you own the hotel."

Jasmine nodded. "My father–Julien St. James owns the hotel." She amended. "I'm merely here helping run the family business."

"Charming." Vivian commented. "Please see that every staff member is aware I'm looking for that young man. I'll be waiting to hear from you very soon."

"We'll do our best." Jasmine promised. "Have a wonderful rest of your day."

"Thank you."

Vivian Davis turned slowly swaying her voluptuous hips in a tight black pencil skirt. The material stuck to her body like second skin as Jasmine watched her all the way back to the end of the hall leading back to elevators in a provocative strut. She was finally able to breath normally when she disappears out of site.

"Damn you Sammy, I don't think I've lied so much in such a short amount of time."

"Get over it!" He nearly spat and coming to a stand. "What the heck was that shit about anyway? 'We'll do our best'." He repeats in a girly voice. "You didn't bat an eyelash lying to Gaston's face and pretending to be engaged to me!"

Jasmine was appalled. "You put me on the spot that night! What the hell else was I supposed to do?" She shook her head in admonishment at his lack of understanding. "As I see it now, I helped you! I needed her to back off. It was the only way to get rid of her. The last thing you want is for her to see you. If I hadn't offered she would have stuck around. Is that what you want?"

"I need to get out of here. And I need a plan to stay out of sight."

Jasmine checked her watch. "Zayn is coming to town and he and I are meeting for a late lunch at Kaspar's at the Savoy hotel. I meant to ask you earlier–would you like to join us? I'm sure you need the distraction and it'll help you stay out of sight for a couple of hours."

"I'll go to hell and meet the devil himself if it means getting out of here and away from her." He says in a sharp lisp. "It's people like her is the reason tasers were invented."

A rush of goosebumps erupts all over her skin and a tingling on her neck warned her she was still being watched. She never paid much attention while she was speaking to Vivian, but she could sense whoever it was watching her the entire time during her conversation. Never looking back she hooked her arm into Sammy's arm like they were an item and ignored it. She'd dealt with enough drama for one day.

But the only thing she couldn't shake off was the uneasy discomfort of that stare.

"Come with me, I'll show you the way to the private service elevators the staff uses and which you will be able take advantage of to avoid Vivian. We can freshen up, change and be on our way."

****

An hour later Jasmine and Sammy enter the Savoy hotel.

"Why are you giving Savoy your business?" Sammy asks as they were shown to their reserved table.

"Nothing wrong with checking out the competition." Jasmine mutters beneath her breath.

"Hey I meant to ask you: are you going to mention Cristiano claiming his ex-fück buddy is pregnant with his kid?"

"No. I never mentioned anything to Zayn when I learned about Cristiano's claim nor will I ever tell him. For all I know his sister is lying to shackle him into marrying her. Besides knowing my brother, it's going to get ugly if he's falsely accused of something he never did. Zayn will not stop at getting his own revenge. It's like flapping a red cape in front of two raging bulls trying to kill each other. The less he knows the better."

"Didn't you ever wonder why Russo never tried reaching Zayn first?"

"It's crossed my mind. But remember his initial plan of trying to get me in his bed and extract his revenge by knocking me up? Too bad for him I wasn't as stupid as his sister and spread my legs at the first smile a man sends me." She says bitterly. "However, it doesn't look like its deterring him. He just keeps coming at me."

Sammy shakes his head. "If only life were like a hooker."

Jasmine glanced at him oddly. "What about a hooker?" She asked quietly, making sure she wasn't heard.

"Hookers aren't paid for sex, they're paid to leave." He explained. "If only this little problem was easy enough where you could pay them off and get rid of them."

"If only." She agrees.

They stop at the hostess's podium, and were immediately greeted by a dark haired woman dressed in a dark suit. "Good day And welcome to Kaspar's. Do you have a reservation with us today? "

"Yes, party of three. The name is under James." Jasmine answered.

The lady checks the monitor and taps the screen, looking up. "Your table is ready Miss, please follow me."

They follow her and it was as if they were transported to the Jazz age back in the twenties and thirties designed dinning room. Walking over a firm velvet blue textured carpet beneath their shoes, the interior frame's a central bar flanked by glass-mirrored columns offering a sense of elegance while pendant glass lights gave one a sense of a theatrical style.

High back and padded seat cushions are wrapped in luxurious Aqua blue velvet fabric, offering a perfect complement to espresso finish wood tables. The room was set in opulent elegance with a luxurious modern day retro London diner.

Sammy lets out a low whistle of appreciation eyeing the ceiling above their heads which was made of silver with an artistic leaf design. "Fancy place. Been here before?"

"To be honest no. Haven't had a chance to check out this neck of the woods before. I love the vibe they have going on. Makes me jealous." She joked with a smile. "Besides, the project Zayn's overlooking is top secret. Nobody knows he's has been working on it but my family and I. Most of the staff believe he's away on an extended business trip out of town. So meeting him keeps him away from curious eyes. You know how easily he attracts attention." She shrugged.

"Damnation woman." Sammy says using a popular English curse word for Damn. "Isn't he the finest specimen in this fine establishment." He whispers into her ear, gripping her upper arm, drawing her attention and nodding straight ahead.