"Check out my new ride." Sammy announces with pride with a smile that stretched from ear to ear while petting the hood of what looked like a Ferrari. In his other hand there was his signature drink dangling from his fingers. To Jasmine's irritation, Reginald stood a few paces behind him with his customary top hat and a silver tray displayed over a white gloved hand as his other arm waited patiently behind his back.

Jasmine could have sworn his lip thinned a little as displeasure emitted from Reginald's expression. Spotting her, he gives her a respectful nod before his gaze sliced toward Sammy again. Not a second later his features were schooled to one of compliance.

Just minutes ago her assistant delivered the urgent message from Sammy requiring she meet him at the front of the hotel. Her mind jumped to the worst conclusions and she quickly left her desk. She hugged her middle and thanked God there was no disaster as she originally thought. In his Samuel clothes–dark slacks and blue polo shirt, Jasmine stopped before the expensive car.

She took a deep patient breath and descended the last step in front of the St. James hotel entrance still in her business attire–a white pencil skirt and soft pink silk blouse. Taking a cautious glance around her, no thanks to her paranoia, she thanked God she didn't feel the pressure of eyes burning into her back.

"Reginald." She greeted.

"Ma'am." He replies, giving a single efficient nod, standing as erect as a statue.

With a raised eyebrow she appraised the beautiful vehicle. It was difficult not to want to touch the sleek surface as the sun reflected off the waxed paint. The color of nail polish red, the Ferrari was a beauty and her curiosity peaked as to how Sammy acquired such a car.

"What's this?" She asks walking around the vehicle and absorbing it's powerful frame.

"A car." He answered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're acting like you've never seen a Ferrari in your life."

Jasmine stopped in her tracks and the side of her lips lifted. "Oh I've seen a Ferrari all right, I've even been in one. . . Many times."

Both of Sammy's perfectly arched eyebrows raised. "Bullshit!"

"Zayn owns a white one." She explains, with a careless shrug. "With a hot red interior."

"I should have known that playboy uses a car like this to pick up pussy." He mutters, draining the last of his martini and holding the glass by the stem with the tip of his fingers and his pinkie sticking out.

Jasmine stared at his pinkie finger and felt herself cringe in discomfort. Sammy was beginning to get on her nerves. He was milking the hotels resources. According to her assistant, at the rate he's going with ordering her staff around, Jasmine wouldn't be surprised if people began turning in their resignations. Sure he was a V.I.P guest but to use Reginald who's sole job was to see to guests comfort was taken on an entirely different level. Sammy used the term: me, myself, and I, to extremes.

Obediently, Reginald approached as Jasmine watched on as he took a deep breath of patience and took the glass from him. "Will you be needing further assistance, master Princeton?" Reginald asks.

"You the man, Reggie. I'm good for now." He replies in dismissal returning his attention to Jasmine's narrowed eyes.

Once Reginald enters the lobby Jasmine gives him the stink eye.

"What? Why you looking at me like that?"

"You can't go around ordering my staff for your every beck and call. Reginald has a list of things to do daily besides seeing to the guests comforts. The man won't be able to go home for hours after his shift ends, no thanks to you."

Sammy's mouth drops in mock horror, displaying his fingers on his chest. "Well excuse me for wanting to feel like a pampered royal bitch for once in my life!" He snaps sassily.

"Understand me Sammy. I'm not saying don't enjoy yourself but don't mishandle this extra luxury you've been offered. People feel used and unappreciated when they are treated like dogs. Your treatment is condescending! You practically said 'fetch' like he was some dog when you held out the glass without so much as a look in Reginald's direction. You looked your nose down at him as though you smelled shit! Housekeepers, waiters, bell boys, all these position hold people, treat them with respect or next time Reginald might piss in your martini." She warns.

Suppressing a smile, she watched Sammy's face scrunch in disgust while his entire body shudders. Jasmine was sure a mental image of Reginald pissing in his martini glass was rushing through his head. And he deserved it.

"Maybe I should switch to cosmopolitans." He says after a minute. "I can't look at a martini ever again!" Crossing his arms over his chest and stomping his foot like a agitated child.

"Just learn to say thank you every once in a while. Those two simple words do wonders."

The front entrance of the hotel was bustling as usual: people milling about, some waiting for valet to bring up their cars, others waiting for taxis. The feel of curious eyes and soft murmurs could be heard by Sammy's growing audience. Jasmine searched around her and found a cloud of onlookers making a circle as if they were watching an exhibition.

They must like Sammy's car, she thought.

"Is it brand new?" She inquired ducking her head to peek into the interior of the vehicle. "Having this car on display like this all times of the day would do wonders for my hotels image, you know." Straightening her back and resting her bottom against the driver's side door, pretending to inspect her nails.

"Of course it is, B. It's my early birthday present to myself besides Coco. She's never been driven over 10 miles per hour." He informs her and frowns. "Get off my new girlfriend and get inside, we gonna pop her cherry!"

Now It was her turn to frown. "Sammy I have work to do." Looking down at her watch and straightening. "I have emails to respond to, areas of the hotel I need to inspect daily with my assistant. . . I won't be finished until early evening no thanks to you for agreeing to go out with Cristiano and his trophy fiancée later tonight."

Sammy scoffed. "How old are you? Sixty? With the way you work you're going to be sprouting grey hairs before you hit thirty. You-are-going-to-work-yourself-to-death." He says in a one breath, staring her down. "When is the last time you had any real fun?"

"Honestly?" Her mind flashes back to four months ago at the Beverly Wilshire hotel in her hometown of Los Angeles, California. Sammy arranged a day of pampering and extra surprises they never expected. "It was at Mia's bachelorette party." Referring to her sisters nickname. "I had a blast, despite the surprises it entailed."

It was a day she would never forget.

Sammy buffed his perfect manicured fingers against his shirt and blew some air on them. "That's cause it involved me, of course. I promise we'll have a blast, I'm your pretend fiancé remember? That's what newly engaged couples are supposed to do. You know, go out, get some sun, drive around and stop somewhere hidden and secluded where people get their boogie on. Now, get your sweet ass in, adjust your seat back, buckle up and enjoy the ride."

Jasmine exhaled in defeat as Sammy grips her hand and maneuvers her to the passenger side of the vehicle and opens the passenger door.

"I thought you are trying to avoid Vivian. Why would you put yourself out on display like this?" She asks, as he pushed her inside.

"The coast is clear. I've been having Reggie and Hump tracking her every move. The bitch left the hotel over thirty minutes ago. ."

"Okay fine, but let's try to get back within the hour–." Her sentence was cut off as the door slams in her face. Sammy causally struts over to the drivers side. For someone that looks straight he wasn't acting straight. The dinner tonight was going to be a disaster, she thought. He got lucky Cristiano didn't pick up on his acting skills but with more time, he'd eventually notice, she was sure of it.

He slips into the drivers side, shutting the door.

"You're supposed to act like a refined gentleman in public at all times, Samuel. I mean you're practically walking like you're some runway model." She complained. "You're going to totally blow our cover. And might I remind you, someone could be watching us."

Sammy waves a hand at her dismissively and rolls his eyes, starting the engine. It reeves up instantly. Jasmine's seat vibrated beneath her like a rocket ready to take off.

"Ohhhhhh, listen to her purr. Ain't she a beauty?!?"

"Yes she sounds fabulous." She replies sarcastically, buckling her seat belt.

"I know, right? Now, let's show these peasants how a real bitch drives."

He rolls down his window as he puts his shades over his eyes. "Shows over people! As you were!" He shouts in his fake British accent. However, this only excited the guests as they snapped pictures and took videos.

"Sammy you just had an alcoholic beverage just minutes ago!" Jasmine remembers holding on with a death grip to the dash and door handle. "You are in no condition to drive!"

"Oh pleeeease! One does nothing for me, It goes down like water!" Shifting the car in drive he clasps both hands on the steering wheel and slams on the accelerator. The car jumps and Jasmine's body jerks forward.

The hotel guests that mingled around the lobby watching Sammy and the others waiting for their own transportation practically ran for their lives at the aggressive roar of the V8 engine and the screeching of burning tires.

Jasmine felt her heart drop right out of her chest and could imagine her first white hair sprouting listening to people scream in fright.

He's going to kill business and her, she thought.

"Wooooohoooooo! That's how I roll baby! I'm the whole nine yards! Go home or go all the way!" He shouts from the window, his voice echoing into the air while blasting the radio on high.

*******

Back at the hotel hours later, Jasmine's holds her head as it pounds from the stress and fear Sammy put her through. He didn't kill anybody but he received shouts and horn honking from bystanders and drivers. Handling a vehicle as powerful as a Ferrari took time and Sammy's inexperience was evident in her aching muscles. She was tense the entire hour he drove them around London. Her neck was slightly stiff and her face was as pale as a sheet of paper as she looked in the mirror of the en-suite bathroom.

Sighing she peeled her clothes off and stepped into the steaming tile shower. Groaning in relief, the pressure of the hot stream eased the strain in her muscles as she attempted to massage the knots in her shoulders.

Dinner was just two hours away and Jasmine was dreading the event. Everything inside her warned her against it. No matter how many times Sammy reassured her it would trigger deep hidden emotions in Cristiano and make him see his mistake, Jasmine wasn't thrilled. She wanted to forget him and live her simple life without any toxic distractions like the relentless mind games he sent her every week.

The roses Reginald had delivered just days before laid in a dumpster to rot. She barely cast him a glance and immediately refused to let him enter, demanding they be tossed out. Reginald had a unforgettable shocked expression at her harsh demand but didn't question it as Sammy snatched the note just before he turned to dispose of the arrangement. She couldn't get the words the note read out of her head.

She nor Sammy could translate what the message was supposed to mean but they understood one thing all too well, they were directed to her. Goose bumps spread across her arms and fear shot down her spine. Time and time again, she was astonished at her reaction to the cryptic words that managed to rattle her self-control. Jasmine was even more adamant about not attending the dinner as a warning entered her gut. Her protest fell of deaf ears. Sammy was hell-bent on going and insisted, despite the riddles, they were a step ahead of the game.

An hour later, her honey colored hair blow dried and styled in an elegant ponytail, she slipped on a robe over her bra and panties, heading for her closet to see what she'd wear for tonight. As she was ready to step into her closet, her phone rang on her nightstand. Running back to it she receives a FaceTime call from her sister.

Elation and surprise rushes through her as she accepts the call with a smile.

"Princess Jasmine!" Camelia says with a warm smile, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders.

They always greeted each other as Princesse's when they spoke, a role play they adapted as little children when they'd go running through their parents vast mansion pretending to be Princess's and having tea parties.

"Princess Camelia!" She replies affectionally. "How are you? How's the hubby? How's married life?" Jasmine couldn't stop the question she fired away, plopping down on her bed and adjusting her robe as she laid back on the decorative pillows.

"Fabulous!" Camelia replied quickly with a smirk and wiggling her eyebrows.

They burst into a fit of giggles like two little girls enjoying a inside joke.

"Speaking of Mr. Fabulous. He's driving me crazy Camelia!"

Jasmine and Camelia laugh so hard they hold their middles for at least a minute, wiping the tears from their eyes. Her sister understood more than anybody else how Sammy could be.

"Oh my god, I miss you so much!" Camelia exclaimed looking tan and rested. Her cheeks were rosy and she had a different look in her eye Jasmine had never seen before. Her little sister transformed into a woman in such a short amount of time. "Sammy texted me saying he was going to visit you. I have to admit I was a little nervous."

"Save me please." She pleads propping her phone against her legs, clasping her hands together. "I can't control him! He's so high maintenance! He does the most outrageous things. Says the most inappropriate things. He's treating my staff like slaves. And he drinks martinis all day long like a drug addiction. I mean, come on, his liver is going to explode at the rate he's going!"

Camelia laughed. "Some things never change." She mused. "Now you know why he was forbidden to have a drink during the reception. He's just a dramatic person but always means well even though he may come across as selfish. . . Underneath all that sass deep down Sammy's a sweetheart." Camelia explains trying to lessen her anxiety.

Jasmine shook her head, holding the phone above her as she eased on her back in bed. "I know he's your best friend. I think I've adopted him as my own too. It's just hard to keep up with him. Want to hear what he's done since he's been here?"

Camelia groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Please don't tell me it's anything bad. It can't be worse than what he gifted me at my bridal shower."

"What I'm about to tell you will blow your mind. Do you have time to listen to Sammy's latest adventures?"

After a few minutes of listing everything Sammy has said and done including the issue with Cristiano, Camelia hung her mouth open. "No way." She says in disbelief. "Mr. Gorgeous said all that and he's in London with a fiancée! And sending you flowers with mysterious notes? And Sammy is now your pretend fiancé?" Camelia whistled slowly. "Wow, I've missed out on a lot."

Jasmine left out the intruder and the watchful eyes. The last thing she wanted was to worry her sister and involve her in her dilemma.

Jasmine nods quickly "And things are going to get worse, I can feel it. The drama keeps escalating." She adds as the stack of worry grew like a volcano ready to erupt at any second. "To make things worse, Sammy accepted a dinner invitation Cristiano insisted on." Covering her eyes with one hand as her grip on her phone tightened.

"Ummm, well that'll be awkward."

Jasmine jumps in surprise as the door of her bedroom is flung open and Sammy barges in dressed in a pink robe. "Speak of the devil." She mutters and rolls her eyes.

"Say that again?" He replies with arms folded and a towel wrapped around his head like a turban. "You're supposed to be getting ready in some slutty dress." His eyes narrow on her phone. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hey Sammy!" Camelia calls out, with a smile in her tone.

"Is that my baby girl?" He exclaims and sprints, jumping ungraciously on Jasmine's bed and lays down against one of her pillows making himself comfortable.

She turns her phone over to Sammy and he smiles brightly.

"Ahh look at you baby girl, all sexed up!" He gushes, holding the phone close to his face.

"Sammy." Camelia reprimanded, avoiding eye contact and blushing.

"Sooooo, I want all the details." Wiggling his eyebrows. "How's the sex? What positions have you tried? Is that beast as good as he looks? Tell meeee, I'm starving for info!"

Jasmine buries her face in her hands and groans.

Camelia gasps in shock. "You're sick! I'm not sharing anything of my personal experiences with you of all people Sammy!"

He only rolls his eyes. "Don't be such a spoil sport! I want–"

"You have such an imbalanced mind. You sure you're a psychologist?" Jasmine asked, shifting on her side and curling into a fetal position.

Sammy turns to her in astonishment. "What's wrong with asking? That's what best friends do, you know! We talk about that type of shit together!" He says trying to defend himself.

"This is Camelia we're talking about, she's never going to share her sex life with you so you might as well drop the subject!" She practically snaps, feeling sleepy from her shower and yawning loudly.

"What crawled up your derrière and died Missy?"

Jasmine closes her eyes. "I'm angry with your for almost killing us with your car."

"In my defense, the devil took the wheel not Jesus!"

"And I'm still angry with you for accepting Cristiano's stupid invitation."

"Oh please! Get over it. I'm telling you this will work! We're going to make him want you for the person you are!" He explains. "And when he realizes what he could have had, he's gonna be on his hands and knees wanting you with a passion he's never felt before. That's when you tell him to fück off with your nose up in the air like you're too good for him, which you are!"

"This might actually work, Jasmine." Camelia interceded. "Coco Chanel said it once, "The best things in life are free. The second best are very, very expensive."

"See?" Sammy exclaims, gesturing to the phone. "Someone that understands me. He's going to fall in love with you and realize you have standards higher than a hookers heels!"