I could eat that girl for lunch Yeah, she dances on my tongue

There were two things Lola Al Khatib hated; being needy and tardiness. She paced around the hotel room, sporadically checking her phone which she had thrown on the bed.

A soft knock sounded on the hotel room door. Lola’s breath hitched, she opened the door, leaning casually against the doorframe as if she hadn’t spent the last 30 minutes waiting and pacing. “You’re late.”