Chapter 22

When we arrived at the hotel, I helped the cabbie get the luggage. There was a second when our eyes met and I was sure I saw the same need in his eyes I had seen in both Jordan’s and Danielle’s. However, as soon as Danielle came around, the driver looked her way and accepted his money.

Danielle looked up at me. I wasn’t sure what the expression on my face was, but she asked, “Are you okay?”

I simply nodded. The driver closed the trunk and walked back around to the driver’s side of his car. He didn’t look back and probably only wore that expression because he needed to get home to his wife, girlfriend, or possible liaison for the evening. It didn’t have to mean it was about me.

Danielle turned and picked up a suitcase.

I grabbed the other and said, “I can carry both.”

She shook her head at me. “No, the bellboy will take them once we get inside. It’s not that heavy and we don’t have to go far.”

I sighed, watching her turn and walk away. I followed her and seconds later, sure enough, a man in a uniform offered to take our luggage. We handed them over and followed him across the entry.

I knew the hotel would be nice, but I had never seen anything so ... Well, the word that popped in my head was “rich”. The floor was covered by wall to wall carpeting rather than hard wood. Extravagant throw rugs were used to break up the space. The wood on the walls and columns looked red, making me think cherry, but I didn’t know wood grains well enough to be certain. Arm chairs were arranged into four-person groups around highly polished tables, and potted plants were placed here and there too. It was more sophisticated than I knew to expect. Certainly a far cry from the motel we left.

Danielle caught me gawking and slipped her hand in mine. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

I nodded. Nice was an understatement.

The bellboy stopped at a desk where a woman in a similar uniform smiled at us. She had light blonde hair pulled up in a bun and faded blue eyes. She looked like she was bone tired, and her expression was plastered on her face for show. Her uniform, like the bellboy, was a dark blue vest over a white blouse. She had a nametag over her right breast that read “Sandy”. Looking from me to Danielle she said, “Welcome to the Selador. Do you have a reservation?”

Danielle answered. “No, but we’d like to get a room for the weekend.”

Sandy’s smile didn’t shift in the slightest, like a mask that wouldn’t move short of being melted or struck by a hammer. “Let me see what we have available.”

I turned and looked at the lobby, specifically how many people were around. It didn’t seem busy, but then I didn’t know if there were any special events or how busy they normally were on weekends, making it hard to judge.

Sandy looked up and said, “We have a suite available.” She sounded surprised, but maybe that was just me.

Danielle nodded. “We’ll take it.” She didn’t even bother asking about the price or what came with the room. Thinking about it, I knew I wouldn’t know what a good suite would be versus a bad one, and not having any ideas or suggestions, I kept my mouth shut and let Danielle handle the arrangements.

After doing some typing, Sandy asked, “What card would you like to use?”

Danielle pulled one out of a small clutch purse I hadn’t even been aware of previously. It had a silver face on it, but having never had my own credit card I didn’t recognize it.

Sandy’s smile never wavered. If anything, it looked like it actually reached her eyes. She accepted the card and swiped it. A few seconds later, she handed the card back and turned to retrieve some papers printing out behind her. Sandy had Danielle sign the paper work and handed over a keycard to the bellboy. “Suite four-fifteen, David.”

David nodded, accepting the card. He slipped it in his vest pocket, picked up Danielle’s luggage, and led us to the elevators.

I didn’t say anything in the elevator or the hall. It was bad enough that I looked like a tourist, much less trying to fit in with people who could probably smell the difference between my non-existent bank account and their Wall Street portfolios.

We watched David open the door, turn on the light in the room, and carry Danielle’s bags inside. Danielle thanked him and I just caught her handing him some money. He left, smiling and pulling the door softly closed.

I turned to Danielle with the most urgent question on my mind. “Um ... who did you sign us in as?”

She shrugged and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Stone.”

My eyebrow arched. “Don’t you think that when Roger gets the bill for that card...”

She interrupted me. “This is my card. I pay for it. So, no, he won’t know.”

The look in her eyes told me I may have gone too far, so I nodded and stepped back from her. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume everything you have is his.”

Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of worst case scenarios. I could keep my silence, but that was all. I was sure Roger would find out where Danielle was staying and that she wasn’t alone. If he was as vindictive as Jordan suggested, he might come looking for her. What would I do then? What would Danielle let me do?

She sighed. “And I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m hungry. So, let me check my makeup and we’ll go down for dinner.” She ran a finger down my chest and then stood up on her tip-toes to kiss me before leaving for the bathroom.

I stood there, feeling better that she wasn’t mad, and looked around the room. Once again, I felt the wonder of being in such a fancy hotel.

The motel room had been simple, very utilitarian. This suite, however, wasn’t only a simple bedroom. When I heard Sandy call it a “suite”, I didn’t know what that really meant. Looking around the main room, I realized it was more like a living room with a couch, several chairs, a coffee table and what I thought was an armoire. The armoire turned out to be an entertainment center with doors that concealed a plasma television.

I walked around a counter behind the couch, almost expecting to find a small kitchenette, but didn’t. There was a sink, several glasses, and bottles of several types of liquor, all of which were sealed and looked full. We had a wet bar in our suite.

Other than the door leading out to the hall, there were two others. The one Danielle had walked through to go to the bathroom and another that looked like it led outside. I walked over and pulled it open slowly. It lead to a sort of patio complete with an outdoor dining set, several potted plants and a view of the street in front of the hotel. I closed that door and followed Danielle through the other one.

The bedroom was just as ritzy as the rest of the suite. The bed looked huge with two posters at the head and a frame made of some kind of dark, almost black wood. The comforter was thick and four huge pillows of matching design were laid out along the head of the bed. Off to the side, by a huge window, was a breakfast table with two chairs with a lot more space to maneuver around than the motel room had offered.

I shook my head. The suite probably cost more than I had saved up in four years of working on cars, including the extra money I had made selling a car I had fixed up so I had the money for the flight to Texas. After seeing the house Danielle and Roger lived in and the cars they drove, I didn’t doubt they had the kind of money it would take to enjoy a weekend in a hotel like this.

I spotted a phone next to the bed and remembered the need to call Jordan, to tell her where we were so she wouldn’t worry. I walked over to the only door I hadn’t walked through yet and knocked. “Danielle? Do you know Jordan’s phone number?”

A few seconds later the door opened and Danielle came out. “I didn’t bring my phone with me. I left it at the house so I wouldn’t have to worry about Roger calling me every half hour or more.”

She went to the phone and dialed a number. After listening a few seconds, she punched in several numbers and then wrote a number down on the pad sitting next to the phone. She straightened up, smiled at me, and went back to the bathroom.

“Don’t you want to talk to her?” I asked.

She stopped in the doorway. “I will when you’re done.” For a second, she lingered there. I would have said posing, but I wasn’t sure. Her smile grew brighter and then she quietly stepped into the bathroom and pushed the door to.

I blinked when the door clicked shut and shook my head slightly. Something about the way she looked at me caused me to stare like a deer caught in headlights. I wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted, but it was what she got.

I went to the bed and sat down. The bed was soft and gave to my weight, unlike the one back at the motel. I picked up the cordless phone and dialed the number Danielle gave me.

“Hello?” Jordan answered.

“Jordan, it’s Seth.”

“Seth? What’s up? Can’t be all bad, you’re still breathing.” I could hear the humor in her voice.

I smiled but that was it. “Yeah, but the motel you left us at had thin towels.”

Unlike me, Jordan didn’t need any other hints. “What hotel are you at? No, wait, let me guess: the Selador?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Danielle says she has a friend who manages the restaurant.”

“Jana,” Jordan said. “I think you’ll like her, though the feeling may not be mutual.”

“Danielle told me about her already. I don’t know if she was playing, but when I joked about defending her from Jana, she seemed to consider it.”

“Really?” Jordan said. It was a few seconds before she added, “Well, if that’s what Danielle wants...”

I shook my head. “I made that offer, but then she ... she...”

“She what?” Jordan’s voice was lower. I could almost hear the smirk on her face.

I rolled my eyes. “You already know.”

“No, I don’t,” she said with some indignity. “I want you to tell me.”

I looked around the room. No one else was there, Danielle was shut in the bathroom, and Jordan was somewhere miles away. Why should I be so embarrassed about what happened? “She ... went down on me,” I said quickly, as if saying it faster would make it not as bad.

Jordan giggled. “Would it be too much to ask for details?”

My mouth fell open. I couldn’t even think.

“From the sound of your response, I think I can guess what it was like,” she said, giggling some more. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

I could feel my face burning. “We were in the cab on the way here,” I said, as if it was supposed to be an excuse to try and make my feelings irrelevant.

Jordan giggled harder. “Now there’s one hell of a tip for the driver!”

I flopped back on the bed, groaning.

“Seth?” she asked.

“What?”

“Did she make you cum?”

“She wasn’t going to stop until I did,” I said, almost grinding my teeth.

Jordan giggled again, but then she stopped. “You know, she always told me she didn’t like doing that.”