Page 35 of Tasty Cherry

Thank goodness I had the presence of mind to turn that down, even though I didn’t want to.

Aisha arrives and can’t quite hide her look of surprise when she sees me. “You’re one of the interns?”

I nod. “There was a mix-up.” I feel Brooklyn turn to me, but I don’t look at her. I hope she doesn’t ask about it. I’m not ready for questions.

“Well, let’s go. Jessica is handling the desk and Sebastian has stepped in, but it’s almost check-out time, and it will only get busier from here.”

I try not to let my step falter as I follow her down the hall, her black pouf of hair swaying as she hurries.

We are dressed like her in our black pants and vests. The only difference is the red swatch of fabric in the tiny pocket on her chest. Ours are empty. I wonder if that’s how people will know we are interns.

“What are your names?” she asks.

“I’m Brooklyn.”

“Mila.”

“Got it. Blonde Brooklyn, Meet-again Mila. I use alliteration to remember names.”

Ooooh, I wish she hadn’t said that.

“You two already met?” Brooklyn asks.

“Just briefly in the lobby yesterday,” I say.

But she’s curious. I don’t want her to be curious!

I count all the people who know Sebastian and I interacted before we should have met. Aisha, Bertie, Ilsa. I hope it can stay limited to that.

When we arrive in the lobby, there is a line of families at the desk. Bertie directs bellboys with carts, the doorman is answering questions, and Sebastian and a mid-fifties woman work behind the desk.

The woman is concentrating hard, but Sebastian is all smiles, as if every person who walks up is making his day.

“That’s Jessica,” Aisha says. “I’m going to have to jump in. Watch from behind the desk, and if we can use you, we’ll direct you.”

We weave through the kids and suitcases and circle the desk. Aisha opens a third station, and the families surge forward.

Sebastian turns to us, and my heart speeds up as our eyes meet.

“Hello!” he says. “Why don’t you two help everyone with the lines? Chat them up. Keep it organized. It will settle down in about half an hour, then ramp up again around eleven when the last wave comes through.”

Brooklyn and I head back into the fray. She immediately starts directing people into three lines. I should do something, but I’m trying to catch my breath from seeing Sebastian in his element.

For a moment, I remember his smile in the bar, our lively conversation. And of course later, in the hotel, his body hovering over mine. He was so happy that night.

I was, too.

“Excuse me, can you call us a taxi?” a man asks me. “We’re going to be cutting it close to get to the airport.”

“Of course,” I tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

But as I head to Bertie to ask him the procedures for calling a taxi, my gaze keeps sliding back to Sebastian, charming his way through the line, making more than one woman twirl her hair as she looks at him.

And I wonder if saying no to him is something I can stick to.

14

SEBASTIAN

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