Page 13 of Beyond the Fame

“I’d like to check in. Jensen Boliver.”

The clerk composes herself and taps away at the keyboard. I turn to Rebecca, who saw the whole flirty interaction with the clerk. She radiates disgust, and I swear there’s a hint of jealousy there too.

Jealous? Good.

“Oh yes, here you are, Mister Boliver.”

Rebecca sneers.

“Great. Can you give me two key cards, please?”

The clerk flicks her eyes at Rebecca, then back to me. She doesn’t hide the scowl, clearly wanting all my attention.

“Of course,” she says through a forced smile.

She takes a few seconds to scan the cards before setting them down on the counter and telling me it’s room 909 on the top floor.

“Do you… do you mind taking a picture with me?” the clerk asks shyly. I glimpse at Rebecca, and she rolls her eyes. “I recognize you from that show. The 80s one you were in—Metal & Mayhem. And now you direct movies? That’s so cool. I really loved that sad one from a few years ago.”

“Why thank you…” I glance down to her chest at her name tag. “…Vilonia. Beautiful name. I’d love to take a picture with you.”

She nearly runs around the counter. “Thank you so much. I already got a photo with Mylan Andrews. He checked in a couple of hours ago with his girlfriend. They were so nice, like you.” She holds her phone up in selfie-mode.

“Actually.” I pass Vilonia’s phone to Rebecca. “Becky, do you mind?”

Fire as hot as a thousand suns shoots back at me behind her sharp blue eyes.

“Sure,” she grits out.

I wrap my arm around Vilonia’s waist, which she takes it upon herself to move my hand lower, so it rests near her ass. Rebecca, of course, notices it, and that blaze behind her glower intensifies.

I relish her jealousy.

Rebecca snaps a few pics before handing Vilonia her phone. Then she swipes one of the key cards off the counter and stomps off, dragging her oversized suitcase behind her.

“Thank you, Vilonia.” I smile, grabbing my card and luggage.

I walk off and try to catch up with Rebecca. Once I do, she’s already inside one of the resort’s three elevators, standing in front of the button panel.

“Becky,” I warn, still a few feet away.

The elevator she’s in is nearly packed, and everyone watches in confusion as she frantically stabs at the panel, clearly pushing the ‘door close’ button, as she makes no attempt to keep them open for me.

She raises a brow, sneers, then flips me off before the doors shut.

Really mature.

It’s check-in time at the resort, which means a crowd has formed, all waiting for an elevator to take up to their rooms. After several minutes of waiting, I’m finally on my way up to the top floor.

It takes about five minutes to drop other guests off before the elevator stops on the ninth floor. I make my way down the hallway towards the suite at the end. The entire hotel is an open concept. To my right, the wall is gone, allowing for spectacular views of the setting sun. I pause and close my eyes, letting the salty air rush over me. This is the first vacation I’ve had in years. The last one was with Mylan, before he went on a downward spiral with his addiction and alcoholism. We spent a week in Switzerland. It was by far the best week of my life. That country is beyond beautiful; as if a painting came to life and exploded to form the landscape, resembling worlds from some of my favorite science fiction movies.

Mylan was my vacation buddy until he decided he no longer cared about his life. I can’t even think about those years or the depression that I fell into. How defeated I felt when my best friend refused my help and was determined to die.

I immersed myself in my work to escape the stress and even though Mylan finally got help, thanks to finding Lana, I still haven’t slowed down. I still haven’t let myself process the hurt. The apology letter he wrote during his year-long recovery helped me understand. It allowed us to reconnect. It did not, however, heal the darkest parts I can’t seem to shake.

I open my eyes and my breath catches in my throat. This sunset is unreal. The vibrant colors—dark blue fading into purple, pink, orange, and yellow. Not a cloud in the sky obstructs this view and I consider staying here until the day melts into night.

But I have a bratty woman to deal with.

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