Page 11 of David's Chase

My muse might not be that helpful when it comes to writing romance, but it surely knows how to put a spin on anything that happens to me in real life.

“Cat ate your tongue?” I murmur, sliding everything back in, closing the glove box, and turning the engine on.

The voice in my head looks at me with a stoic expression on her little face. As if her shoes were too small and her feet were full of blisters.

“No judging, please,” I say quietly, adjusting the rearview mirror and scanning the parking lot one more time before maneuvering my way out of my spot and making a beeline for the motel entrance, where the glowing sign feels like a good omen.

The car is magnificent.

Smooth and powerful like him.

The night couldn’t have ended better, and not because I have some money in my pocket and a brand new car to my name––to me, it’s new––but because this signals that what’s happening to me is more than simply coming into a windfall.

My life won’t change because of all these gifts and money, but I surely trust him that he’ll come back to me.

It’s shallow thinking at its best, but I won’t ruin my morning with deep thoughts that could put a damper on my mood.

I pull to a smooth stop, the voice in my head finally silenced, and a smile grows on my face.

2

Liz

Knocking on the door,I peer inside.

A smell of freshly brewed coffee drifts from nearby, yet no one comes to the door, which is positively locked.

Glancing to the side, I notice a small lit room with a basket of goodies––pastries, donuts, and fruit––and empty mugs and clean glasses on a food table inside.

The woman slides a pitcher of orange juice next to the food as I knock on the door.

She glances at me and slides the door open, a glint of surprise in her eyes.

“Something happened?” she says before I have the chance to talk.

“Uh… No. I’d like to check out.”

“Oh…”

Her eyes dip to my hand.

“You can leave the key in the box.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. What else?”

“Do you want to check the room?”

She peels her eyes away from me and goes back to arranging the food and drinks on the table.

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

She glances at me again.

“You can have breakfast while you’re here,” she suggests.

I ponder the idea before walking in.

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