Page 12 of Inadmissible
“Oh shit,” I groaned, doubling my steps. I set her on her feet and quickly unlocked the door, and she wasted no time sideways stepping toward the bathroom. The door hadn’t even closed good before I heard her throwing up. “Damn,” I muttered, taking slow steps in her direction.
I could admit Monica had a heavy pour, but it also seemed like baby girl wasn’t really a drinker. As she hugged the toilet, I pulled her wavy hair up and out of the way as she emptied the contents of her stomach.
“Oh God. This is so embarrassing,” she complained before regurgitating again.
“On the bright side, your voice sounds clearer and stronger already. You need to get that shit out and sleep so you can sober up.”
She groaned, and as much as I didn’t want to laugh at her expense, I chuckled. I held her hair and rubbed her back until she was done throwing up. After she flushed the toilet, she wiped her face, and I helped her stand. Her bags were in the bathroom in the bedroom, so I followed her back there. As soon as I saw her reach for her toothbrush, I knew she wasn’t a real drinker.
“Uh, you might not want to do that, sweetheart. Not while your stomach is still fucked up.”
“But my mouth tastes nasty.”
Laughing, I ran my pointer finger and thumb down the corners of my mouth to try and cut it off. “I know, but you need to wait, honey. I would recommend swishing some mouthwash around for right now.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed, chucking the toothbrush back in the cup before reaching for the mouthwash. When she started to push her dress down, I told my brain to move my feet, but they were planted. Shaking my head, I went to her aid when she stumbled and almost fell.
“Here, let me help.”
I pushed her bra straps back up, then pulled the dress down. With careful concentration, I kept my eyes on her feet as she stepped out of the dress and groaned. I couldn’t imagine how horrible she felt, and I wanted to try and put her out of her misery as quickly as I could. After helping her slide out of her heels, I picked her back up and carried her to bed. My hands made quick work of pulling the covers up her curvaceous body so I wouldn’t risk sneaking a peek.
“Is there anyone I can call for you, sweetheart?”
Sniffling, she shook her head with a pout. “I’ll be fine, mister. Thanks.”
“Okay,” I replied with a smile before putting her on her side. “Try and lay like this in case you throw up again, okay? I don’t want you to choke in your sleep.”
“What’s your name?” she asked, eyes drifting closed already.
“Tristan. What’s your name?”
Her answer? Heavy breathing as she fell asleep. I stood there for a while, memorizing her features. That led to me sitting in the recliner across from the bed for about an hour, just watching her sleep. I wanted to make sure she didn’t throw up again and choke herself, but I also felt protective and possessive of her in this moment.
Eventually, I forced myself to leave. I went back to the living room area of her suite and grabbed a Gatorade and two pack of Tylenol from the mini bar, then put them on the nightstand by the bed along with a twenty dollar bill in case she didn’t want to pay for anything in the mini bar. After one last glance, I left her alone and prayed she’d never get that drunk alone again.
The Next Morning
She’d been on my mind all night. So much so that as soon as I woke up, I handled my hygiene and went straight to her room. When I got no answer, I wondered if she was still sleep or if she’d checked out. The housekeeper answered my initial question when she went in and my sweetheart was nowhere to be found. I made my way down to the main floor and considered if I wanted to have breakfast or not. Since I couldn’t find and check on her, a part of me wanted to take my ass back to sleep.
“Good morning, Mr. Pierce.” Yolanda, the front desk clerk, spoke.
“Good morning, Yolanda. How are you?”
“Good, thank you. I have something for you.”
As I walked over to the counter, she pulled out a gift card and handwritten letter. “What’s this?” I asked, looking at the gift card.
“One of the guests left that for you. She said you helped her last night, and she wanted to thank you.”
I couldn’t stop my smile from forming as I looked over the gift card to the hotel spa once more. Then, I shifted my attention to the letter.
My Angel,
You saved me. I don’t know what would have happened to me yesterday if you weren’t there. As you may have noticed, I’m not a heavy drinker. I usually only drink tequila and champagne and I know my limit with those. Yesterday, I tried something new, and it was so sweet I forgot it had liquor in it, haha. Nevertheless, thank you. I know you weren’t expecting to carry a woman around the hotel, so I hope the massage at the spa expresses my gratitude along with the actual words. Thank you for taking care of me, making me feel safe, and reminding me there are still good, trustworthy men out there when I needed it most.
Your Sweetheart
I didn’t realize how hard I was smiling until Yolanda cooed then laughed. Giving her a dismissive wave, I headed toward the restaurant with a bit more pep in my step. I would have preferred her name so I could look her up, but Sweetheart would do. Maybe she didn’t need a man pursuing her right now. Maybe all she needed was what I gave—a reminder. Either way, she’d made a lasting impression on me, and there was no doubt in my mind I’d recognize her if I ever saw her again.
