Page 5 of Hidden Vows
Closing the door just as quietly as I opened it, I make the decision to stay up in my room once I get there. It’s not that the people here aren’t friendly, because they most certainly are. It’s just that I’ve never been a talkative person, and trying to feign interest at this time of night is the last thing I want to do.
I’m almost to the stairs when I hear the telltale sounds of footsteps on the wood floor behind me. I contemplate making a run for it, but know my luck isn’t normally that strong.
“Oh, hey. Did you need something?” A feminine voice sounds from behind me.
“No, I’m good. Checked in this morning,” I toss over my shoulder, hoping that’s enough for her to let me keep going.
“I’m sorry.” I hear the hesitation in her voice and it has me turning to face her. “I just—I’m filling in for a friend and I’m honestly not sure what she’d do in a situation like this.” Her nose scrunches in embarrassment, something most men would probably find endearing, though I don’t get the impression she’s trying to be.
I reach into my pocket, pulling out the key to my room. “Is this enough?” I show her the Driftwood Inn key chain attached to the room key.
Her eyes shift to a display rack next to the reception counter.A rack that displays key chains exactly like the one I’m showing her.
“It’s the tattoos, isn’t it?” I ask as I step toward the counter, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet.
I want to say I’m used to being judged on my appearance, and realistically, I am, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
“Uh, no.” She shakes her head, stepping behind the counter. “I actually didn’t notice the tattoos until you held up the key.” The woman gestures to my knuckles, seeing the letters and symbols across them—my constant reminder of everything I hold most dear. “I try not to judge people on their appearance. I’m well aware most people often have it wrong.”
She’s not looking at me as she taps away at the computer in front of her, allowing me a moment to really see her. She’s beautiful—a natural elegance that pulls you in. But it’s the guarded look in her eyes that has me captivated. It’s a look I know well, one that stares back at me in the mirror every day.
“Sorry, I guess I’m used to being judged.” I slide my license across the counter, offering her a tight smile as an apology.
“It’s all right. I understand.” She lifts my license, glancing at it briefly before checking the computer.
I don’t know why I do it. I’m normally more than content to sit in the silence, but something has me opening my mouth. “How is it you know your way around the registration system, but you don’t know how to handle a guest coming through at odd hours of the night?”
She glances at me, passing my license back across the desk before answering. “I guess that’s a valid question. My best friend’s family owns the inn. I’ve sat with her quite a few times while she’s worked check-in, and I guess it stuck with me.”
“Seems odd to ask you to fill in for her instead of another staffmember.” It’s not any of my business, but for some reason, I can’t walk away.
There’s this feeling churning in my gut. Like, if I walk away and go up to my room, something bad’s going to happen. But I have absolutely no idea what it could be.
“Ah.” Her gaze drops to the desk in front of her as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Well, that goes back to people judging others. There was a wedding in town earlier this evening, and most people were invited.” She shrugs, the implications of what she’s left unsaid clear;shewasn’t invited.
Before I can say anything else, my phone starts to ring.
“Sorry. I have no idea who’d be calling me right now.” I reach into my pocket, silencing my phone.
“You better get it. It must be important if someone’s trying to reach you at this time of night.” She offers me a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, that guarded look held firmly in place.
This woman has me quite curious and I want to know her story.
It’s not interest inherthat draws me in, but interest in the mysteries that surround her. It’s not uncommon—it’s the nature of my job, filling in the blanks to the histories around me.
My phone starts ringing again, pulling me from my wandering thoughts. I glance down at it, seeing my father’s face on the screen, and silence the call once more. He can wait one more minute.
“Uh, thanks for the chat…” I let my words trail off, not sure where to go with them.
“Melissa,” she says, extending her hand to mine. “Thanks for letting me verify you’re actually staying here, Jude.”
“Nice to meet you, Melissa. Hopefully you don’t have anyother guests lurking around this evening.”
She laughs but before she can say anything else, my phone rings for a third time. “You better get that. Have a good evening.”
“Thanks.”
I silence my phone one more time, but turn and rush up the stairs to my room as quickly as possible while still being mindful of the sleeping guests in the inn.
