Page 12 of Made For You
The fixtures all looked up to date—something I wouldn’t have imagined, knowing how the hotel lobby looked last year, but with the renovations downstairs, they must have made some small improvements to the rooms as well.
Before leaving the bathroom, I promised the standalone tub that I’d be revisiting it later with a bottle of wine I was definitely ordering from room service.
I unpacked the clothes I brought, excited to know I’d be spending the week at the resort. This was going to be one of the best vacations I’d ever had. As I shut the last dresser drawer, I peered over my shoulder, where the bed was calling my name.
As much as I wanted to explore the hotel, the flight and ride and the argument with my brother—plus the confrontation with the other teacher—left me drained.
Quickly stripping off my clothes, I donned a pair of silk shorts and matching cami and crawled under the sheets. The smell of bleach and a hint of lavender was almost comforting as I snuggled deeper beneath the down comforter.
My phone rested on the nightstand, where I plugged it in before emptying my suitcase, and I set the alarm so I wouldn’t miss the keynote speaker and first session tonight. It would also leave me time for a shower and to find a snack.
“Just an hour,” I said out loud as I closed my eyes. Even with the sun glaring outside the window, I plunged into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from the weekday and the nonsense my ex was trying to pull left my body in need of relaxation.
That’s why, when the alarm blared, I sleepily pressed the snooze button.
Chapter Four – Aurora
Memories of my first day of freshman year of college assaulted me as I rushed through my shower. I remembered oversleeping, for the first time in my life, and was about to miss my first class of the day. An 8:00 a.m. course on entry-level childhood development. Growing up on the farm, I’d become accustomed to waking up on my own at five in the morning or earlier. Whether it be an alarm, the animals, or my own internal clock, it was a rarity that I ever slept past the sunrise. But it seemed living in the dorms knocked my body off kilter, and I left myself just enough time to toss on some clothes, brush my teeth, and sprint to the class across campus.
As I turned off the shower, I reminded myself that no one would be watching me. These were teachers, after all, and it was just the keynote speech. I would not miss anything that was critical.
It didn’t matter what I continued to repeat to myself; the moment the elevator dropped me off in the lobby, I dashed down the hall. I waved to Davey at the front desk as I made my way down the corridor toward the ballroom where the keynote was going to be held.
A quick glance at my watch told me I had two minutes before it was about to start. I looked up just in time to knock shoulders with a man who walked briskly in the other direction. He continued walking as if nothing happened, but I was certain a bruise on my shoulder was going to remain in the aftermath. I peered back to find him already a great distance away. His hair was cropped short on his head, and his black suit was almost too tight for his body, as his limbs strained against the material. Hewas also double the size of some patrons as he walked past. He looked like someone in security.
“Sorry!” I shouted but the man never acknowledged my apology.
“Hmm,” I mumbled as I stepped through the auditorium doors. A gaggle of people followed behind me, searching for a seat, but my eyes were drawn to a small snack table in the back corner. I contemplated at first, but then my stomach was the deciding factor as she rumbled like a monster truck starting its engine.
“We’ll let you all get settled and start the keynote in five minutes,” an announcer said as I grabbed a croissant and a cup of water and leaned against the wall.
The buttery, flaky dough was exactly what I needed to hold me over through the evening. Heck, if they were serving these throughout the convention, I was going to fill up on them and wouldn’t need to splurge on dinner.
I did hate that I was going to miss the complimentary happy hour in the concierge area offered by the hotel for my newly appointed room. I enjoyed a good dirty martini every now and then, but I didn’t want to miss the start of the conference.
Scarfing down the final bits of the baked good, I tossed my empty water cup in the trash and found a seat in the third row… directly behind Gertrude. Thankfully, she was too engrossed in the trio of women when the keynote started, but when the speaker finished up, she turned to leave, narrowing her eyes in my direction.
I stayed back, letting the room empty before making my exit and heading toward the session I was most interested in. Fortunately, I didn’t run into Gertrude again at the session, and I almost made it scot-free until I headed toward the lounge areajust off the lobby. She was seated with her friends, drinking something green that reminded me of the kale smoothies my brother drank when he was on the football team.
I’d tried it once, and it tasted like the grass Dad mowed in the summer. That was the only time, and I vowed to never try it again.
Her friends all turned in my direction as I passed, each one looking like a different version of Gertrude. All with frizzy manes in various colors, glasses a bit too large for their faces, and an earthy bohemian look. I’d admire their carefree, natural look if Gertrude’s didn’t mask an ugly inside.
I smiled sweetly at them as I walked by their table, not letting them know they made me uncomfortable. At first, I looked around the room to see if there was anyone I recognized, but I knew it was futile. Everyone was lost in their own conversations with fellow teachers from their school. As independent as I was, I really wished Franny had been able to make the journey with me.
Taking a steady breath, I told the host I was going to sit at the bar and sidled onto a stool with a view of a pre-season football game. I wasn’t much into sports, but it was something to keep my attention for a little while.
Under the bar, there was a hook where I hung my purse and the tote I brought to hold all the packets handed out during the sessions. I planned to look over the grant information in my room later, but now seemed as good a time as any.
It didn’t take long before the stools beside me filled up with other guests, many I didn’t recognize from the keynote speech earlier, so I assumed they were here on vacation or for business. That’s when I noticed the man from earlier, myshoulder immediately aching as I recalled the way he bumped into me. Without a second thought, I reached up to rub the area.
He was giving his phone all his attention, even as the bartender moved in front of him. She had to crane her neck as he answered her question with a quick headshake. She lingered, and I watched as he nodded once before his eyes met mine. Immediately, I ducked my head and pulled out all the papers I received just an hour ago. Something about him made me uncomfortable, but not in a scary way. It was like he was assessing me, waiting on my next move in a game of kings. And I was a terrible chess player.
The bartender made her way over to me, and I asked for a dirty martini with three blue-cheese olives and a copy of the dinner menu. She quickly handed me the laminated paper and went to make my drink as I scanned it over. Everything looked delicious, and I had a hard time settling on one thing. When she set the drink in front of me, I asked for her recommendation, and I ended up ordering the filet mignon with bearnaise sauce. We chatted for a bit, her asking what I was in town for, as the guests around the bar vied for her attention. I didn’t care, though; it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if the man to my right started getting mouthy in her direction.
With a roll of her eyes, she left me and took all their orders, quickly making their cocktails and not-so-nicely setting them on the bar.
As I sipped the best martini I’d ever had, I skimmed over the grant listings, searching for one in particular.
