Page 21 of The Woman in 3B
I put my phone away rather than respond to Gemma’s most recent text. She had a point, but I didn’t want to admit that she was right. I didn’t necessarilywantto be single; it wasn’t like Ienjoyedcoming home to an empty apartment at night, but with my ever-changing work schedule, what other options did I have?
The airport van eventually slowed and turned into the parking lot of a roadside hotel. The neon sign out front boasted of a free continental breakfast and HBO. The van’s sliding door jerked open, and I tumbled out first, eager to stretch my legs and back. My job was to travel in confined spaces, but even I had my limits.
I took a moment to inspect our surroundings. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere—no gas stations or fast food restaurants in sight. We were far from the light pollution from the airport and Philadelphia, but no stars were visible on that cloudy night. The rain had mostly stopped, but periodic gusts of wind still threatened to carry away anything not tied down.
The few of us with luggage waited for our baggage to be unloaded from the back of the van before we filed into the hotel lobby. I was surprised to find even more people waiting inside the reception area. The hotel didn’t strike me as a popular tourist destination, but it hadn’t occurred to me until then that multiple flights had been canceled and that more than the people from my van needed someplace to stay.
“Can I get everyone’s attention?” A tall, middle-aged man at the front of the hotel lobby waved his hands over his head and waited for the anxious chatter to subside. “I know you’re all tired from a long day, so we’re going to make this as painless as possible. Your airline is taking care of your accommodations tonight, so we really don’t need to go through a formal check-in process. Just line up over here,” he instructed, “and I’ll give you a key. We’ve got plenty of space, so don’t worry about us running out of rooms.”
I pulled my suitcase behind me and fell into line with the others. Lara took up space in the queue beside me. All of this was highly unusual, but I suspected the hotel staff wanted to get each van of newcomers settled as swiftly as possible. The line of about thirty or so passengers moved forward as the hotel proprietor freely handed out plastic keycards like they were Halloween candy.
“We could share a room?” Lara chimed in as we shuffled closer to the front of the line. “Maybe save the airline some money?”
Her words and her smile were innocent—altruistic, even. And it would give the hotel staff another room in case more passengers came trickling in. But I didn’t trust myself not to fall back into bed with this woman who’d already twisted my heart once before.
“I snore,” I blurted out.
Lara’s features pinched. “I don’t remember you ever snoring?”
“It’s, uh, it’s a new development.” I scrambled under the weight of the lie. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your night.”
I didn’t stick around long enough for her to react. I grabbed my room key from the hotel manager and quickly scampered off in the direction of my assigned room.
Stale cigarette smoke hit my nostrils upon opening the door to my room. I pulled my wheeled luggage past the threshold and promptly locked the deadlock and engaged the sliding chain the moment the door shut behind me. Typically, I checked out my room with the door propped open—if someone was already in my room I had an easier escape—but I couldn’t risk Lara knowing what room I’d disappeared to.
I fumbled in the dark to find a light toggle, but was only underwhelmed when the room eventually illuminated. Two double beds. A small, flat-screen TV on a chest with three drawers. Matching nightstands for each of the beds. The mustard-yellow lampshades that covered the bedside lamps were straight out of the Seventies. The rust-orange carpet was thin and dingy; I immediately decided my bare feet would not be touching it.
When I stayed overnight on a two- or three-day trip, the airline didn’t exactly go all out and put us up in four-star hotels, but my current residence was little better than a roadside motel. Only the fact that room doors opened into a hallway and not a parking lot, kept the M- out of my lodging’s category.
I hadn’t had time to use the bathroom or even change my clothes when I heard a knock at my door. I sighed into the empty room. Lara Pierson seemed determined to break my resolve.
I began the task of unfastening the multiple locks of my hotel door. “Lara,” I called through the barrier, “don’t tell me they ran out of rooms.”
When I yanked the door open, my protest died on my lips. I had assumed my colleague and one-time fling had followed me to my room. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see Anissa—the woman from seat 3B. I hadn’t noticed her in the group outside of the airport or in the van to the hotel—not that I’d been looking for her. She must have been shuttled to the off-site location with a different group.
She wore the same outfit she’d been wearing at the airport, only a little more wrinkled and creased than before. Since last I’d seen her, she’d pulled her long, dark locks into a high ponytail. The loose waves spilled down the back of her neck like an iridescent waterfall.
Anissa cocked a dark eyebrow in amusement. “Expecting someone?”
“No, uh, just someone I work with.” I scanned the empty hallway as if expecting to see Lara lurking in the shadows. “What are you doing here?” Apparently subtly was not one of my strengths.
“My flight back to Detroit was canceled.Allthe flights were canceled,” she needlessly reminded me.
She hadn’t exactly answered my question. She had explained her presence at the hotel, but not at my door.
“What, uh …” I nearly asked how she had found me, but I managed to remember my manners. As long as I was in my uniform, I was technically still on-the-clock for the airline. “Can I help you with something?”
“Right. Sorry.” She shook her head with a quiet chuckle. “I saw you with your luggage in the lobby earlier, but you took off before I could talk to you. I don’t suppose you have an extra set of pajamas?” Her voice lilted up hopefully. “I checked my suitcase when I left Miami, and the airline wouldn’t give it back after my flight was canceled. All I have is my work bag and what I bought earlier from the duty-free store.”
She held up a clear plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed before. Amber-colored liquid sloshed around in a liter-sized glass bottle.
“I really don’t want to sleep in the clothes I’ve been wearing all day,” she continued to explain, “and there’s no way I’m sleeping naked. I’ve seen too many TV exposés about how dirty hotel beds are.” She shuddered where she stood, but not from the cold.
I unconsciously licked my lips. My tired brain had juvenilely honed in on one word in her entire soliloquy. Naked. I bet her bra and underwear matched. She seemed the type to coordinate those things. I wondered what color they were.
I realized I’d been silent for an unwarranted amount of time. I shook my head hard and banished improper thoughts. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Come in. I should have something.”
“Thank you,” she breathed in relief. “You’re really saving me.”
