Page 30 of Heartbeats and Hashtags
There's a knock on my bedroom door. I’m still only half-clothed.
“I’m on the phone!” I call out to Cole. I think I hear a muffled grunt in reply. Rolling my eyes, I return chatting to Tanya.
“Not you. Not like this. I know you too well, my dear friend. You totally just got back from a great get-dick appointment, didn't you?” I accuse playfully. I never claimed to be classy.
“Lies and slander!” she declares in an exaggerated British accent. Then she breaks the character with a loud sigh. “Okay, fine, you got me. I confess last night was...particularly satisfying.”
I brush my hair, smiling and shaking my head. Tanya has always been boy-crazy, but since her big breakup, she's been hesitant to get serious again. As long as she's being safe, I'm happy she's having fun. Lord knows we could all use some carefree joy these days.
“So?” I prod. “Who's the lucky guy? Or girl?” We'd agreed to never assume each other's sexuality in our group, after one day when Daisy opened up and told us she was into girls as well. She said she'd been scared to tell us in case we thought she'd been lying to us or it changed our opinion of her. It was the opposite. I couldn't be prouder of her for being comfortable with who she was. Since then, that's why we don’t assume sexuality with one another and always allow each other to grow and be who we are.
The reason for Daisy's bisexual confession was that she needed to vent to us about a secret relationship she'd been on and off with for a while. She'd had her heart broken a few years ago by a pretty blonde with a pixie cut named Delilah. For years, Daisy cried,hard, any time “Hey There, Delilah” played. This was more often than you think, as it is one of Tanya’s favorite songs, and she refused to remove it from her playlists. Tanya claimed that Daisy should “embrace the tears” and cope with hearing the name.
Tanya launches into the wild story about how they met and how he is a finance bro – but apparently not one of the bad ones, and I lean back contentedly and let her familiar, theatrical voice wash over me.
“And, basically, I think I'm in love,” Tanya finishes dramatically.
I drop my head into my hands.
“Tanya, you are not in love.”
“But I am! I'm serious this time. Everly, he's perfect. And so hot. It's sexy when he gets home from work, and I take off his tie and?—”
She rambles a mile a minute, trying to justify this new infatuation. “Whoa, slow down,” I interrupt.
Tanya takes a breath. We've been here too many times before. She's tough as nails to the outside world but a secret romantic at heart. And she fallsfast and hard.
“Honey, how many times have we done this dance?” I ask gently.
“But this time is different!” she protests.
A news headline catches my eye on the TV in the background, making my stomach drop.
“Hang on,” I cut her off, turning up the TV volume.
“Really sorry, Tanya, I gotta go. I promise the next time we chat you can tell me all about your new man. But please just protect your heart. Don't fall too quick. I love you.” She returns the sentiment, and I hang up.
“Major storm system set to slam East Cost - tonight. All flights grounded, travel highly discouraged.”
Shit. I'm supposed to fly back in six hours. I quickly check online to see if my flight is still on. Nope. And the next flight it looks like I can get two seats for is tomorrow morning.
I toss my phone and groan, collapsing onto the bed. As beautiful as this place is, I just want this trip to be over. I am so ready to get home.
The lobby isutter chaos when I step out of the elevator. Guests are crowded around the front desk in a swarm, voices rising in frustration. In the corner, a couple argues in angry whispers. There are lots of people waiting around, all looking just as put out as me.Great, there goes my hope for an easy room switch.
I force my way through the mob to the front desk. Behind it stands a harried young woman with a pinched smile and tense shoulders.
“Excuse me,” I say, straining to be heard over the crowd. “My flight tonight was canceled, so I need a room.”
She shakes her head, not even looking up from her computer. “I'm very sorry, but we're entirely booked with other stranded guests.”
I chew my lip. “Are you sure there's nothing available? I'm staying in one of the suites, but we don't have another night booked. Can't we just stay in there one more night?”
“I’m sorry but my hands are tied.” She gives me a patronizing smile. “I can add you to our waitlist, but as you can see the chances are very slim.” She looks up at the clock. “And it seems you have about one hour before checkout.”
I bite my lip, debating if I should pull the influencer card. I know, it's an embarrassing tactic one that I try to never use, but I'm so ready to get out of this reception. I hesitate then decide to play my card. “Well, I don't mean to name-drop,” I say, giving her my most charming smile, “but I'm actually Everly Ford – you know, OhItsEverly. I have a pretty big social media following.” I give her my most charming, humble grin. “If you could possibly find me a room, I'dloveto post about what an amazing hotel this is.”
She purses her lips. “Miss, I don't know who you are, and quite frankly I don't care. I have dozens of irate guests to assist. You'll simply have to wait your turn.”
