by L. S. Scott
“No, that’s ok. You can leave it at the front desk and I will come down and get it,” I insisted.
“As you wish ma’am.”
“Thank you Ellis. I owe you one.” I ended the call, relieved.
I visited the potty and brushed my teeth then headed to the door. As soon as I swung the door open, the reality that I was no longer at college or in po-dunk Arkansas hit me. Maybe a wife beater, daisy dukes and flip flops wasn’t the impression I wanted to make on my future co-workers. When I stopped and spun around, I dropped my new cell phone into the hall. When I stepped out to get it I let the door shut behind me.
I dropped my head and closed my eyes as I slowly turned to face the door. Please don’t be locked, please don’t be locked. With my hand resting on the knob, I took a deep breath and gave it a turn, yep, it was locked. I wanted to cry. With my forehead pressed against the door I spewed profanity toward the floor. The urge to kick the living shit out of the door was overwhelming. The knowledge that security cameras were everywhere is the only thing that stopped me.
Once my fit passed, I started running through my options. I could march my trailer trash looking ass into the fancy lobby with all the rich guests and get another card and my purse or I could call the front desk and have someone bring it to me. But, who the hell am I to be asking people to wait on me. Jessica’s reaction to me told me already that there was probably going to be some people that were less than enthusiastic about me presence. The last thing I needed to do was make it worse by being demanding.
I raised my arms and place a hand on each side of the door frame and hung my head, about the time I had accepted my fate, the elevator dinged and the door slid open. I froze; hands on the door, head hung low and eyes squeezed shut. What knew humiliation was I in for now? I couldn’t look. When the designer leather shoes and gray slacks stopped beside me and the faded smell of expensive cologne filled my nostrils, I didn’t have to. I knew, that as I stood locked out of my room in little more than my underwear, my billionaire boss looked on in disappointment and probably disgust.
“Your hand bag, Miss Mills,” a voice laced with held back laughter purred at my side.
Thanks a lot Ellis. I cleared my throat and stood up squaring my shoulders, “Thank you Mr. Flynn. I was coming to the front desk to get it myself,” I informed him defensively.
His blues eyes twinkled with amusement and his dimple made an appearance as he assessed my situation and smiled.
“I see,” he said simply and stood with his hands in his pockets.
His tie was gone and his jacket hung over his wrist casually. Here he was, looking like he stepped out of a Polo add and here I was looking like I stepped out of a Hee Haw skit.
I shook my head and grinned to keep from crying. My cheeks were so red I could see them glowing under my eyes, “Please don’t laugh at me,” I begged, half laughing myself.
“Are you locked out,” he asked, trying to sound sympathetic but reveling in making me admit it.
“Yes sir. I am locked out,” I confirmed.
He smiled with more satisfaction than entirely necessary or normal for that matter. I was really starting to think this man liked to see me squirm.
With a slow, arrogant coolness, akin to James Spader’s ‘Steff’ in Pretty in Pink, he pulled a card key from his wallet. He brushed past me to open the door just as the elevator door dinged and slid open again. It was pure mischief in his eyes when he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, blocking my entrance into the room and forcing me to suffer the humiliation of being seen by whoever stepped off the elevator.
“You have a key to my room,” I asked warily.
“Well, hello again,” a deep voice interrupted.
I looked behind me before turning toward the greeting. It was then I realized he was talking to me because the man that stepped out of the elevator was none other than my sidewalk savior from earlier in the day. What had I done to deserve such a truck load of horse shit to be dumped on my head I did not know. But I felt sure my karmic debt would be paid in full by the end of the day.
“Hello,” I replied as I turned to face him. I had given up all hope of escaping with any dignity. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” I joked.
He chuckled and stopped a couple feet from me. Flynn stood motionless, watching me intently from my door.
“I hope not,” he said smoothly.
I swallowed hard. Before I could respond, Flynn stood from his leaning position and stepped out into the hall, the hands in the pockets, calm and aloof. My nameless friend’s smile didn’t disappear, but adjusted to one more suitable for a man to man exchange.
“Oh, hello. Nicholas Cain,” he said as he extended his right hand. Nicholas Cain, what a movie star name, I thought.
Flynn returned the manly smile and the two men shared a firm hand shake, “Connor Flynn,” he said collectedly, every inch the distinguished business man.
“Flynn? Nice to meet you,” the stranger said.
“Like wise,” Flynn nodded politely.
Watching the strained exchange between the two was a little uncomfortable and I wasn’t really sure why. His smile softened as he turned his attention back to me, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” I answered simply.
I was going to have to get over being rendered speechless by exquisite men if I were going to make it in this town. He nodded to us both and disappeared around the corner and I watched him the whole way. When my attention returned to the road block in my door, the sexy dimple had been replaced.
“You know him?” Flynn’s voice was as placid as his poker face.
”Yes, no, well kind of,” I stuttered and squeezed my way through the door to my room.
“It’s a yes or no question Miss Mills.” I wasn’t sure what tone I detected in his voice, but keeping in mind he had just given me the opportunity of a lifetime, I tried to answer meekly.
“He caught me.”
“Caught you doing what,” he asked coldly.
“I fell, this morning before my interview. I was pushed in the street and he caught me. He put my shoe on for me,” I clarified light heartedly as if it were no big deal.
“How chivalrous,” he sneered, closing the door behind him as he entered my room. It had been a long time since I had contended with it, but I could have sworn there was a hint of jealousy in his tone.
My composure wavered, “You would’ve preferred he let me fall and I came to my interview with bloodied knees,” I retorted as if I weren’t speaking to the owner of the multi-billion dollar resort at which I was employed.
Then it struck me that this was the second time today he had made his way to my room. I turned my back and busied myself putting my empty luggage away in the walk in closet around the corner from the sofa.
“No, of course not.” His tone became mildly apologetic.
He moved around my suite to admire the view from one of my large windows, “did you enjoy your lunch?”
His features softened as our eyes met. Again I found myself distracted by his hands in his pockets. It’s like he was hiding something and I was dying to know what.
“Yes it was really good, thank you.”
He pulled his left hand from its hiding place and checked the Rolex on his wrist.
“It’s after eight, do you have dinner plans?”
The direction of the conversation started to make me nervous. Even though his presence would be welcome under other circumstances, I did not want people to think I slept my way to the top.
“I’m just gonna snack. I could use some chocolate after the day I’ve had,” I joked. “Thanks again for bringing my bag. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
He sauntered to the door and flashed his dimple as he turned the knob, “I have a key to every door, Miss Mills,” he clarified and winked as the door closed behind him, a gesture that left me shaking my head in disbelief. Connor Flynn was flirting with me.
I rummaged thr
ough my bag and found my old cell, bubbling over as it rang.
“Hey sis,” my brother Jacob answered cheerfully.
“I got it! I got it! I got it! I got it!” I shouted into the phone.
“Whoa, you got what?”
“The internship. I’m in Vegas. And I got it.”
“Congratulations baby sister. You deserve it. I’m so proud of you,” his voice cracked with pride and emotion. “Do you got everything you need? I mean, if you need some money for an apartment or something, I can wire it to you.”
“Nope, I’ve been saving for an apartment, but, the job comes with a suite,” I said.
“A suite or a room,” he asked.
“A suite. Right now I’m in a luxury suite at The Flynn in Vegas,” I boasted in a sing song voice.
“Wow, that’s quite a perk for an intern.”
“Yeah, I kind of get the feeling that Mr. Flynn has the hot’s for me. But that’s kind of hard to believe considering he is a sexy billionaire. But, he keeps showing up at my room, I know he has better things to do. And a minute ago he winked at me when he left.”
“He’s in your room at 8:30 at night,” Jake asked apprehensively.
“What? He’s my boss.”
“Exactly,” Jake said, protective anger creeping into his voice.
“Stop worrying and be happy for me. He wanted me, or the intern, whoever that turned out to be, to stay in the hotel because it is safer than some low rent apartment. I don’t think he’s a bad guy Jake.”
A knock at the door interrupted my phone conversation.
“Room Service!”
“Hold on Jake, there’s someone at the door.” I peeked through the hole to find a waiter gracefully balancing a plate covered with a shiny silver dome on the tips of his fingers. I opened the door slowly, “I didn’t order room service.”
“It was sent up for you,” he answered.
“Ok,” I said perplexed. “Just put it on the table please. Here you go,” I extended my hand with a tip I hoped wasn’t insultingly low.
“No ma’am. Mr. Flynn took care of it. Enjoy,” he said and disappeared into the hall.
“Hey, you still there,” I asked into the phone.
“Yeah, I’m here. What was that all about?”
I uncovered the dish, “Uumm, room service brought me the biggest piece of chocolate cake I’ve ever seen,” I said smiling uncontrollably.
“You mean Mr. Flynn, sent you the biggest piece of chocolate cake you’ve ever seen,” he chided. “I heard the waiter, Mr. Flynn took care of it,” he mocked.
“Stop it!”
“Just promise you’ll be careful sis. The rich and powerful don’t like to take no for an answer,” he warned.
“I promise. I don’t even start until Monday, so I have all week to play,” I go on, disregarding his big brother worriedness.
“Oh hell, that’s even worse, you, running loose in Vegas.”
I laughed and we talked for over an hour, while I whittled away at the mountainous slice of cake. I told him all about the most embarrassing day of my life that turned out to also be the best day of my life.
I begged him and Tiffany to fly out to Vegas and spend the week with me but he couldn’t get away. He had moved up to management in a mid-sized oil company and the extra salary came with a truck load of extra responsibility. The oil industry was a 24-7 business and he was practically on call 24-7.
“You sound tired, you should get some sleep, rest up for that week of debauchery you got ahead of you.”
“Yeah right. I’m as vanilla as they come.” We laughed together. “Can I say hi to Tiff first?”
Not long after graduation, Tiffany had moved to Texas and became Mrs. Jacob Mills and made me the happiest sister and best friend on the planet.
“She’s asleep. She’s been a little under the weather lately, flu bug or something. I will give her the good news and have her call you.”
“Okay, tell her I love her and I love you too.”
“I love you too sis, I’m so proud of you. You really do deserve this.”
“Thanks, holler at ya later.”
“K, bye.”
We hung up and I felt a little sad. I turned the tv on to some South Park reruns and cuddled up on the couch wrapped in the raggedy ass old quilt my grandmother made. I replayed the day’s events in mind. It still seemed like a dream. I got the internship I had worked so hard for. I met a gorgeous man on the street and again in the hallway. I met and seemed to have made some sort of impression on a beautiful billionaire and my new digs were the bomb.
I picked my new cell up off the coffee table and stared at Connor Flynn’s number. I debated. Would it be out of bounds to text him? Would it give the wrong impression? Did I have the wrong impression? It was a little far-fetched to think that he had any interest in me. It was that logic that led to my decision.
TY for desert.
I typed the simple text and stared at it for a minute. I shrugged, what the hell, and hit send. I set the phone back on the table and closed my tired stinging eyes on the bizarre day.
Chapter Twenty-four
It was a little past five a.m. when I woke, swaddled in my homey quilt. I surveyed my surroundings; half expecting to find myself back in my dorm room. Relief and delight had me smiling ear to ear at my new reality. After being closed off to almost all human emotions, the rush of happiness, excitement and pride, was a bit overwhelming.
I emerged from my comfy wrap and started a cup of coffee at the small but well stocked gourmet coffee station and hopped in the shower. Standing under the stream of the steaming water, I reflected on the previous day’s events. I was proud of myself for persevering, completing college on my own, and reaching this goal. What I wasn’t proud of was my less than impressive behavior around Mr. Flynn.
He wasn’t your typical hotel magnate and didn’t exhibit the usual spoiled, rich frat boy behavior, living in the lap of luxury on daddy’s dime, although, he did have the swagger of an 80’s teen heart throb. But why wouldn’t he. He was insanely wealthy and absurdly gorgeous, but he seemed easy going and considerate too boot. I decided I would overlook the way he toyed with me during my interview since he had returned my bag and unlocked my door for me. That made me laugh out loud, as if he gave two cents about my opinion.
In any case, I vowed to conduct myself more intelligently around him, not like a stammering idiot with zero social skills. It had just been so damned long since I had even noticed a guy because I had lived in a guilt induced, self-imposed isolation throughout college.
The aroma of the fresh brewed coffee filled the suite and I thought it fitting, with all the rich brown and cream tones of the room, it should smell like coffee. With a cup in hand I stood at the massive window, at nearly six a.m. and watched the sun was making its first appearance over the mountain range that outlined my view of the city.
I wondered, somewhat egotistically, if Mr. Flynn had put any thought into picking this room for me. I recalled that during the small talk portion of my interview, I had mentioned that I was an early riser, a habit I had gotten into in college. Working nights and attending classes all day, early morning was the only time I could fit in homework and studying, and it was the best time to find peace and quiet. I especially enjoyed the moment the sun made its first appearance, and rays of multi colored light shot through the clouds.
Even in the solitude of my room, I felt embarrassed for thinking that Connor Flynn had given me that much consideration and scolded myself for giving him that much thought. He was my boss, the man who signed my check, nothing more. In all likelihood, I would probably hardly ever see him in the course of the next six months. I diverted my attention away from all the hard work that awaited me in the not too distant future and focused on the week of play time I had in the present.
Where to start? I wished I had taken notes when Ellis had advised me on all the great things to do and see. The things that were not your typical tourist traps, that was right up my al
ley.
I would be living on the strip. What I wanted to see was ‘Old Vegas’ and of course a day trip to Hoover Dam was a must. I had sat at the desk and fired up my lap top to surf and plan my week, when the tweety bird sound from my new phone signaled a text.
ur wlcm from Connor Flynn.
I stared at the text smiling, taking some kind of weird pleasure imagining that he was sitting in his mansion, drinking coffee, preparing to read the business section of his newspaper, stopped to thumb through his messages and actually took the time to respond to mine, knowing that I would be awake, watching the sunrise from my suite. Yep, narcissistic.
I moved on from my laughable thoughts of grandeur and set about my planning. Neon Museum Boneyard, Pinball Hall of Fame, cheap coin slots and $1.00 margaritas would keep me busy for the day.
First, I had to do something with my hair before it air dried and got completely out of control. I blow dried, flat ironed and brush it within an inch of its life. I opted to leave it down for now and popped a pony tail holder around my wrist that would inevitably end up hoisting my annoying mane off of my neck by noon. A little moisturizer, mineral powder, mascara and lip gloss and I was good to go.
Jaron had forbidden the use of too much makeup and though I had changed almost everything about myself since then, the look suited me so it stuck. I had purchased a few cute short sets at my favorite outlet before I left my familiar surroundings and picked the aqua colored one. The color contrasted nicely with my sun tanned skin and brought out the green in my hazel eyes.
My tweety bird sounded off again. I expected it to be a reminder to pick up my uniforms or maybe my work schedule. Instead-
big week planned?
Small talk from Mr. Flynn. I smiled haughtily. How was I supposed to stop thinking that he was thinking about me, if he kept thinking about me?
today-old Vegas was my response. Insantly, tweet-tweet.
you’ll need a car
I have one I replied, referring to my Bronco. No reply.
The antique replica alarm clock on the nightstand indicated that it was after seven, by the time I found my away into downtown and stopped for breakfast, the places I wanted to visit would be open. I started digging for my small cross body satchel, just big enough for my essentials and retrieved my Arkansas Razorback keychain and Bronco key from the desk.