Accidental Surprises

by Tia Wylder

  “Just think,” I said, trying to sound braver than I really felt. “If I die, you’ll be like, totally famous as the roommate of the idiot who died trying to catch Franchot.”

  Lisa bit her lip. “I know I can’t stop you,” she said softly.

  “Nope.” I tried to smile, but it was impossible.

  “So, please, Adele, just be careful,” Lisa said. She sighed. “Promise me.”

  “I will,” I said. “I promise.”

  We stood there for a moment, looking awkwardly at each other before I grabbed my parka and snow boots. Lisa watched me getting ready without speaking. It was one of the tensest times we’d ever shared.

  When I was finally ready to leave, I made my way downstairs. There was a long black car idling in front of the building. As I approached, a uniformed chauffeur leaped out of the driver’s seat and took my bags.

  “Miss Adele?”

  I nodded.

  “Please, come with me.”

  The driver opened the backseat and helped me inside before stowing my bags in the trunk. Just as Barnes had promised, there were bags in the back, loaded with water and food and emergency supplies. I bit my lip as the chauffeur climbed back into the front seat and pulled away from my building. It occurred that I could still back out, but as the words formed in my mouth, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to say them.

  I was going to Nassau to save Jack, no matter what.

  Barnes’s chauffeur drove through the night and the next day. We stopped periodically for silent, tense meals in fast-food restaurants. He was always perfectly polite, but I never felt comfortable at the sight of his brass-buttoned uniform.

  As we made our way further south, the air began to change. The chill lifted and I could see the first signs of the approaching storm. By the time we made it to Florida, almost twenty-one hours later, I was terrified. The skies were grey and cloudy and filled with angry clouds.

  “Where to, miss?”

  I swallowed nervously. “Find a charter boat company,” I said. “And then I’m going to Nassau.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jack

  The first night, I broke into a hotel room and spent the night shivering in bed. The windows, miraculously, didn’t break in the rage of the storm, but the power was gone, and I knew that it likely wouldn’t be restored for days. I foraged for food as best I could in the kitchens and wound up opening an industrial-sized tub of peanut butter and eating it with my fingers.

  I felt pathetic. I’d come here on a false whim, and now I was likely going to die because I’d been an idiot.

  By the third day, the storm was getting worse. I watched as five-foot waves gradually turned into ten-foot and even fifteen-foot waves. Just looking out the window made me shiver. And I was terrified of leaving the Hotel St. Charles. I’d gotten lost in the Nassau wilderness once before, and I was determined not to let it happen again. Not when I still had my own skin to save.

  I was foraging for more food in the kitchens and trying to decide whether or not I should break into the freezer when I heard the sound of footsteps. My heart leaped into my throat, and I whirled around.

  “Rico!” I yelled. “Is that you?”

  There was no reply, but the footsteps grew louder. I started to panic – what the hell would I do if it was Rico, and he was grievously injured?

  “Rico,” I called again. “It’s me, Jack! I’m in here!”

  I dropped the giant tub of mayonnaise that I was holding and darted out of the kitchens, into the main restaurant. But it wasn’t Rico I saw standing there.

  It was Adele.

  She was soaked to the bone and shivering. Her dark brown hair was plastered wetly to the side of her face and her skin was deathly white. For a moment, I wondered whether I was going crazy. Was Adele really here, standing in front of me, or was I losing my mind?

  “Adele?”

  Adele staggered forward. Her eyes looked haunted and glazed over, and she was shaking in her soaked shoes. Before I could step any closer, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she crumpled to the floor.

  “Adele!”

  Jumping forward, I caught her in my arms just before her head made contact with the soaked carpet. Adele was shivering uncontrollably, and her lips were blue. I carried her out of the restaurant as fast as I could, running up the stairs to my hotel room. Without looking at her body, I stripped her clothes away and wrapped her tightly in the sheets of my bed, pulling the duvet over her head and snuggling her into the mattress. Adele was still shivering, but after a few minutes, the worst of the tremors subsided. I didn’t take my eyes away from her as I held her firmly in bed, rubbing her arms and legs under the sheet in a desperate attempt to help her circulation.

  After what felt like hours, Adele slowly opened her eyes. I handed her a glass of water and held her head up as she drank greedily, water dribbling down her chin. When she saw me, she closed her eyes again and took a deep breath.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I have no idea how you got here, but you’re safe.”

  Adele’s eyelids fluttered open. I could tell she was struggling to focus on me.

  “I…”

  “Don’t talk,” I said. “Save your strength – god knows we’re both going to need it.”

  Adele nodded. She rested her head against my arm, and I felt a powerful surge of affection for her. It was crazy – here we were, trapped in Nassau, and all I could do was think about how lucky I was that Adele was still alive.

  Adele dozed off in my arms. After I made sure that her breathing was regular and normal, I stripped off my pants and shirt and climbed into bed. There was an extra duvet I’d taken from the next room, and I draped it over the two of us, snuggling close to Adele through the layers of blankets. I hadn’t realized it, but I was exhausted. As Adele began to snore softly, I found myself drifting off to sleep.

  When I woke up, Adele was gone. I jumped up and gazed around wildly before spotting her. She was standing next to the window. Darkness was falling, and the hotel room was dim and poorly lit. Adele was standing with the duvet wrapped around her petite frame, shivering as she stared out at the storm.

  “What is it?”

  At the sound of my voice, Adele turned around. Her green eyes were solemn and scared.

  “It’s really happening,” she said hoarsely.

  I got to my feet and handed her the cup of water. “Drink,” I said.

  Adele looked down at the cup in her hands. “Is it safe?”

  “Yeah. I broke into the pantry – it’s from a bottle.”

  Adele nodded. She licked her dry lips and took a long swig of water, drinking until the glass was nearly empty. Then she walked over to the bed and sat down, evidently too exhausted to speak.

  “How did you get here?”

  Adele sighed. “Barnes’s chauffeur drove me from Boston to Miami,” she said in a soft voice.

  I sat down next to her and put my hand on her shoulder. I wasn’t sure whether or not to pull her close, but then Adele leaned into my body and rested her head on my shoulder.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Adele said. She bit her lip. “Barnes came to me and told me you were in trouble.” She swallowed. “And he told me that Franchot was here, too, and that if I didn’t come and save you, it would be missing my last chance to take him out.”

  “Holy shit,” I muttered.

  “Yeah,” Adele repeated. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her arm. “And I got a charter boat out of Miami, but we almost sank. Jack, it was so awful.” Now there was fear – real fear – creeping into her feeble voice and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close.

  “What happened to the boat?”

  Adele shook her head. Her hair was dry and frizzy, and she reached up and twisted it into a knot with one hand before sighing.

  “I don’t know. The waves were so awful, I slipped and fell when the boat jerked to the side. I must’ve hit my head.” Adele winced and reached up to her forehead. I not
iced for the first time that there was a large goose-egg at her temple.

  “Oh my god,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Adele said softly. She laughed bitterly. “Barnes sent me down here with everything. Bags and suitcases and rations and medical supplies. And it all got lost. I woke up on the beach, and realized I’d made it to the hotel.” She shivered and pulled the duvet tighter around her small frame.

  “Barnes…” I trailed off. “And did he come?”

  Adele shook her head. “No. But he was very afraid for you,” she said quietly. “I know he was concerned. I just hope his chauffeur is okay – he stayed in Miami.”

  “We have to get out of here,” I said. I walked over to the bureau where I’d stashed a few Hotel St. Charles polo shirts and shorts that I’d stolen from the gift shop. I handed a shirt and a pair of golf shorts to Adele.

  To my surprise, Adele snickered. “If anyone sees us, this is going to be some bad publicity for the hotel,” she said. She pulled the duvet off and pulled the polo shirt over her head quickly before I could catch a glimpse of her breasts. The shirt was too big for her, but she knotted it at the waist and buttoned the golf shorts over her flat, taut belly.

  “Thanks,” Adele said. I couldn’t be sure in the dim light of the room, but it almost looked like she was blushing. I handed her a pair of Hotel St. Charles flip-flops – the only shoes I’d found when I’d ransacked the gift shop for food – and she slipped them onto her feet, glancing down at her bare toes.

  “You must be hungry,” I said.

  Adele nodded. The features of her face were fine and pointed, and I realized that she’d likely lost a tremendous amount of water weight in her ordeal.

  “I broke into the kitchens yesterday, but I’m going to need help,” I said.

  Adele got to her feet and wiped her hands on her thighs. I could tell she was exhausted, but before we slept again, I wanted to make sure that we’d both had something to eat. I led her out of my room without even bothering to shut the door. We made our way down the back stairs and into the restaurant. The hotel was almost completely dark now, and I gripped the flashlight I’d found behind the concierge desk tightly in one hand.

  When I felt Adele’s fingers slipping against mine, I barely thought of it. Then I squeezed her hand.

  “It’s not much longer,” I said. “Just a few more steps.”

  The wind outside was whipping and howling so loudly that I could hardly hear myself think as I led Adele into the kitchens. The two pantries were at the back of the large set of rooms, and I led Adele towards the locked doors.

  “There’s meat and everything in there, I bet,” I said. The thought of a cheeseburger was enough to bring me to my knees.

  “How long has the power been out?” Adele blinked. “We don’t want to get sick.”

  “It’s all frozen.”

  I had Adele hold the flashlight while I searched through the kitchens for a spare key to the pantries. When I was unable to find one, I took a deep breath and charged at the door before kicking the lock with all of my might. It barely budged.

  “Jack, you’re not going to be able to open that,” Adele said in a disapproving voice. “It’s too thick.”

  “Well, help me find a key, then,” I said in exasperation. “We have to eat something.”

  Adele rolled her eyes. “Stay here,” she said. She gripped the flashlight in one hand and walked away. I could barely hear the patter of her feet on the floor by the time she stopped. I heard a drawer being pulled open, then the clatter of utensils as Adele rummaged.

  “I don’t think you’re going to find a key in there,” I called loudly.

  Adele ignored me.

  “I may as well try to push the door open again,” I said, eyeing the thick pantry lock. “Bring the flashlight back over here.”

  There was no answer. I could feel my frustration with Adele rising, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on,” I called. “You’re not going to find the key. Just bring the light back and let me try a couple of times – then we can check the front desk for spares.”

  Adele finally walked back over, grinning triumphantly. She handed me the flashlight and stepped closer to the locked door.

  “What?” I asked warily. “Did you find the key?”

  Adele shook her head but didn’t answer. “Hold the light,” she said. “Right here.”

  “Why? If you didn’t find the key, we’re wasting our time – not to mention the batteries of the flashlight,” I said.

  “God, Jack, just shut up for a minute, would you?” Adele cocked her head to the side and gave me an annoying smile.

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

  Adele leaned closer to the lock with something clenched between her teeth. That was when I saw the reflection of a shiny knife blade. Adele held the handle of the knife to the lock, sliding the edge of the blade inside and twisting it from one side to the other with a careful, practiced motion. She gritted her teeth and leaned closer, gently pushing from her shoulder and methodically twisting her wrist.

  There was a small click! and the lock sprang open before dropping to the floor.

  Adele turned to me with her hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow.

  “See,” she said, her voice filled with triumph. “You didn’t need to bash your head in after all.”

  “You can stop gloating,” I muttered under my breath. “Come on.”

  I pushed open the pantry door, dropping the chain to the floor. Adele followed close behind me as I shone the flashlight over the different shelves. Just as I’d expected, the shelves were fully stocked. Canned fruits and vegetables, uncooked pasta, tons of bread and rolls and muffins.

  Adele’s eyes went wide, and she grabbed a pack of bagels, ripping the plastic open and cramming a bagel in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed.

  “God, I needed carbs,” Adele moaned, swallowing and taking another huge bite. She offered the pack to me, but I shook my head.

  “We should make an inventory of what we have and conserve it,” I said firmly. “There’s no need to go crazy.”

  Adele narrowed her eyes and set the pack of bagels down on a large chef’s table. “Why? That’s pointless – the storm isn’t going to last forever, and we shouldn’t be starving ourselves,” she argued.

  “But we don’t know how long we’re going to be here,” I argued. “It could be weeks!”

  Adele grabbed the flashlight from my hand and spun around in a slow circle, illuminating the huge supply of food.

  “There’s no way we’re going to run out,” she said crossly, handing me the light and reaching for another bagel. “And we need to keep ourselves nourished. Starving yourself won’t do anything to help that – you’ll just feel sluggish and worse and sick.”

  “But we shouldn’t eat more than we know we can spare,” I said angrily. “And I’m not going to let you eat the entire pantry!”

  “Jack, in case you didn’t notice, there’s another pantry,” Adele said. She crammed the last of her second bagel in her mouth and stared at me as she chewed.

  “You're such a brat right now,” I hissed. I stalked forward and looked over the shelves. There was everything I could have imagined: ketchup, every kind of canned bean, pickles, mustard, relish. It was nothing like the meager store in the kitchens, where I’d only found a few stale loaves of bread and the big jar of peanut butter.

  “See,” Adele said, stepping forward with a smirk. She took a jar of pickles off the wall shelf and twisted it open with her hands before eating a few slices. Adele handed the jar to me. “Pickle?”

  “No, thanks,” I said darkly. “I’m going to look over here.”

  Adele and I spent the next couple of hours combing through the storage. There was a walk-in freezer, too, which had obviously stopped working…but I did find several huge pieces of meat that were still thoroughly frozen. Between the two of us, we scavenged enough food for what would be the first decent meal I’d have had since before leaving.<
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  Thankfully, the large gas range in one of the kitchens was still working. Adele thawed a package of hot dogs as I opened a few cans of baked beans and creamed corn. By the time we sat down, I was starting to feel better. The prospect of real food was looming in front of me, and I’d realized that Adele was probably right. Even with our large picnic spread, there was no way we were going to even go through half of the food.

  “Here,” Adele said as she sat down and handed me a hot dog. It was on a fancy china plate embossed with “Hotel St. Charles” and I laughed at the juxtaposition as I stared down at my food.