by Perez, Nina
The clerk, a middle-aged woman with a pointy nose and serious receding hairline, pinched her lips together like she’d tasted something sour. “Fans aren’t permitted to loiter in the lobby. You’ll have to wait outside with the rest.” She cast a disapproving glance at a small circle of girls standing around outside the hotel. They were dressed like they were waiting to get into a nightclub.
“Oh, I’m not a groupie fan person. I told you, I’m his girlfriend and I just flew in to surprise him.”
She had the nerve to rise up on her toes and peer over the counter to see if I had luggage.
“Okay, how about this? Can I have a room?”
She sniffed and pressed a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her. “We have a single available.”
“I’ll take it.” I was reaching into my bag for my wallet when she told me the cost per night.
As I slid my credit card across the counter, it wept.
Chapter Ten
Before Forever
Chloe
The hotel room was, hands down, the nicest one I’d ever been in. I kicked off my heels and my toes rejoiced as they sank into the lush carpet. Once my body hit the bed I considered calling it a night, right there in my cocktail dress. But since I still didn’t know where Patrick was, that wasn’t an option. I had a brief moment of panic when I considered that he could have already flown home. The clerk had said he wasn’t answering his phone, not that he had checked out. She definitely made it sound like he was still a guest. She was a bit of witch, but surely she wouldn’t have let me book a room knowing he wasn’t here. Would she?
If she thinks you’re a crazy groupie, she just might do that to you, Chloe.
If I couldn’t reach Patrick, I needed to speak to someone who could at least confirm he was still in Los Angeles. His agent was in New York, but that didn’t matter because I didn’t have her number. There was no way I would call his parents this late. The only person whose number I had, who would definitely know if Patrick was still in town, was the last person I ever wanted to talk to again. I retrieved my cell phone and noticed the battery was getting low. At least it wouldn’t be a long call, I reasoned, then pressed the name in my contacts list.
Kelly Kennedy answered on the second ring. “Helloooo?” There was loud music and chatter in the background.
“Hi Kelly, it’s Chloe. I was wondering if you’d seen Patrick. I haven’t been able to reach him.”
She giggled loudly. “Hold on.” There was movement and then the sound of a door opening and closing. When she got back on the line the background noise was considerably dimmer. “Are we really going to do this?”
“Do what, Kelly?” I was ready to kick my own ass for calling this woman.
“Don’t play games. You want to gloat. You want me to apologize. I’ll make it easy for you. Yes, I’m sorry I tried to fuck your boyfriend and he was too much of a loser to take advantage. If he thinks you’re gonna look better on his arm, help his career… well, good luck with that.”
She was obviously drunk and itching for a fight. Even though she was being six shades of trifling at the moment, I refused to give her one iota of satisfaction. She’d tried to sleep with Patrick and he shot her down. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
“So, Kelly, is that a no? You don’t know where Patrick is?” I smirked. She would not have me go off on her. There was nothing to gain from that. I’d already won.
“Oh, he’s here at the party. Don’t worry; Mr. Wet Blanket will be back in your arms in a few days. You’re welcome to him.”
And then she hung up.
I still didn’t know why Patrick wasn’t answering his phone, but at least I knew he was in town and he’d be coming back to the hotel. I’d left him messages. He’d call me when he could and then I could surprise him.
***
I awoke the next morning with no idea where I was or why I was naked. Then it came back to me. I took a shower under a showerhead that felt like being massaged by the hands of tiny angels and then passed out completely naked. I couldn’t keep that dress or underwear on another moment.
I checked my phone and noticed a voicemail from Patrick. I’d slept right through his call.
Hey, it’s me. Are you okay? I got your messages and now I’m worried. Call me back before I call your whole family and make a fool of myself. I’m going to the gym in the morning, but then I’m free all day. He paused. Okay. I... okay. Talk to you later.
My heart broke. The uncertainty in his voice killed me. I’d done that, and I was going to fix it. But I couldn’t do anything naked. I brushed my teeth and cringed as I slipped back into last night’s dress. I did a Google search and found a nearby shopping center with a Target Superstore. This was perfect because I knew it would have a pharmacy. It wasn’t where I usually shopped for clothes, but it would have to do. Considering how much I’d already spent on this impromptu trip, I wasn’t in any position to be hitting up Rodeo Drive.
I quickly walked across the lobby, hoping I didn’t look like a hooker leaving a job. Thankfully there was a different clerk on duty at the registration desk. There was a line of taxis waiting in the circular drive outside the main entrance. I got in one and asked to be taken to the shopping center.
Two hours later I was back in my room sorting through my purchases: a few sundresses, three bra and panty sets, sandals, flip-flops, more toiletries, and a travel bag I could use as a carry-on for the trip home. I took another shower and changed into fresh underwear, one of my new dresses, and the sandals. Then I called Patrick.
“Hey! Chloe, what is going on? Is everything okay?” I cringed at the panic in his voice.
“I’m fine. Where are you?”
“Just leaving the hotel gym. Where are you?”
I grabbed my key card and left the room. Dodging his question, I asked, “Have a good workout?”
“What? Yeah. I got your message about… us. Did you mean what you said?”
I reached the elevators and pressed the call button. “Yes, I meant every word.”
“Chloe, I can’t wait to come—”
The elevator doors chimed, then opened, and Patrick and I were standing face-to-face, both holding cell phones to our faces, both in shock. He looked from the phone to me, confused. The door started to close again and we both reached out at the same time to stop them. I laughed as he stepped into the hall, mouth wide open, and took my hand.
“What? Are you here? I mean... what are you doing here?”
“Surprising you. Surprise!” I disconnected our call. “We won’t be needing these.”
“Come here.” He pulled me into a hug. He was in a tee shirt and shorts and covered in sweat. I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and squeezed him back. When we broke apart, he still looked like he didn’t believe I was there.
“Did you just try my room?” He gestured down the hall.
“No, I just left my room. I didn’t even know you were on this floor.”
“Your room? How long have you been here?”
“Since last night. They wouldn’t tell me which room you were in and you weren’t answering the phone. I couldn’t even wait in the lobby because the clerk thought I was a groupie or something. By the way, that’s kind of creepy.”
He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Yeah. They kinda camp out hoping to get autographs, pictures, and, um, other stuff. Come on, let’s go to my room.” As we walked down the hall, hand in hand, he explained that he’d left his cell phone in his room and didn’t have it on him at the cast party he’d attended the night before.
“Then I woke up to these drunk texts from Kelly telling me to keep my girlfriend from calling her.” We stopped at a set of double doors at the far end of the hall, just a few rooms down from my own. Patrick reached into his shorts pocket and retrieved his room key. Moments later we entered a suite that made my room look like it was in a roadside motel.
“Wow. I thought my room was nice.” I looked around appreciatively.
&
nbsp; “I can’t believe… hold on. What room are you in?” I told him and watched as he went to the desk phone and pressed a button. “Hi, this is Patrick Murphy in suite eight eighteen. Well, actually no, everything’s not to my satisfaction. My girlfriend tried to get in to see me and was turned away. I don’t appreciate the way she was treated. She reserved room eight-twelve. I’d like her belongings moved to my suite right away.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, Ms. Brooks would appreciate a refund. Thank you.”
“Man, becoming a movie star has also made you kind of a dick.” I nodded. “I think I like it.”
“Oh, stop it.” He walked over and took me in his arms. He leaned in for a kiss, but stopped.
“It’s okay. You can kiss me.” And he did. His lips were salty from sweat, but his tongue tasted of toothpaste. He held my face in his hands and pulled away, his eyes still closed.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He opened his eyes and kissed me on the tip of my nose.
“Patrick, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in us. I’m sorry I pushed you away and ignored your calls. I don’t care if your mother ever changes her mind, but I’m willing to do whatever I can to see that she does. But if she doesn’t, I don’t care. I love you. And nothing is going to change that. Ever. And I’m babbling.”
He shook his head. “I was an idiot. I will never make you feel disrespected, or ask you to be hidden, or lie about what you mean to me. To anyone. I am sorry. And my mother will get on board. I promise you.”
We stood there, holding each other, kissing, and I could tell he was still having a hard time believing I was there. “Would you like to pinch me?” I asked.
“I’m going to do a lot more than you pinch you.” He kissed me quickly and then asked, “When is your flight home? I fly out day after tomorrow, but… I was making a stop. I had plans, but I guess now I have to do them a little backwards.”
“What are you talking about? And I don’t have a flight home. I didn’t think that far ahead, actually.”
“Then let me take care of that. I’ll take care of everything. But first I need to shower.”
“Yeah, you do.”
He smacked me on the butt, kissed me again, and headed for the bathroom. While he was showering a bellman brought my belongings from my room and refused the tip I tried to give him. I felt bad. The woman was just doing her job—although, the refund on my credit card was pretty damn sweet.
Patrick came out of the bathroom completely naked, drying his hair with a towel. I grabbed the towel from him and took over the task. I asked, “You came out here like that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Maybe I did. What are you going to do about it?”
“We still have to talk about something.”
He leaned down and placed his mouth on my right breast through the thin fabric of the dress. Within seconds I felt my nipple harden. Every inch of me was screaming, talk later!
“We can talk later,” I said breathlessly.
Patrick picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me to the bedroom and placed me on the bed. He stood over me, completely naked, beautiful and strong. “Or we can talk tomorrow.” He grinned and climbed on top of me.
Through urgent kisses and exploring hands, my clothes found their way to the floor. When I could no longer stand it, I demanded, “I want you inside of me. Now.” He obliged, pushing into me while kissing me hard.
He slowed his strokes to make it last longer, looking me in the eyes and telling me how much he loved me. Then he rose up, supporting his weight on his arms with his hands placed on either side of me. He pulled out of me, almost completely, and then pushed back in all the way. He did this several times, teasing me. When he finally stopped, he stilled deep inside of me.
“Please,” I whispered. I was so close, and all I wanted at that moment was to feel him moving into me and as hard and fast as he could.
“Please what?” he growled.
I felt free to be as honest and dirty as I wanted to be. “Please fuck me.” He smiled, pulled out partway, and then plunged deeper. I gasped, but he still refused to move.
“You really are a dick.” I said. I raised my hips, propped myself up on my elbows, and moved my hips, pushing into him and then pulling back before pushing again. I tightened and released my muscles until he groaned.
“Fine, woman. You win.”
***
The next morning I awoke naked again, and sore. I watched Patrick sleep for a few minutes. His dark hair was a bit longer than the last time I’d seen him in New York. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed him on the forehead. He didn’t even stir. I quietly retrieved one of my bags from the living room and went to the bathroom. When I was done I put all evidence back in the plastic bag and stuffed it into the carry-on I’d purchased.
When I entered the bedroom, Patrick was awake. He held out a hand to me and I took it, climbing into bed next to him. We kissed.
“I have to get ready for this interview. It’s downstairs in the hotel restaurant. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. Will you order room service while I shower?”
“Sure,” I said. “What do you want?”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, yawned, and rolled his neck. “Just tell them the room number and ask for the usual breakfast, then tell them whatever you want.” I crawled over to him, sitting on my knees behind him, and kissed his back. “If you start, you better be willing to finish, cause I’ll miss this interview to make sure you do.”
I giggled, sat on my bottom, spread my legs and placed a foot on his back, giving him a gentle nudge. “Go get ready. I’ll order breakfast.”
I called in the order and then called Jules to let her know I’d be taking a few personal days. I instructed her to reschedule all of my meetings and only call if there was an emergency. I’d left my laptop in New York so I wouldn’t be able to work even if I wanted to, and I didn’t. I sent texts to Crystal, Myra, and my mom, letting them know I was in Los Angeles with Patrick and that I was okay.
Their responses were, in order:
Girl, get your life!
You better make him take you shopping.
So, you’re where you belong. Have a good time. xoxo
When Patrick entered the living room wearing a hotel robe, freshly showered and shaven, he found me surrounded by several covered dishes courtesy of room service. “Damn. What did you get?”
As it turned out, Patrick’s usual breakfast was an omelet loaded with veggies, two slices of whole wheat toast with light butter, coffee, and orange juice. I pointed at the additional plates as I answered, “An egg white omelet with veggies and cheese, a waffle with syrup and fresh strawberries, a chocolate croissant, fruit salad, and orange juice. What? I’m starving.”
He raised an eyebrow and said, “Apparently.”
We ate at the dining table. I could only manage a few bites of the omelet, a forkful of waffle, and two strawberries before I thought I was going to be sick. “Do you want me to call and have them bring up something else? It looks like you ordered the whole breakfast menu as it is, but I’m sure they have something left. Maybe.”
“Funny. No. I think I just need to lie down. Go do your interview. I’ll be here.” I kissed him softly and headed for the bedroom, looking forward to all the good sleep I was about to have.
***
“You sure you’re up for this?”
“Patrick, for the third and last time, I’ll be fine.”
We’d just enjoyed a beautiful dinner at a beachside restaurant that served the most expensive meals I’d ever seen. Everything we’d had was delicious but, by the time the dessert cart was brought to our table, I felt like everything I’d eaten was going to try and make an escape. Patrick had mentioned he’d like to head down to the beach after dinner and watch the sun set. We were just kicking off our shoes to step into the sand.
“It’s just you look a little…” He let the thought hang there.
“Smart
man. That’s why I love you.” I took his hand and we headed for the water.
When the sun began to dip into the horizon, we found a spot to sit and watched it disappear. There were others along the coastline enjoying the same view, but not so many that we didn’t have a bit of privacy. Patrick removed his suit jacket and set it on the sand. “Here you can sit on this.” I tucked my skirt between my legs and took the offered seat.
“Did you make the flight reservations?” I asked, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Um, yeah. We should probably talk about that.”
I groaned and lifted my head to look at him. “You weren’t able to get me on your flight?”
“No. I mean, yes. I did. That wasn’t the issue. It’s just that I wasn’t flying directly home. I was making a stop first.”