I'm not saying that I'd forgive Derek if it weren't for Morgan, but I'd probably still be with him. A part of me still wants to be, and that's what scares me. If I were to see him again I'm honestly not sure how I would react. How could the man you love the most in the world, also be the one who hurt you the most? Love was a fickle thing, and from this point on I promised myself that I was done with it.
I was going to live my life as a single woman. Morgan and I were going to rock the opening of Sew New, and then I'd buy myself a gorgeous house. When I knew that I was financially set, I'd look into adoption or in vitro fertilization. No more love, no more messy break ups. Just me, living my best life. Oprah didn't need a husband, and neither did I.
“You do know that Oprah has Stedman though, right?”
“What?” I asked, focusing on the road.
“You think aloud a lot. Most of the time it comes out as little mumbles, but I've learned to interpret them pretty well.”
I blushed. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Clearly.”
“What's the name of the hotel we're staying at?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Courtyard Lynchburg, it's a Marriott Chain.”
“Any fun facts about Lynchburg?” I teased.
“Go ahead and laugh, but there's a little shop called Gladiola Girls, that the locals rave about. But what I'm really excited to show you is Speakertree Records. I know how much you love your vinyl collection, and I've heard such great things.”
“Wow! I'm really impressed, and touched that you'd think of me.”
“Of course I'd think of you, you're my best friend.” She scoffed.
That right there, is why I loved Morgan Astor. She may seem like a self absorbed rich girl on the outside, but she has depth too. A depth that she doesn't normally show to anyone else, but it's there. I smiled to myself at the thought. Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad after all.
AFTER FINDING A PARKING space at our hotel, the two of us made our way into the front lobby. The entry way was absolutely gorgeous. The ceilings were vaulted, and there was actual marble on the floors. There were laptop computers sitting open on desks, and I could see the entrance to the gym off to the right.
As we approached the desk, Morgan gave the woman sitting behind it her signature smile.
“We have a reservation under Astor.” She said, adjusting her sunglasses on her head.
“Of course, Miss Astor.” She said, clacking away on her keyboard. “We have you, and a Miss Veronica Locke booked for a six night, seven day stay. Is this correct?”
“It is.”
“Wonderful! I'll just need the credit card you used to confirm.”
Morgan pulled her wallet from her purse, and dug around for the black card that I was all too familiar with. She smiled politely, before passing it to the woman, and waiting. After a few minutes the woman frowned.
“I'm sorry, Miss Astor. There seems to be a problem with this card.”
“That's impossible.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It's a black card.”
“I can see that.” She said, turning it over in her hand. “But it doesn't seem to be working.”
“Not the color, you imbecile!” Morgan snapped. “It's a black card. As in, it has no limit!”
The woman blinked rapidly. “Oh. I uh. I see. Let me just get my manager for you.”
“You do that... Beverly.” She said, in a menacing tone as she squinted to read the woman's name tag.
“Was that really necessary?” I asked, as Beverly scrambled away.
Morgan rolled her eyes. “It's probably the card reader.”
A few seconds later, an attractive older man came out from what I assumed was his office. He approached the desk, and extended his hand towards Morgan.
“I'm sorry for Beverly's ignorance, Miss Astor. It appears your father has already paid for the rooms in advance with a separate card.”
Morgan stood a little taller. “Of course he has. Daddy's always trying to help when he can.” She smiled sweetly, her angry demeanor suddenly gone.
“Please, allow my son to help you with your luggage.”
“It's in the old pick up parked around back.” She said, extending her hand. “We'll take our room keys now.”
“Of course, Miss Astor.”
With a few clicks of the mouse, the manager had as all checked in, and escorted us personally to our rooms. We were on the ground floor, and our connecting suites had shared access to an outdoor patio complete with lounge chairs, a hot tub, and even a small fire pit. Normally I wasn't too crazy about Morgan tossing money around, but I had to admit that I wouldn't mind living here for the next week.
Even though our rooms were adjoining, they each had their own character. Mine had a queen size bed, with a love seat at the end of it. The television was mounted on the wall, and beneath it was a large oak dresser. A small microwave, mini fridge, and a coffee pot sat on top of it, along with fresh ground coffee, sugar, and creamer.
When I walked towards the bathroom, I was blown away at the shear size of the shower. It had benches on the inside, and could easily fit four people. The garden tub beside it was just as impressive, and if I wasn't such a clean freak I probably would have found myself using it.
The door between our rooms opened then, and Morgan walked through as if she owned the place.
“Did I deliver, or what?” She asked, doing a little spin around the
