At five o clock in the morning. Staring at me. Are they in the wrong room? Am I in the wrong room? What the hell?
They look up at me and smile. Then the girl goes back to flipping through the hotel magazine. The one that details the on-site restaurants and amenities and concierge services. Along with nearby attractions and things-not-to-miss. Well, she may be a possible intruder, but at least she will be well informed.
I look at them. They look back at me. The other odd thing, in addition to the fact that they are here in the first place and that it’s five-o-clock-in-the-fucking-morning is that they are both dressed to the nines. Did I mention that it is five o’clock in the morning?
Who dresses like they’re ready to attend high tea at this time of the morning? The woman is thin and tall with straight, long, dark hair and perfect makeup. Ugh.
The guy has curly brown hair and is an inch or two shorter than the woman. They sit on the couch relaxed and killing time like they’re waiting for their names to be called at a salon.
Suddenly, to my utter horror, I realize I’m standing here in the tee shirt and nothing else.
Under their wordless gaze, I suddenly became acutely aware that I’m not wearing a bra. Or panties. Leave it to me to run into well dressed and judgy strangers while trying to make my getaway. I decide to cover my chest with my arms.
That ends up being a tactical error as I forget I’m still holding my clothes in my arms in a clothes ball. I watch in disbelief as my bra falls to the floor.
I look from the floor back up to the strangers’ eyes and try to figure out what to do next. Do I scoop up my bra like I’m embarrassed? Why am I worried about what the well-dressed strangers think? Why aren’t they saying anything?
Right on cue, my panties take that exact moment, while I’m distracted, to squirm out of my grasp and join the bra on the floor. Oh hell. That causes something in my brain to finally snap.
“Who the hell are you people?” I ask.
Now that the ice is broken between us, I wonder if maybe I should kneel down to scoop up my bra and panties. But that’s when they start talking, so I decide to wait.
“Well,” the girl says to the guy on the couch, shrugging, “she’s definitely nicer than the last girl.”
“Better looking too,” he answers.
Now that they are talking like I’m not even in the room, I wish they would shut up. It’s all very confusing. Did they, in fact, know Jellybean?
Still trying to make sense of things, I decide to ignore them and make a play for my bra and panties since the situation feels like it’s starting to spiral out of control.
Carefully, I position myself so that I’m kneeling down in front of the people on the couch. Because I’m quite sure that from behind, everything is visible due to my lack of panties.
The conversation with the strangers is louder than I intend. And of course, the moment I bend over, I hear the door open behind me.
I sigh in frustration. If Jellybean is standing behind me, which I’m pretty sure he is, he’s getting an eyeful right now. This is not how any of this morning was supposed to go down.
I suck in a breath and try to get a handle on my rising anger. This sneak-off could not possibly have gone worse. I’m supposed to be out of here and on my merry way by now. Except, I’m no longer merry.
I see the faces of the couch people swivel toward me, then to Jellybean, and then back to me.
I grab my clothes and stand back up.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Jellybean asks the people on the couch. His voice is angry and growly. It reminds me of why he was so irresistible last night.
The guy on the couch looks up from his phone and stares at something behind me, presumably Jellybean. Then he glances at the girl on the couch next to him. “At least the two of them are on the same page, taking their anger out on us instead of each other in what is an awkward, stressful situation. That’s what you’re supposed to do. At least that’s what my therapist says.”
Did couch stranger just assume that Jellybean and I are a couple? I turn around and shoot Jellybean an annoyed look. The look he’s giving me is far from annoyed, and I know he saw me bend over.
Then Jellybean turns his attention back to the couch people. His green eyes flash hot and he looks like he’s trying to suppress a snarl. “I asked what you two are doing here.”
From context, I guess that he knows them. The frown and care lines that were on his face last night are back with a vengeance, and they have a friend in the vein popping out of his forehead.
Yikes. He looks like he’s going to yell at them. No wait, he looks like he wants to pull out a pistol and challenge them to a duel.
“There’s been a development. On the board,” Couch guy says. “It’s important.”
“And I was just bored,” couch girl chimes in, wearing a grin. “This trip sounded fun. And I have to say, so far it has not disappointed.”
None of this conversation makes any sense to me. That’s a good thing, I remind myself. It means that none of this is any of my business.
The couch people seem to know Jellybean, so all of this is now his problem.
I just want out of here. I’m angry that I didn’t get my sneak-off. But to be fair, the only people who know about last night are a couple more tourists and Jellybean. So what? Maybe, despite it all, I can still get out of
