“Do you have an envelope and a pen?”
“Uhm. Yes.” Kyle provided both of those things.
Leonidas shoved the spare key into the envelope, sealed it, then scrawled Andy’s name on the front of it and gave everything back to Kyle.
“Can you please make sure Andy gets this?”
“I guess, sure.” Kyle dropped the pen back into a cup and took the envelope slowly, like it might hold a bomb, and Leonidas supposed it did.
“I’ll find my way, then,” Leonidas said, pointing over his shoulder toward the door.
“Oh. Oh, God. How embarrassing. Just go out that way and take the stairs up to the second floor. You have the last room on the left. I can show you if you want.” Kyle’s eye twitched, and Leonidas thought it might have been an awkward wink. He didn’t ask though because he didn’t care. Kyle was nothing.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Leonidas gripped the key in his palm until he felt the jagged edges press into his skin. He adjusted the weight of his pack and followed the directions Kyle had given him. He didn’t see Andy as he made his way to his room, and Andy wasn’t actuallyinhis room, which had been a random and fleeting hope he’d had about halfway up the stairs.
He tossed his bag onto the bed and unzipped it, reaching in carefully to pull out the cluster of t-shirts he’d packed. They were wrinkled and in desperate need of a dryer that he didn’t have, but he peeled them away one by one to find they’d served their purpose.
The bowl he and Andy made was intact.
Leonidas set it on the dresser beside the television, then he sat on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until that very moment, the first time he’d allowed himself to stop moving in days. He leaned over and pulled loose the laces on his boots, then toed them off and lay back, his eyes falling closed, and before he knew it, Leonidas was asleep.
He woke some hours later, and the sky outside his window had turned a rich and vibrant purple hue. A quick look at his watch told him it was nearly eight in the evening. He’d slept for five hours at least, and there was no sign still of Andy.
He was hungry, though, so he sat up and stretched, then stood and shoved off all of his dirty and travel-worn clothes. Leonidas padded barefoot into the tiled bathroom and turned on the taps, stepping into the shower. He reached behind him and pulled the leather tie out of his hair, tossing it beyond the curtain and onto the counter, then he braced himself on the wall of the shower and dropped his head, letting the warm spray rain down the back of his head and neck.
When some of the tension left his shoulders, he straightened and pushed his hair out of his face, pouring a dollop of hotel shampoo into his hand and working his curls into a rich lather. He rinsed himself, then turned off the water, grabbing one of the fluffy, white towels from the rack above the toilet to dry himself off.
Leonidas tied the towel around his waist and went back to the bed, pulling the rest of his clothes out of his duffel and laying them on the bed. He didn’t have anything fancy to wear to make a good impression. He frowned at his jeans and his t-shirts, then grabbed a pair of comfortable lounge pants and pulled them on.
He picked up the phone and called the front desk, hoping it was possible to get room service, but it was late so he wasn’t sure.
“The Lodge at Cherry Creek,” a voice he didn’t recognize answered the phone.
“Yes, hi. I wanted to see if I could get room service?”
“We have an abbreviated menu this late,” the man said. “Basically just a salad or a burger.”
“Do you have wine?”
The man laughed. “Of course.”
“Wine and a salad then,” he said, leaning against the headboard and closing his eyes.
“Dressing?”
“Oil and vinegar.”
“And a glass of…”
“Bottle,” he corrected. “Bottle of merlot if you have a good one.”
“Bottle. Right. We do. It’ll be about fifteen minutes,” the man said. “You’re in room 207?”
“Right.”
“See you then.”
The call disconnected.
