There wasn’t a day on earth I’d turn down a cool glass of wine. It was my energy source. It fueled my thoughts and my ability to handle any fucking thing on my plate.
Anything.
I ambled toward the front desk. The line for check-in was lengthy. I bypassed those waiting, taking the first available receptionist.
“Excuse m–”
As the words of the impatient fella spilled from his lips, I turned on my heels. With a penetrating gaze, I encouraged him to continue whatever it was he was about to say. Knowing what was best for him, he quieted.
“Good evening,” I greeted the receptionist, placing my bag on the counter.
“Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”
“A girl can’t quite explore this beautiful building with luggage weighing her down. I thought maybe you could hold it for me until I’m ready to depart.”
“Sure. The name?”
I didn’t have one to give. By the time the question had rolled off her tongue, I was near the entrance ofBar Balgaria.
My feet halted at the entrance. Nearly every seat in the house was filled. Because the owner of the hotel was a friend of the family, it brought me great joy to know his establishment was still thriving.
“Welcome to Bar Balgaria. How many tonight?”
I was whisked from my thoughts and brought back into the moment by the lovely host waiting to seat guests. She smelled divine. I turned in her direction, finding a petite, brown-skinned beauty with a sleek bun to the back. I clenched my walls and swallowed back the adoration quickly building in my system for the stranger.
Hmph.
“Just me.”
“Alone, huh?” She asked, “Anywhere in particular you’d like to sit?”
“Never alone,” I clarified, knowing there were eyes on me. There were always eyes on me. “And, save your menus. I’m going to have a seat at the bar.”
She shoved the menus back into the pocket of the podium she was standing in front of.
“Enjoy your evening.”
“You do the same.”
The path was paved for me. Not literally, but figuratively. Bodies moved aside to accommodate my presence. My journey to the bar was seamless, uninterrupted, and quite the breeze.
“Thank you.”
I sat in the chair that had been pulled out for me.
“My pleasure,” responded the nice gentleman who’d just paid his tab and was on his way out of the door. “Hey, Justin.”
“Yeah?” The bartender looked up at him as he typed numbers into the computer.
“Open that tab back up for me. Give this pretty lady anything her heart desires for the night.”
“Sure thing, man.”
“Appreciate you,” the hotel guest called over his shoulder.
I didn’t bother wasting my time telling him he didn’t have to reopen his tab for me, because he understood his role well. He was a provider, a man. And, I was a receiver, a woman. There was no need to complicate things, not even with a stranger.
“What can I get for you?”
