Blayne couldn’t tear his gaze away from the windows. He shifted his head back and forth as he tried to watch everything whisking by. On the left, he read a sign for the Jefferson Memorial as they crossed a bridge and headed into the district. On every corner was a sign for a museum or historic landmark. While struggling to absorb everything zipping past, it felt like constant whiplash as he swiveled his focus from one side of the vehicle to the other. Up on the left, he could again see the Washington Monument. Then they pulled into the drop-off area of the Waldorf Astoria. The building looked like it should be in London, with its giant clock tower.
“Welcome to the Waldorf Astoria, Washington, DC,” a valet said as he opened the door to the SUV. “Checking in?”
“Yes,” Hightower said.
“Great. I’ll gladly help you with your luggage,” the valet responded.
“We have about twenty rooms, so you might need some assistance,” Hightower replied.
“Of course, sir.”
Blayne looked at the smile on the valet’s face. In Blayne’s mind, he envisioned an entire conversation concluding with the valet retorting, ‘I think I know how to do my job.’
Thankfully, the valet had a series of bellmen out there quickly, and their luggage was sorted onto various carts and sped away into the hotel.
“Is it always this complicated?” Blayne asked when they finally entered the hotel. Blayne couldn’t help but take in the place’s opulence, everything from the marble flooring to the giant glass ceiling overhead. “Wow, this place is beautiful.”
“That it is,” Ethan replied. “I always love staying here. Wait until you see the rooms.”
The group waited while Rawlins and Hightower checked them into the hotel. A few minutes later, they returned and started handing out cards.
“Ethan and Blayne, you’re staying in the Post Office Suite,” Hightower said, handing them keys. “Everyone is free for the rest of the evening. Just make sure you’re down here at nine a.m. tomorrow. We have the ceremony at the White House at eleven, but they want us there no later than nine-thirty.”
On that note, the group headed to the elevators. Ethan took out his keycard and opened the door to the Post Office Suite. Their bags were already in the room. Blayne pulled out his phone and started sending pictures to Kira. Everything was just so over-the-top. He was living it up as a king. In fact, the one word Blayne could use to describe the suite was ‘regal’. The Romanesque style of interior design, featuring cream-colored walls, royal-blue furnishings and gold accents, exuded elegance. “Wow,” Blayne said, turning to Ethan. “I feel like royalty in here.”
“Well, you are my prince, so I guess it’s fitting,” Ethan said.
“How big is this place?” Blayne asked, taking pictures of the large living area, dining table for eight, separate bedroom and enormous bathroom. “Geez! This bathroom is larger than my dorm room at Tech.”
“This suite is larger than some people’s houses,” Ethan admitted. “I always love it and feel a little uncomfortable in these places. It’s just so gaudy to me. You know, so over-the-top that I always question, ‘Who actually lives like this?’ Then I realize, I do. I don’t think I’ll ever be truly comfortable in a place like this.”
Blayne walked over and enveloped Ethan in his arms before kissing the man. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you grounded.”
“Shall we try out that walk-in shower?” Ethan asked with a grin.
“Time to break in the Post Office Suite,officially,” Blayne said in his best Detox Icunt impersonation.
* * * *
Ethan
Ethan was worn out after making love in the shower, then on the bed then on the dining table. He toweled off from his second shower of the afternoon.
“If we keep this up, we’re going to need more towels,” Blayne joked as he popped Ethan in the ass with his wet towel.
“Ouch!” Ethan yelped as he shot Blayne a glare. “Do that again, and you’re not going near my ass for a week.”
Blayne got a devilish smile and spun the towel as if he was going to flick it at Ethan’s ass again before he broke out into laughter.
“I’m starved,” Ethan said. “I think it’s time to order room service.”
“I can’t believe we’re in DC, and we’re going to order room service. This city has amazing food options, and we’re just too lazy to leave our bedroom.”
“Not lazy, exhausted. Besides, the hotel restaurant is one of the best in the city. People clamor to get reservations downstairs, and we can have them just bring it to us. I call that a win.”
Ethan walked over to the desk and found the leather folio containing the extensive room service menu. Blayne ordered the pan-seared Alaskan halibut, and Ethan ordered the half chicken, roasted. They also ordered the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu.
While they waited, Ethan pulled up his email and went through his business while Blayne lay on the bed reading a book he’d picked up at the airport that morning. A knock sounded on the door.
