Two loops around the counters and carts was what I made before I put any food on my plate. What the fuck was wrong with me? Couldn't I even make a simple fucking decision about what I wanted for breakfast? Whenever James and I went out to eat, I was able to make decisions. Worried that there was something really wrong with me, I started to sweat. The sweat made me feel cold and like my skin was crawling in the damp clothes.
Was this something left over from being with Sebastian? Or Eli? Neither of them would let me make decisions. James helped me make decisions. My stomach dropped when I thought of James. He always made sure that I had a well-balanced breakfast by giving me choices to make it as such. And we always ate together.
Fuck!
I walked over to the counter where they were making waffles. While I waited for the older couple in front of me to receive their waffles, I checked out all of the side items that were already set out in individual servings. Whipped cream, crushed fruit, chocolate chips, and little silver saucers of syrups and honey waited to be selected. I noticed that the older couple already had these kinds of items on their plates, so I picked up a saucer of maple syrup.
“Good morning, sir,” the waffle maker greeted me as the older couple moved on.
“Morning,” I replied.
“What kind of waffle would you like?”
“Um, plain. Please.”
“Buttermilk?”
“Yes, please,” I answered. The aroma of the waffles was so good that it was driving me insane. I was so hungry. “Two, please,” I requested.
While I waited for my waffles, I turned and looked around to see what else I wanted to pick up on my way back to the table. I was thinking about what options James would have given me to make sure my breakfast gave me a good start to the day. Bacon, yes. Toast, yes. Fruit, yes. By the time the chef placed the two warm waffles on my plate, I had my route mapped out before I got back to the table.
With the bacon and toast stacked on top of the waffles, I grabbed a banana and headed back to my table. A glass of water and a goblet of orange juice waited for me.
As I ate alone, I couldn’t help but reminisce about all of the breakfasts James and I would have together. I would make us something warm while he got ready for work. He’d come into the kitchen and talk to me while he made us coffee. Every now and then he’d playfully swat my ass or slide his hand down the waistband of my lounge pants. After a while, eating with him hadn’t made me nervous. He would eat at a slow pace so I didn’t feel bad for being slow.
I reached for my cloth napkin and ran my fingers along the fabric over the places near my mouth that used to be wounds. Since James helped me take good care of them, the old piercings were nothing more than tiny light marks.
When I finished my meal, I turned around to see if there were many people by the dessert cart. I remembered seeing some mini muffins and slices of coffee cake and thought I had room for them. As I was about to reach for the blueberry muffins, I spotted chocolate chip ones. They were the mini ones, so I grabbed three. Even though I probably could have eaten them in one bite, I remembered my surroundings and made them two bite muffins.
“Can I offer you something else to drink?” my server asked me when he came by my table.
“Just another glass of juice please. Oh, can I trouble you for the time please?”
“Of course, sir. It’s almost 8:30. I’ll be right back with your juice.”
Shit. It was only 8:30. Most of the stores didn’t open until 10:00, or possibly even 11:00 since it was Sunday. I had a lot of time to kill. Slowly, I sipped my juice and then decided to go back to my room and watch some TV until about 9:45.
In the elevator lobby, there were a lot of older couples chatting while waiting for the elevator. There were only two elevators, and by looks of the illuminated display above the doors, both of them were on their way down. When the doors opened to one, people emptied before all of the couples waiting piled in. I waved them on and told them I’d grab the next one. It was only on the third floor, and I had tons of time to kill.
Finally, the elevator for me arrived. While I waited for the people inside to exit, one of the older ladies’ heavy floral perfume got caught in my senses as she meandered by. As soon as the elevator was empty, I walked in. I coughed when I noticed the elevator wreaked of the floral shit. I pressed the button for the thirty-second floor and then leaned against the elevator wall and looked downward as another man entered the elevator.
5
James
I stopped dryingmyself off from the quick shower and listened carefully.Was that his cell phone?My cell phone sat beside Brandon’s on the bathroom counter. I wrapped the towel around my waist as I stepped out of the shower. Quickly, I picked Brandon’s up when I saw that the screen was lit up.
“Two-hundred dollar ATM withdrawal at The Ritz-Carlton Los Angeles,” I said under my breath as I read the text notification.
I logged into my banking app and checked the recent transactions. Shortly after Brandon got his driver’s license, I obtained an authorized user card for him because I didn’t want him to be without. He had never used it, though, and according to my bank app, he still hadn’t.
So why was his phone getting a notification about an ATM withdrawal at The Ritz?
Glitches happened often, but I wasn’t about to casually dismiss this as a technical malfunction. I threw on some black pants, a white button-down shirt, and shoes. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed my car fob, and hurried to the garage. I started the engine as I climbed behind the driver's seat. I set Brandon’s phone next to mine on the passenger seat and drove downtown to The Ritz-Carlton.
My mind raced with questions. No matter how many times I went over the questions, I didn’t have an answer to them.
How did he get downtown? Had he walked? Brandon wasn’t the type to get into a cab. He was too wary of people still. The thought of him in a cab around a basic stranger didn’t sit well with me. Though, I liked the idea of him in a cab as opposed to walking to downtown L.A.
