With one eye closed, I glance down, finding myself still in the dress I had on last night. Okay, that’s a good sign.
I look in the other direction, finding an alarm clock blinking. That’s not going to help since I’m pretty sure it’s not midnight by the looks of that burning sun outside. Phone. Where is my phone? I look around the room and spot it on the other side of the king size bed. I feel like a mouse in this thing. I crawl across the sheets and snatch my phone, flipping it over as the display lights up.
No messages. I hope Lea is okay. I shouldn’t have left her. Yes, I should have. She’s marrying Noa. I need to trust him with her. I’m on my own now. I just need to worry about me, and boy did I do a fine job with that last night. At least I’m in bed alone.
Thankfully, it’s only seven, so I have a little time before I need to get downstairs for work. This is kind of nice. No commute. Big bed. I could live like this. Maybe after Lea moves out, I’ll take the hotel’s employment offer of a rent-controlled room here. I’d have to sell the house, though, and I’m not sure I’d be able to do that—get rid of what’s left of Mom and Dad’s life. The years have passed like pages of a book, but the memories are our bookmarks, and if I sell the book, everything inside will be gone too.
I need to let go.
I can’t.
A loud thud against the door scares the crap out of me. “Room service,” a man shouts through the door.
Huh? I don’t order room service. I slide out of bed and fix my dress, so it’s at least covering me correctly, which reminds me—I don’t have my bathing suit or shorts. Shit.
I open the door, finding Amat, head of bellhop services, standing in front of me with a tray. He has a shit-eating grin splashed onto his tanned cheeks, and I’d like to let the door close in his face. “Good morning, Princess Kai.”
“Agh,” I groan.
“A man has sent you breakfast and something else.”
“A man?” I question.
A man. I don’t need to question him. I’m just playing dumb to avoid questions.
“Yes, Kai, the opposite of a woman. A man. May I?”
I open the door wider and allow him inside. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I’ll tip you later.”
“It’s already been taken care of; no worries.”
“Perfect,” I say, feeling a scowl pull at my lips.
“I’d ask you why you were so dressed up for work today, or why you are staying in one of our guest rooms for that matter, but I saw for myself. Thank you for the early morning entertainment.” Amat laughs so hard, he has to hold onto his big belly. “Oh, Kai. One-beer-queer-Kai.”
“Goodbye, Amat,” I seethe.
“See you soon,” he says, jigging out of my room.
I spot the tray of breakfast on the dresser. One dish with a silver cover, a set of silverware, a glass of pineapple juice, a carafe of coffee plus condiments, and a perfect, purple-laced lei that’s quickly filling the room with the pungent scent of plumeria.
My stomach grumbles with hunger at all the scents, and I take the few steps over to the tray, finding a tented note on top of the flowers.
I’m blushing. I haven’t even read a word yet, and I feel my cheeks already burning red.
I open the note, finding neat handwriting, all the letters in capital form.
Kai,
I hope you’re feeling okay this morning. I sent breakfast as a peace offering since I embarrassed you last night, which again, I’m sorry about.
I don’t know you well enough to make a joke about the lei, and if I did make a joke, you’d likely roll your eyes since you were born and raised here. We didn’t get many leis (see … no pun intended) on base, so they’re still new to me. I hope I got the right one. There’s an extra flower for your hair. I noticed you had a white one last night, and you made a white flower look pretty incredible, so I wanted to see what purple might look like. ;)
Hope you like hot cakes as much as you like man buns.
OO
Denver
