Then my grip tightens as my stomach flips.
‘Wait. I booked a hotel?’
Alice stops what she’s doing, staring at me.
‘Yes.’
‘In Athens.’
‘Yes.’
‘I booked a hotel in Athens?’
Alice’s mouth drops.
The girl on the phone mutters something in Greek and I’m sure it’s not kind. ‘If you don’t want an upgrade be my guest. Or don’t. Because someone else will have it and you won’t have a place to stay.’
I pinch the bridge of my nose, pained. ‘I’m sorry. There’s been mistake.’ I wrack my brain for that night when the invite came through. I vaguely recall now looking through hotels after Alice left that night, swiping with a deft hand, trying to focus on a blurred, spinning screen. I swear I checked my emails for booking confirmation, finding none. Putting the girl on speaker phone, I check my emails again. Then check my junk folder.
Booking confirmation.
I open the app I used to book the hotel.
About your stay at The Laurel Hotel.
Fuck.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck it, fuck, fuck.
‘Sorry, but I need to cancel this. I’m really sorry, there’s been some error here and?—’
‘No refunds.’
‘What?’
‘No. Refunds.’
‘But I’m not coming,’ I say. ‘I have no plans to go to Athens.’
‘People don’t book hotels if they don’t plan to go to the country.’
‘No, I suppose they don’t, but maybe I do, and…’ Any attempt to save face falters. ‘Look. Can we just forget this happened and… and refund me?’
This is Athens in August. Peak travel season. The most expensive time. Twenty-five fucking days. I need that money back.
‘We don’t do refunds. Company policy. You booked a room and it has been paid for. It’s all in the terms and conditions. We can cancel it.’
‘But I want my money back, not just for you to cancel it.’
‘No refunds.’
‘But I don’t want the room.’
‘Even better, then, that you weren’t getting it, anyway. Works out for the best, I’d say.’
I pace, drawing circles in the flooring. ‘It doesn’t work for the best. You’re not giving me my money back?’
‘That’s right.’ She pauses.
