“What do you mean, you don’t see a record? I handed it to you. Personally. Less than three hours ago.”
“Let me check with the bell desk.” She picked up the phone, had a brief conversation, then hung up and gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, sir. They don’t have any record of your bag either.”
I felt something inside me start to crack. Not the small crack from earlier. A bigger one. The kind that suggested structural failure was imminent.
“That’s impossible,” I said, very quietly. “I watched you take it. I watched you put it behind the counter.”
“I understand your frustration, Dr. Darcy, but—”
“My laptop is in that bag. My clothes. My toiletries. Everything I need for the next three days.”
“I’m sure we can locate it, sir. If you could just give me a few minutes to—”
“I don’thavea few minutes. I’ve been traveling for twelve hours. I drove seven hundred miles. I got a speeding ticket. I got interrupted during my presentation by a woman who thinks we’re soulmates because of ‘cosmic energy.’ And now you’re telling me my bag ismissing?”
My voice rose slightly on that last word. Not shouting. Not yet. But definitely heading in that direction.
The clerk’s eyes widened. “Sir, I promise we’ll find your—”
“It’s not missing.”
I froze.
That voice.
I knew that voice.
I turned around very, very slowly.
And there she was.
The gypsy. The “cosmic energy” woman. The person who’d derailed my entire presentation.
Standing right next to me. Smiling. Holding my bag.
“You left it at the bell desk,” she said cheerfully. “But then they moved it to lost and found because nobody claimed it, but I saw it and I recognized it because I have a really good memory for details. It’s the universe’s way of helping me stay connected to important things, and I was like, ‘That’s his bag!’ so I grabbed it for you. You’re welcome!”
She held it out to me, still smiling that bright, delighted smile.
I stared at her.
Then at my bag.
Then back at her.
“You,” I said slowly, “took my bag.”
“I rescued your bag,” she corrected. “There’s a difference. It was in lost and found. I found it. Now it’s not lost anymore. See? The universe provides.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
No words came out.
My brain had officially given up.
“Are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head. “You look a little pale. Do you need to sit down? There’s a bar right over there. We could get you some water. Or a drink. You look like you could use a drink. I could use a drink too, actually. Not because I need one, but because celebrating cosmic connections is important and—”
“I need a drink,” I said.
