Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,17
ten minutes.”
“Thanks, man.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m keying the door on one of their three suites. It has a private outdoor entrance off a walkway that extends from the road out off the sloped bank. I look to the left and see a grassy area at the river’s edge with a little fire pit and a set of Adirondack chairs.
I open the door, and we walk in. The place has a tiny living room with a small dining table in an L-shaped alcove surrounded by white painted bookcases. Tucked into one of the built-in bookcases are a mini fridge, microwave, and coffee maker. Off to the left, there’s a set of French doors leading out to a small balcony overlooking the river with a wrought iron bistro table and two chairs. Through the archway on the right is a bedroom with a single queen bed.
I glance at the living area. It’s small, and there’s only a love-seat and chair with an ottoman but no couch. I drop the small backpack I pulled from my saddlebag. It contains only a change of clothes and a few toiletries.
Lola, I know, has nothing. I suppose I’ll have to buy her a few things to get her by until we get home. You can bet her father will be getting the receipts for what I spend on her.
A bottle of wine and two glasses sit on a small table with a welcome note. I pick up the bottle and read the label. “You like wine?”
She doesn’t respond, and I turn to look. She’s staring at the bed. Guess I better set her mind at ease.
“Don’t worry, you can have it all to yourself.”
Her eyes drift over to me. “But where will you sleep?”
I glance around. “I guess that chair. I’ve slept in worse places, doll.”
She folds her arms. “Suit yourself.”
I turn to open the wine and pour two glasses, then carry one to her. She’s moved to the French doors and stares out. I lift my chin. “Let’s sit out there.”
She pulls the doors open, and we move to the bistro table. I set her glass in front of her and take the other seat. It’s quiet outside and across the river we can see the lights of the historic district. I draw in a breath and smell the rain coming. With any luck, it’ll hold off until we finish our glass.
“It’s pretty out here,” Lola murmurs.
I nod. “Yeah. Real nice.” The lights from across the way reflect on the water setting a magical mood. Taking a sip of the Pinot Noir, I realize the last peaceful moment I had was sitting on my sister’s porch this morning. Lord, that seems like a lifetime ago.
Music drifts to us from somewhere, maybe from the Italian restaurant across the river with its back patio butting up to the bank. Moretti’s spelled in neon on the roof.
I look over at Lola; she’s staring into space, and I wonder if she’s still worried about her brother. I’m not sure that’s a can of worms I want to open, so I pick another topic. “You around the club much?”
Her eyes lift to mine as if coming out of a fog. “The club?”
“Royal Bastards.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.”
“I’ve only been to Durango a couple of times, but I’ve never seen you.”
She sips her wine. “I guess we missed each other, because I sure would have remembered you.”
I grin. “That so?”
Her eyes get big, like she’s said too much, then drop to her glass. She puts her chin in her hand and stares off, and then suddenly straightens. “Oh, shit.” She yanks her phone from her pocket.
“What’s wrong?”
“I forgot to call my girlfriends. I’m sure they’re worried sick.” She glances at her screen. “Yep. Six missed calls.”
“Guess you better let ‘em know you’re alive.”
She pushes back her chair, stands, and walks inside to make the call in private. I light a smoke and check my own phone. By the time I’ve drained the last of my wine, she’s back, and a strong breeze is kicking up bringing in the cool front and rain.
I stand, grinding the butt of my cigarette out in the ashtray. “Better move inside.”
She grabs her glass, drains half of it, and follows me.
I pick up the bottle and refill hers and then mine. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. They were really worried, but I assured them I’m all right. They know how crazy my father can get. They’re going to bring my stuff back for me.”
“Did you talk to Rock?”
“Yes. He’s