was that about? I wonder and try not to limp as the throbbing pain in my ankle makes my toes curl. God, with the force that door shut on my ankle a girl has to wonder if she would lose her entire foot.
Walking in through the entrance, I smile at the receptionist who looks up from the desk a little bored. “How often do you think they have visitors?” I whisper to him.
He shrugs, not giving me a glance as he fixes a dazzling smile to the woman in front of us. “Hello there,” he says, his voice low. Her bored expression quickly gives way to surprise.
“Hi there,” she says. Her quiet voice matches her subtle features.
“How are you today?” he asks, leaning forward on long legs and smiling down at the mousy brunette.
“I’m doing well, thank you,” she says. There’s a slight blush and an adorable flutter of lashes as she looks down to the computer, then back over at me, then to him again. “How can I help you today, sir?”
“My friend and I here need rooms for the night. Think you can help us out?”
“Yes, of course, sir,” she says, jumping up from her seat and quickly typing. “Will you be needing separate bedrooms?” she asks, looking at the two of us.
“Yes,” we say at the same time.
Then he gives me an amused look. “But I would like them connecting, please. Adjoining rooms. Is that possible?” he asks.
“Yes, sir. It is possible,” she says with an odd tone, typing so quickly. It amazes me that she doesn’t trample all the keys at once. “How many nights will you be staying here?” she asks.
“Let’s start with one and see how it goes,” he says with a nod and pulls out his pay-as-you-go Visa card. “Sorry, I don’t have any forms of ID. Is that going to be an issue?” he says passing over the Visa card.
“Oh, well. Sir, we normally do require there to be ID present at the time of check-in,” she says trailing off looking a little saddened.
“I see,” he says. “Well, the issue is my friend and I are in a bad situation. We were just leaving South Dakota when we were robbed at a gas station,” he lies smoothly, and I try to keep my face convincing though her eyes are no longer on me as she turns them back on him.
“Oh no. How’s horrible for you. Did you call the police?”
“I did,” he says, “but they couldn’t do much. You know how it goes. They file a report,” he says leaning forward, his large brown eyes sad, “and they tell you they’ll keep you updated.” He shrugs. “Took our cell phones too, and her clothes.” He gestures to me, and I feel my cheeks flush. “We’re still 15 hours from home,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t even know how we’re gonna get our passports back to get home.” He groans, looking over at me as I nod slowly feigning disappointment.
“Oh, no,” she gasps, “Where’s home?”
“I’m Canadian,” he shrugs. “At this point, I just want a place to lay down, sleep for the night, and then try to figure out where to go from here.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she says, reaching her hand forward and resting it on his forearm for a moment, then pulling it away.
Jake never misses a beat. He’s so smooth. “Is there any way you can help us out?” he asks. “There’s literally no way for me to get a driver’s license or any form of identity verification until I get home,” he says.
“Okay,” she nods, understanding.
“Thank you so much,” Jake says as she reaches forward and takes the Visa.
“I’ll just book it under my name,” she says, with a quick nod, typing in her own information and then entering the Visa card number.
“Thank you,” he says, again. “You really are a lifesaver. You have no idea how much you’ve helped us right now.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” she says with a smile. “I’m just glad that you got me and not my manager because he would definitely not have been helpful at this moment.”
“Lucky for us,” I say with a nod, and the woman looks at me surprised as if she forgot I was there.
“Yes,” she says, “lucky for you.” She smiles and nods turning back to Jake. “Alright, Mr…”
“Jovovich,” he supplies with an odd tone, “thank you so much. I really appreciate this.”
“Oh, you too. No problem. I mean, have a wonderful day,” she sputters, flustered and