sunrise over the city that I both love and hate. I still have my dress wrapped around my waist and I feel alone and dirty.
The realization that I forgot and missed my meeting with Will Knight hits me like a car crash. Fuck! Jeff—the real Jeff—must’ve taken the key I left for Will, which means he obviously had no way of gaining access to the suite without that fucking key. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I botched everything up. I need to go find my phone and see if Will texted me. I hear a stirring in my room and see movement in the corner of my eye. I look over the edge of the bed to spot someone curled up in a ball on a small loveseat by the wall. My heart clenches in fear, as I know by the clothing and hair color it’s not Jeff. It can’t be Will! He had no way of getting in. I try to stay calm and rationalize my situation, but I can’t. I’m scared. The terror begins to quickly spread across my body and gags me into silence. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. I’m paralyzed with fear as my brain tries and fails to convince me that I’m not gonna die. I need to run before it’s too late. Oh my God, who the fuck is in my room?
The voices inside my head scream for me to do something. My nonexistent self-preservation mode suddenly kicks in as I slowly try to move off the bed without making any noise and quietly get the fuck out of this room and call security. Who is this predator? What if he wakes up and tries to kill me? Why hasn’t he killed or raped me yet? What was he waiting for? The nonstop questions collide and blur in my head as I struggle to glide out soundlessly. I haven’t looked away from him while I attempt to find footing. As luck would have it, I step directly on my discarded heels and stumble off the bed, making a racket. I close my eyes knowing that it’s all over. I fucked up and I’m about to confront my subjugator and have my self-destruction prophecy fulfilled earlier than originally anticipated.
“Look Away” by Chicago
I reckon I won’t go up to meet Emily exactly at ten. I will go up to her suite around quarter past ten; this way I don’t seem like an eager eejit, which I really am. It’s almost time to go up as I walk over to the smiling, dark-haired receptionist that I’ve seen once or twice before. Time to lay on the charm.
“Good evening, my name is Jeffery Rossi, my mate is occupying the penthouse and was to leave instructions on granting me access to the suite,” I nervously say as the thought of them asking for my ID pops in my head. The prospect of seeing her again finally feels close enough to taste, the last thing I need is for our meeting to go tits up because I can’t show proper documentation for this Jeffery fella.
The woman is looking at me funny. She gets up and walks over to a short bald man standing at the far right of the check-in counter. They’re chatting and looking my way. Bollocks! I don’t want any issues. I just need to see Emily for the love of God. It bloody feels like I need to jump through hoops of fire to see her again.
I spy the receptionist returning with less of a smile on her face. All I can think is that I bloody must charm this woman into forgetting to ask me to show any valid form of identification. I smile my fake “I like you” smile and try to telepathically convince her that I am indeed Jeffery Rossi. She smiles warmly at me and says, “Sorry, sir, I just had to check with my manager since it states in our system that we’ve already given you the key earlier tonight. We’ve also had your ID checked and placed on file. Have you misplaced your key?”
I have no clue what this dimwit is talking about. I try to give off an air of confidence as I nod before saying, “Yes, I may have misplaced the bloody thing.” Oh, God why is it so hard for me to see you, Emily?
“Not a problem, Mr. Rossi. We have an extra key that we can use to let you up. Or we can just