room service, and review more documents for a few hours. The flight to Billings, Montana the next morning was scheduled to leave around seven-thirty, so she wanted to get to bed early.
But somehow the idea of doing any more work that night, especially after the hostile encounter she had just had, left her feeling completely uninspired. It was her birthday—couldn’t she think of better ways to spend it?
When she packed this time, she included a travel-sized bottle of expensive bubble bath from home, on the off chance she might be in a hotel that week that had a decent-looking tub. The one in her current hotel wasn’t particularly nice, but maybe it would do. Stick a shower cap over her hair, roll up a towel for her neck, and soak in the scent of vanilla and lavender while she thought about her life.
She had just sunk into the bubbles when she heard the phone in her room ring. Anyone she wanted to talk to would have called her cell, she reasoned, and so she made no effort to drag herself out of the water to answer. She did, however, get up to turn off the light in the bathroom. She wished she’d thought to bring a candle. But lying in hot, delicious-scented water in the dark was as close to luxury as she was going to get.
***
When the bath was finally too cold to be comfortable anymore, Sarah climbed out, turned on the light, and toweled herself off. She wrapped herself in the familiar white robe that hotel had to offer, then headed for the phone to order room service.
The message light was blinking. Sarah pressed the button and listened.
“Hi. I thought I’d have dinner downstairs tonight,” said Joe’s voice. “If you’re interested, I’ll be there around six-thirty.”
Sarah glanced at the bedside clock. She had about fifteen minutes to get ready, if she wanted to.
If.
She rested the phone back in its cradle, then sat on top of her bedspread. There was nothing wrong with staying in, and potentially many things wrong with going out.
But she couldn’t help her curiosity. And, she admitted, couldn’t ignore the heavy layer of loneliness that settled in on her while she bathed in the dark. Maybe it was all right to have dinner with him, just this once. How could it be any more awkward than her fainting up at the ski area and him having to carry her to a clinic? Or, for that matter, what could be worse than him cleaning up after her when she’d been sick all over the bathroom?
The more she thought about it, maybe this was exactly what she needed to balance things out again. Buy him dinner, be pleasant, leave feeling like she was as much of an adult as her thirty years said she should be.
And you’re lonely, a voice inside dared to remind her.
But that wasn’t a good enough reason. She had been lonely for a long time, and hadn’t felt the need to do anything stupid yet. She would allow herself to go if she could maintain a certain distance—just like Joe said they should.
Sarah went to her luggage to find something to wear. And knew she brought the perfect thing.
***
“It isn’t real silk,” her mother told her as Sarah opened her birthday gifts over Thanksgiving. “I think it’s rayon or polyester.”
“It’s beautiful, Mom—really beautiful. Thank you so much.” Sarah held the royal blue kimono top in front of her for her mother’s inspection. The pajama top crossed over the chest in the center and tied at the side. It came with a matching pair of pajama pants.
“That almost looks good enough to wear out,” her mother had said.
Yes, Sarah thought now, it did.
Especially when she paired it with her black pumps, earrings, and a thin gold necklace. She smiled at her reflection, thinking how fun it was to have this as her own private secret. As soon as dinner was over, she could simply return to her room, brush her teeth, and climb into bed. It was almost as easy as wearing sweats.
The dining room downstairs looked like every other restaurant she had been to in any of the chain hotels. This one had a bar, and unfortunately, Paul Chapman was sitting at it that moment.
Sarah hid at the side of the hostess’s station until someone came to seat her.
“Away from the bar,” Sarah requested. “Far away.” Then she followed the hostess, watching Chapman the whole time as he guzzled his drink, shoveled nuts