Power Play - Brittney Mulliner Page 0,1
the elevators.
The moment I opened the door to my sanctuary, I dropped my bags and collapsed onto the plush bed. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and this time I didn’t have the strength to stop them. This was supposed to be my moment. All my hard work and sacrifice seemed to pay off when I got such an amazing offer. It had been sudden. They wanted me to start just three days after I accepted the job. There wasn’t much time to prepare for my life down here. I just packed up and my parents said I could figure things out when I got here. Ask my coworkers for recommendations of where to live and take time to find the neighborhood that felt right. After all, this was the beginning of the rest of my life.
I had budgeted for a hotel room for a week to give me time to find somewhere permanent to live, but now I would probably need to move again. The last thing I wanted was to ask my parents for help, not after how proud they’d been. I would do this on my own.
Hunger was the only motivation strong enough to get me to wake up and move. I managed to sleep for seven hours but was still so exhausted. It was after five, and I could’ve easily continued sleeping through the night but my stomach grumbled. Once I stood, though, I realized how desperately I needed a shower. I could smell myself. My pride––and my mother’s voice––prevented me from seeking out food without bathing first.
Once I was presentable, I took the stairs down to the main lobby and found the concierge’s desk.
He grinned as I approached. “Good evening, Miss. How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for a recommendation for somewhere close to get dinner.”
He pulled out a list and a map before pausing. “Are you a Storm’s fan?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. Did I like storms? I shook my head.
“Then might I suggest Hillsborough Sports Bar. It has a full dinner menu as well as a superb selection of craft beers. It’s just across the street and down half a block.” He raised his hand to the left.
“Thanks so much.” I smiled and headed in the direction he pointed. I saw the neon signs easily and nearly ran. I was hungrier than I thought, and knowing food was within reach, I didn’t bother to care if people saw me rushing down the sidewalk.
I stepped through the front door and was pleased to see it was more restaurant than bar, with sports memorabilia covering every flat surface, surrounding the wide-open area of tables that were mostly full. I forced my way through the mass of people to the front. A hostess greeted me, and when I said I was alone she recommended a seat at the bar for quicker service. A forty-minute wait to sit at a booth wasn’t worth it.
I found a single open stool and the bartender nodded in acknowledgment while taking the order of a man down at the opposite end.
There was a small, folded menu standing between the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder, so I pulled it out and scanned the options. A juicy burger sounded like heaven. My mouth watered at the thought of dipping salty fries in ranch.
With my mind made up, I replaced the menu and waited for the single bartender to make his way down to me.
A dozen or so TVs made up the entire wall behind the shelves of bottles. Each one displayed a different sporting event or commentator. A few of them were discussing the same hockey game. I cringed and looked away.
“Sorry about the wait. What can I get you?” The bartender shifted back and forth on his feet like he couldn’t possibly stand still.
“The All-American Burger, fries with a side of ranch, and a water to drink, please.” Something stronger was tempting, but I’d been cruel enough to my body the past few days. The best thing I could do was rehydrate so I had a clear head tomorrow. That’s when I would face my problems and figure out what to do next.
He nodded, picked up a glass, and began to fill it. “I’ll get that right up.” He placed the water in front of me and moved to a computer screen at the far corner of the bar.
I looked around, taking in the décor, and paused on a row of jerseys. North Carolina Storm. That’s what