The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,25

hallway and not a parking lot, kept the M- out of my lodging’s category.

I hadn’t had time to use the bathroom or even change my clothes when I heard a knock at my door. I sighed into the empty room. Lara Pierson seemed determined to break my resolve.

I began the task of unfastening the multiple locks of my hotel door. “Lara,” I called through the barrier, “don’t tell me they ran out of rooms.”

When I yanked the door open, my protest died on my lips. I had assumed my colleague and one-time fling had followed me to my room. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see Anissa—the woman from seat 3B. I hadn’t noticed her in the group outside of the airport or in the van to the hotel—not that I’d been looking for her. She must have been shuttled to the off-site location with a different group.

She wore the same outfit she’d been wearing at the airport, only a little more wrinkled and creased than before. Since last I’d seen her, she’d pulled her long, dark locks into a high ponytail. The loose waves spilled down the back of her neck like an iridescent waterfall.

Anissa cocked a dark eyebrow in amusement. “Expecting someone?”

“No, uh, just someone I work with.” I scanned the empty hallway as if expecting to see Lara lurking in the shadows. “What are you doing here?” Apparently subtly was not one of my strengths.

“My flight back to Detroit was canceled. All the flights were canceled,” she needlessly reminded me.

She hadn’t exactly answered my question. She had explained her presence at the hotel, but not at my door.

“What, uh …” I nearly asked how she had found me, but I managed to remember my manners. As long as I was in my uniform, I was technically still on-the-clock for the airline. “Can I help you with something?”

“Right. Sorry.” She shook her head with a quiet chuckle. “I saw you with your luggage in the lobby earlier, but you took off before I could talk to you. I don’t suppose you have an extra set of pajamas?” Her voice lilted up hopefully. “I checked my suitcase when I left Miami, and the airline wouldn’t give it back after my flight was canceled. All I have is my work bag and what I bought earlier from the duty-free store.”

She held up a clear plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed before. Amber-colored liquid sloshed around in a liter-sized glass bottle.

“I really don’t want to sleep in the clothes I’ve been wearing all day,” she continued to explain, “and there’s no way I’m sleeping naked. I’ve seen too many TV exposés about how dirty hotel beds are.” She shuddered where she stood, but not from the cold.

I unconsciously licked my lips. My tired brain had juvenilely honed in on one word in her entire soliloquy. Naked. I bet her bra and underwear matched. She seemed the type to coordinate those things. I wondered what color they were.

I realized I’d been silent for an unwarranted amount of time. I shook my head hard and banished improper thoughts. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Come in. I should have something.”

“Thank you,” she breathed in relief. “You’re really saving me.”

I stood back a few feet, making room in the doorway for her to enter. “Why did you check your bag? Aren’t you, like, a professional traveler?”

“I know, I know,” she said, making a face. “I should be living out of carry-on luggage, but I really hate having to squeeze all of my liquids into three-ounce bottles in a Ziploc bag. This,” she said, flipping at her thick, glossy ponytail, “doesn’t happen by itself.”

I was pretty confident she would still be beautiful, unwashed and unstyled, but she hadn’t asked for my opinion.

I opened my suitcase on one of the beds and searched its contents. I didn’t exactly have a lot of options since I hadn’t been planning on staying overnight. My wheeled bag had a few essentials for this kind of situation, however. I pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of cotton sleep shorts. The top was an old t-shirt I’d received for running in a charity 5K race. I had once entertained the goal of running a marathon, but my constantly changing work schedule precluded me from the strict training routine necessary for that kind of endeavor. It eliminated me from most areas that required persistence, routine, and consistency—like a long-term relationship.

“These should fit,” I decided before forfeiting the clothes to her.

Anissa gratefully accepted the outfit, hugging