The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,63
the plastic card to unlock the hotel door. It was clear that she was still getting used to the carry-on luggage; it hadn’t become an extension of her body yet, like my own.
She pushed the door open and stepped into the room, awkwardly dragging her luggage behind her. The black carry-on bag had turned on its side and the wheels no longer served their intended function.
I bent down and picked up the bottom of her bag, and together we carried the luggage across the threshold.
“Thanks,” she said, looking a little flustered.
The hotel room was small, but efficient. A queen-sized bed, a bathroom, and a TV inside of a wardrobe. Airport hotels were for people with long layovers or canceled flights. Maybe a random hook-up. You wouldn’t make this an extended stay.
“You do this often?” I eyeballed the room and then Anissa.
She flopped down on the queen-sized bed like a preteen at a slumber party. “Sometimes. Like, if I need a nap between flights. I’ve never been able to fall asleep at the gate.”
A knock at the door behind me pulled my attention away from the woman and the bed. Anissa hopped to her feet and went to the door while I continued to stand in the center of the room. There was no place to sit except for the bed.
Anissa came away from the door holding a large silver serving tray from room service. I could see a carafe of orange juice, two glasses, two tiny bottles of champagne, and two plates covered with silver covering dishes.
She set the tray on the bed and removed both plate covers with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
Pancakes, stacked three cakes high, steamed underneath. Each plate had its own tidy pile of bacon.
“Breakfast in bed?” I remarked, still keeping my distance. “Cute.”
Anissa snatched a piece of thick-cut bacon from one of the plates and took a bite. “Are you going to join me?”
“I’m not sure I should get in a bed with you,” I said in earnest.
She held up her right hand as if taking an oath. “I solemnly swear I am not trying to seduce you.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know about that. Pancakes are my weakness.”
Anissa patted an empty space on the mattress, close to her. “We’ll stay on top of the covers. Clothes will stay on,” she vowed. “I know you have a flight to catch soon.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed instead of next to her, not entirely giving in. I didn’t want to get too comfortable, but I also knew I needed to eat before my next flight. Low-blood sugar at 35,000 feet was not a good look.
Anissa grabbed one of the miniature champagne bottles and released its cork. The bottle made a loud popping noise, but no liquid shot out. She emptied the bottle’s contents into one of the glasses and poured a splash of orange juice on top. She tried to hand me the hotel-room mimosa, but I waved it off.
“No thanks,” I refused. “I’m on the clock.”
Anissa stuck out her lower lip. She looked like she wanted to protest, but decided against it.
I took one of the plates and slowly began to eat. Anissa was quiet as well as she cut up her stack of pancakes into small, precise bite-sized pieces.
I couldn’t stay silent for long. “What is all of this?”
“An apology.”
“What do you need to apologize for?” I asked, playing dumb.
She frowned. “You know what, Alice.”
“Is this because I said something to that woman on the plane?”
“Not entirely. Although that was pretty bad ass,” she approved. “But I’ve felt guilty about how we left things pretty much the minute you left my house.”
“I don’t think ‘we’ is the right pronoun,” I cut in. “You basically made all the decisions for both of us.”
“Can you let me get my apology out?” she huffed.
I pressed my lips together to keep from saying anything else.
“So here’s the thing—I’m terrible at relationships,” she scowled. “I’m more of a situation-ship kind of girl.”
“Situation-ship?” I echoed. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
“Situation-ship: a relationship without labels. Friends, but a little more.”
I curled my lip. “Oh. You mean like friends with benefits. Fuck buddies.”
She shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it. I travel too much, and when I’m not traveling I’m on-call and have to get to an airport at a moment’s notice if someone calls in sick. My schedule changes all the time. I’m probably going to miss your birthday and every other holiday of importance.”
“That