My Wanderlust Bites the Dust

by Eliza Watson

  I nodded. “Will do.”

  I headed back to the office and slipped my badge lanyard around my neck. Before Gretchen could assign my next task, Blair marched over to me, her lips pressed firmly together. “I need Caity to run out and pick up a few things. Mr. Gauthier needs a good bottle of absinthe and white handkerchiefs. And Andrea Callan’s mental health box is hung up in customs.”

  Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Big surprise. She probably shipped some forbidden food again.”

  My heart raced. Had Mr. Gauthier told Blair why he needed hankies? Hopefully, he didn’t expect them to be monogrammed with blue embroidery.

  Blair handed me a shopping list and 10,000 korunas from petty cash. The idea of walking around Prague with around $500 in cash freaked me out, but not as much as the long list: lavender air freshener, lavender soap, chamomile tea…

  Finding this woman a therapist in Prague would be a much simpler task.

  “I’ll also have you do her souvenir shopping so that’s done.”

  I couldn’t imagine farming out my souvenir shopping to someone. Effort and thought should go into selecting the perfect gift for loved ones. Like the Coffey pins I’d bought for Rachel and Mom in Dublin. My pin was attached to my purse strap.

  “It just says stack dolls for her eight-year-old daughter,” I said. “No color preference or suggestions. What if she doesn’t like my choice and the stores won’t allow me to exchange it?”

  “Don’t worry,” Blair said. “She’s not that picky. She once had us wrap the gifts without even looking at them. And make sure you negotiate a great price. She always wants to know she got a deal even though she makes a ton.”

  “I don’t think shops deal here,” Gretchen said. “At least I’ve never had any luck. Maybe street vendors do.”

  “I’m sure Caity is up to the challenge,” Blair said.

  The word challenge was beginning to get on my nerves.

  “Ask the concierge,” Blair said. “He can also tell you where to find everything. He already confirmed their spa doesn’t carry lavender-scented products.”

  I wasn’t real keen on the spa’s eucalyptus-scented toiletries in my guest room bathroom. The smell was overpowering.

  I was happy to get away from the office for a few hours.

  One whiff of freedom and I might not return.

  Precisely why Blair had us working sixteen-hour days.

  * * *

  “Do shops bargain here?” I asked Tobias, the concierge, who stood behind the white marble countertop desk in the lobby.

  He gave his shoulder a faint shrug. “Souvenir shops might give you a deal, depending on the items.”

  That didn’t really answer my question.

  His gaze narrowed on my extensive shopping list. “Lavender and absinthe?”

  “They aren’t for me.”

  He quirked a curious brow. “For your friend on the honeymoon this summer?”

  Kind of a cheeky thing, wasn’t he?

  A dog’s bark echoed across the lobby, startling me. I turned to find the elderly woman from the elevator and her little dog. With pursed lips and angry gray eyes, she scooped up her pet. The concierge smiled and said hello to Madam Petrov and her dog, Fritzie. She gave him an abrupt nod. The dog growled at me and let out another bark. The woman shot me a nasty look as she marched toward the elevator, her proper square-heeled shoes clicking against the mosaic-tiled floor.

  I cringed. “She reminds me of my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Burkhardt.”

  “Madam Petrov has been staying here for over fifty years, Fritzie for more than ten. I have never seen anyone provoke such a reaction from either of them.”

  I gave the man an offended look. “As if it’s my fault your hotel’s elevator door is defective.”

  He gave me a mental eye roll, like I should have known better than to step inside a closing elevator.

  Whatever.

  He wrote down several stores that should sell most of the items and gave me a map with directions to a row of souvenir shops near the Charles Bridge. He gazed expectantly at me.

  I’d already tipped him a thousand korunas—fifty bucks—this trip. Could I tell him that had been a retainer fee? Maybe my fee had gone toward rescuing me from the elevator. I slipped 200 korunas from my pocket and placed it on the counter.

  Chapter Eight

  Restaurants, Bohemian crystal shops, and souvenir stores lined the narrow cobblestone street in Old Town, leading to the Charles Bridge. The buildings blocked the morning sun, shading the street. Tourists were just starting to wander out from their hotels. I snapped a pic of a cream-colored building with decorative green stone molding, a yellow statue of a woman seated on a balcony railing. I stared at it in awe, then snapped a pic of a pastel-blue building with white scroll designs framing the windows. I was going to run out of memory on my phone, and shopping time. I needed to focus.

  However, I was overwhelmed by hundreds of painted wooden stack dolls in various shapes and sizes peering out at me through the glass windows of every shop. The fact that this VIP hadn’t given me a clue as to what style she wanted for her daughter made shopping even more daunting.

  Five green-and-gold painted dolls with numbers across their chests stood lined up according to height in a window. The Packers football players were one of several NFL teams. Shops obviously catered to American tourists. Dad could display them on his desk at work and store paperclips and spare change or line them up on the bar in our family room. I couldn’t believe I was in Prague looking at a Packers souvenir. However, I felt bad I hadn’t ever brought Dad a gift from Ireland. Next to the set sat team players in gold-logoed blue jerseys. Declan’s favorite rugby team. It’d make a nice gift, but not as thoughtful as Taytos and my sketch.

  I stepped inside the shop, and two sales ladies gave me an obligatory nod, continuing to chat, ignoring me and the couple browsing. Besides stack dolls, the place sold souvenir mugs, magnets, plates, and other trinkets. I made a beeline for the Prince William and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, dolls. Zoe and I loved William and Kate. Yet my gaze strayed to a set of Santa Claus and his reindeer. I couldn’t afford to buy everyone dolls. Yet if the shops didn’t negotiate, maybe they’d cut me a deal if I purchased more sets. Rachel had brought me back a set of traditional stack dolls from Russia. They sat on my bedroom dresser. I needed to focus on the VIP’s dolls, even though this would likely be my only chance to venture out during shop hours. I should be allowed a half hour of guilt-free souvenir shopping. Nobody ever worried about infringing on my personal time.

  It would be part of my new life-balancing plan.

  I spied a colorful set of Disney Princess dolls. Perfect. Unless the little girl was a tomboy.

  I didn’t have time to go into each shop looking for the best price. I stepped outside and called Rachel to make sure Gretchen hadn’t been lying, just to make my life more difficult, about vendors not negotiating. And the concierge had been a bit vague. I also wanted to tell her about Declan sketching me on the bridge, since she knew he’d given up art. We’d attempted to hide our relationship from my sister on our Dublin meeting at Christmas, worried she’d question Declan’s playboy reputation and our ability to remain professional. When she’d discovered we were seeing each other, she hadn’t approved, afraid that I’d end up getting hurt again. One lousy boyfriend choice and nobody trusted my judgment in men.

  I explained my shopping task to Rachel.

  “Gretchen says they don’t negotiate here.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never had much luck there. Yet I’ve only bought some small perfume bottles. It’s off-season, though. They might come down. Start walking away and see if they follow you.”

  That didn’t sound promising.

  I told her about George Wood contacting me and coming over from Vienna for a visit.

  “Did you bring your pepper spray?” she asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Declan.” And Mom, who’d obviously told Rachel I traveled with defense sp
ray. Usually.

  “Well, I agree this guy sounds a bit suspicious, traveling hours to meet up with you to discuss family history.”

  “I’m meeting him at a busy bar next to the hotel.” I couldn’t allow Declan and her to make me paranoid, or I’d end up canceling with George.

  “That’s good. Hopefully, he’s legit.”

  I veered the conversation away from a possible online stalker to Declan’s sketch.

  “Wow, that’s a big step for him. I’m happy for you. Really. One less thing to worry about.”

  How many things did she still think I had to worry about with Declan? I’d confided in her about my relationship with Andy, but I was hesitant to discuss the physical issue possibly preventing me from sleeping with Declan. She’d tell me it was a sign that I shouldn’t sleep with him, but it felt right. Once I got my stomach problems solved.

  “I got a card from Gerry.” Her tone was matter of fact.

  “How romantic is that? He mailed a handwritten card from Ireland when he could have just texted or sent an e-card.”

  “Yeah, that was nice of him.”

  Nice of him? As if this guy was a hotel sales rep or a casual acquaintance. They’d had sex in every room of his townhouse. He owned Coffey’s pub in Dublin. On my first meeting, Rachel had taken the staff to dinner at our surname pub hoping there’d be a family connection. There wasn’t unless it went back several generations. Rachel always downplayed her feelings, but I sensed she really liked Gerry. But did he realize she did?

  “Did you call him?” I asked.

  “No, I e-mailed and told him I got it. I’m sure the pub was crazy busy with Valentine’s Day.”

  Today was Valentine’s Day, and the pub likely hadn’t even opened yet. I loved that Rachel and I could now talk boys, and I felt she needed some sisterly advice.

  “You should call him.”

  My phone chimed in my ear, startling me.

  “Hold one sec.”

  I should have changed my text alert for Gretchen to a tornado siren.

  What’s your status?

  I just started shopping.

  It would take me hours to fulfill the woman’s insane shopping list. I refused to let other people’s stress become my stress. However, the later I returned, the later I’d be working tonight.

  Deep breath…

  My text sounded a bit snippy. Since I’d decided I needed to suck up, I added: Will hurry back as soon as possible.

  I told Rachel I had to run.

  A guy stood outside the shop next door, smoking a cigarette, pitching his business to passersby. He appeared more eager to make a sale and possibly negotiate than the chatty women in the other shop. As I approached, he flicked his cigarette into the street.

  “Come. I give you very good price, Caity.”

  “How’d you know my name?”

  He gestured to the badge hanging around my neck.

  As he ushered me inside, I buttoned up my coat. Walking around Prague displaying a name badge was probably safe unless some weirdo followed me back to the hotel. Wearing one at the hotel wasn’t real secure. If someone followed me off the elevator and learned my room number, they could charge up a storm to my account. Not to mention stalk me.

  The same dolls as the other shop filled the shelves.

  A nervous feeling fluttered in my stomach. I gestured to the Disney Princess dolls. “How much are those?”

  “For you, two thousand korunas.”

  “What if I also buy those?” I pointed at the smaller set of Packer dolls.

  “One thousand five hundred each.”

  “They’re half the size.”

  I should have asked Declan for negotiating tips. With his Irish charm, he could talk anyone into giving him something for nothing. Had he landed in Florence yet?

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. “I need to call my boyfriend.”

  “Wait,” he yelled after me as I headed toward the door. “How much so you don’t need to call boyfriend?”

  A worried expression furrowed the man’s brow. Was he concerned that if I called my boyfriend, he’d tell me not to buy the dolls?

  “Fifteen hundred for the big set, nine hundred for the smaller one,” I said.

  “One thousand one hundred for small one.”

  “One thousand. And I’ll also take the William and Kate dolls and the Santa ones.”

  He nodded in defeat.

  I smiled triumphantly, anxious to brag to Gretchen about my bargaining skills.

  He gave me directions to the first store the hotel’s concierge had recommended for mental health items and absinthe.

  Just up the street, a guy standing in a shop’s doorway held out two watercolor prints of the Charles Bridge from different views. They were done in gorgeous autumn-colored hues bordered in a burgundy matte. My mind filled with memories of Declan sketching me on the romantic bridge. They’d make the perfect gift for him. He’d one day have an apartment to hang them in.

  “You like?” the man asked.

  “How much?”

  “Seven hundred fifty korunas. Er, thirty-five dollars.”

  Wait a sec. I’d just paid a thousand korunas for a small set of stack dolls, thinking I was paying twenty-five bucks, not fifty. Was this guy’s calculation right? I typed it into the currency conversion app on my phone. Crap. I’d been so excited and caught up in negotiating, I hadn’t been thinking clearly. Ugh. Could I expense seventy-five bucks for the VIP’s dolls? Would Blair think that still sounded like a deal?

  A man hollered down the street in Czech.

  Our gazes darted to a police officer running toward us.

  The guy scooped up a large black plastic bag in the doorway and took off, leaving me holding the prints. The officer glanced at me as he raced past. He yelled out to the guy, who disappeared around a corner with his black bag in tow. What the hell? He was selling the prints out of a bag? I’d thought he was standing outside a shop, trying to lure people in with his beautiful artwork, like the other guy.

  I’d almost bought hot prints for Declan.

  Instead, I’d gotten them for free.

  Could I get arrested for unknowingly accepting stolen merchandise? Maybe the prints weren’t stolen. The guy just didn’t have a sales permit. Or maybe he was dating the police officer’s sister and the man was pissed off. There could be dozens of reasons why the cop was chasing him.

  Yet I escaped down the street in the opposite direction, thankful that I’d buttoned up my coat so the officer hadn’t seen my name. If I had to use the rest of petty cash for bail money, Blair would send me home on the next plane.

  Chapter Nine

  I zipped through the hotel’s side entrance, weighted down with bags, and made a beeline for the elevator bank. My gaze darted toward the lobby, then over my shoulder. I stabbed the elevator button, glancing around. If anyone were watching me, they’d think I’d just heisted a bank and was on the run. It wasn’t that I was in a rush to stash potentially hot prints in my room. I didn’t want my coworkers to discover I’d bought myself souvenirs while running VIP errands. Gretchen and Blair would think that had delayed me.

  Several things had delayed me. Frazzled after the print encounter, I’d gone the wrong direction and gotten totally lost. I’d had to find an ATM for cash after overpaying for the stack dolls, which left me with only four hundred dollars in my account. And it’d taken three stores to find everything on the woman’s extensive mental health list. What about my mental health? What happened to deserving a half hour to buy souvenirs?

  My phone chimed. I tensed, then relaxed when I saw it was from Declan rather than Gretchen.

  At hotel in Florence. Your card makes me miss ya even more.

  Recalling the card’s mushy, borderline sappy sentiments made my eyes water.

  Me too. And I just picked you up some hot prints.

  Luv you.

  I smiled. Love you too.

  I made it to my room without encountering anyone I knew. I tossed my
bags and prints on the floor inside the door. Mission accomplished. I zipped down to the office, sneaking into the meal room to grab lunch before Blair or Gretchen put me to work. No food buffet. I’d texted Gretchen I was on my way back, which was probably why she’d pulled it. I should have grabbed a few bags of Taytos from my room. I snatched a candy bar from a basket, then reluctantly exchanged it for a banana and a small bag of mixed nuts.

  Remain Zen…

  I hummed “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” trying to drown out Mindy’s phone conversation demanding the status of a VIP’s bag delivery, the top popping on Courtney’s energy drink, fingers pounding laptop keys, and printers frantically spitting out paper. Christmas carols usually helped me relax.

  Blair pounced on me before I could turn and escape. “How’d it go?”

  “Great.” Except I’d forked out double the korunas from what I’d originally thought. The fact that the hot prints offset the extra cost of the dolls wasn’t comforting. I showed Blair the souvenirs and mental health items.

  She eyed the handkerchiefs with interest. One was plain white, the other white with blue trim, resembling the one Mr. Gauthier had given to Madam Petrov. Was Blair upset both weren’t white?

  “Is something wrong?” I asked innocently.

  She shook her head. “No. Should be fine. Andrea Callan doesn’t land for a few hours, so you can prepare her room. Spray it, lay magazines on the cocktail table. Stuff like that.”

  Gretchen glared at Blair, then peered over at me. “I need you to shadow the minibar attendant to make sure he swaps out the competitor products with Evans and Walker ones in all the regular rooms checking in tonight. Mindy has checked the suites.”

  “Absolutely.” I smiled. “I’ll hurry and get this done so I can help out with that.”

  Gretchen looked surprised by my eagerness to assist when Blair seemed to care less if she had support. Besides me needing to suck up, it was ridiculous that I kept getting pulled in every direction because this meeting was understaffed. Everyone was suffering.

  I headed up to Ms. Callan’s suite. Luckily, the room wasn’t as big as the Presidential Suite…or haunted. That I knew anyway. The room was decorated in gold, yellow, and blue. I fanned magazines on the cocktail table. Luckily, a kiosk had sold ones in English. The air freshener cans were in Czech, so I’d relied on pictures. I didn’t know for sure what lavender looked like, but I’d bought a can with a purple flower on it. I sprayed the air. I took a whiff, deciding it was lavender. Mmm… I sprayed the air again and stepped through the mist so the scent would linger on my clothes. I should have bought a can for my room.