Room Service

by Fiona Riley

  “Yes and no. There’s something nice about not being tied down, if that’s what you’re asking.” Savannah’s response was automatic, but hearing the words come out of her mouth gave her a pang of regret. She wondered if she had sounded callous. She hadn’t meant to. There were pros and cons to this life. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m fascinated by you,” Olivia said. “The fact that you are entirely mobile blows my mind.” Her curls bounced as she shook her head. “I’m a pretty rooted person. I value the sense of home I get from my little apartment. I like movie nights with my friends and walks in the park along familiar routes. I like knowing that my sister and niece are only a fifty-minute flight away at any given time. I don’t think I could handle being untethered and entirely free from the familiar place I’ve grown accustomed to.”

  Savannah considered this for a moment, looking around the bar as she thought. She took in the small group of businessmen after work, throwing darts in the corner and sharing a pitcher of beer. Her gaze settled on a couple on a date at the bar, his hand on her knee as she laughed and touched his arm affectionately. She wondered if she was missing something. If she was missing the anchor that everyone else here had. She had that anchored life with her ex, Gwen, before Gwen’s infidelity ruined everything. There was a sense of loss around the familiar domesticity that came with a relationship, that was true. She missed it. Part of it, anyway.

  She kept her gaze on the bartender as he wiped down the bar with a rag when she replied, “I think that eventually everyone wants stability and routine in their lives. So, yes, I guess I do want to end up someplace, sometime, on a more permanent level. I don’t know if I’ve found that place just yet, or if I ever will.” She was surprised by her own honesty in the moment. She blamed it on the empty martini glasses on the table in front of her.

  “You will,” Olivia replied. “You’ll find that place. Everyone needs roots somewhere. Sometimes it just takes longer to find the right spot. But you’ll find it.”

  “You seem very confident in that assertion.” Savannah had found in the short time that she’d known her that Olivia seemed to have a way of framing things in such a manner that they seemed quite attainable. Even the most daunting of tasks. She liked this about her new colleague. She felt very comfortable addressing big things like her nomadic tendencies in a very unassuming way.

  “I am,” Olivia replied with an affirmative nod. “Piecing things together is my full-time job: everything has a place. Sometimes you just need to look from a different angle or with a fresh set of eyes, but all puzzles have a solution.”

  Savannah finished her drink and thought about the many ways that statement could be interpreted. She had a preference as to which way that might be. Time would tell if her wish came true. “Well, I guess we’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

  Chapter Six

  Denver

  Olivia glanced down at her phone once more as she tapped her foot, waiting for the cab to pull up. She’d landed about forty minutes ago, collected her bags, and managed to corral Devon and Farrah to meet her at the arrivals curb in time for their designated pickup, except there was no cab in sight. The flight had been bumpy and she had been sandwiched between two rather unfriendly passengers, both of whom took turns falling asleep on her shoulders. The last thing she wanted to be doing right now was wait around for some cabbie to get her. All she really wanted was a shower and a stiff drink, the order of which was negotiable.

  “Thank God for technology. I hate flying,” Devon grumbled and cracked his neck while playing with his phone. He had been whining off and on since they’d met at the gate in LaGuardia, and Olivia’s patience with him had run out about an hour ago.

  Farrah stood behind him, brushing lint off his shoulders before fixing her hair in the window of the terminal behind them. “Hey, Liv? Are we meeting everyone at the hotel or…?

  “Yeah, when the cab finally gets here, we’ll check in and meet briefly to discuss the schedule for the next few days.” She looked at the clock on her phone again but she just got more annoyed when she saw the time. She really should stop doing that.

  Just as Olivia was about to blow her stack, a large black SUV with tinted windows pulled up and out of the passenger side popped Savannah with a large smile on her face.

  “Welcome to Denver.”

  Olivia let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders relaxing a bit at the sight of Savannah. She’d been looking forward to seeing her again. She’d had this nervous energy buzzing through her for the whole flight. She shouldn’t have been surprised that she felt much calmer now that Savannah was here. She knew damn well that part of that nervousness was about seeing Savannah in person after their recent text exchange. “I thought there was a cab picking us up.”

  “Why? Are you disappointed?” Savannah teased her as she helped Farrah lift her suitcase into the back hatch. The driver emerged and began helping Devon with his bags on the other side of the vehicle.

  “No, no, not at all. I’m sort of relieved.” Olivia placed her own luggage in the back. “My only cab experiences are on the mean Manhattan streets, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  “Well, I figured you guys would be tired and I heard the weather wasn’t ideal on the flight out, so I commandeered the hotel’s shuttle and Ernesto here.” Savannah nodded toward the driver. “Ernesto seems to know all the best restaurants in town.”

  As Olivia settled into the back seat of the van, she let her mind wander. Over the past few weeks, she and Savannah had communicated daily via email or phone. Sometime along the way they had swapped numbers and begun texting outside of work. At first it was just about work details, things they had forgotten to include in interoffice memos or little notes on some design features that Olivia had late-night inspiration about.

  The conversations were harmless and innocent, until the last few days, when their texts had more to do with seeing each other again than about work. Olivia had started things three days ago, sort of unintentionally. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d had a feeling that maybe Savannah was flirting with her at the bar that last night before she’d left town, something about the way she was looking at her. There wasn’t anything in particular, but something just told her that maybe her immediate attraction to Savannah was reciprocated. She’d thought about this a lot. So when it came time to pack, she figured there wasn’t any harm in asking Savannah what she should wear. No harm there, right? hey, what’s the weather like there? what do I pack for clothes?

  Olivia didn’t think it was too odd a question, although she was aware she could just look it up on her weather app. This was more of a…conversation starter of sorts. You know, get Savannah thinking about what she might be wearing.

  There was a pause before Savannah answered. It’s warm, dry. Pack sunglasses, it’s bright here

  She added some specificity for round two. so like, skirts or pants?

  Savannah’s reply came fast. She had her attention. This was good. oh definitely skirt weather, pants for cooler evenings. altho I can see if formal gowns are necessary…

  It took exactly three seconds for Olivia to type a reply. formal gowns? R we attending something fancy?

  Savannah replied: well, I expect a certain standard of dress when in my presence

  Well then, that was something. She could practically hear those words coming out of Savannah’s mouth in that husky voice which made her feel all sorts of things. She hesitated for a moment, writing and deleting her text before settling on something playful as a response. She added the winky face for good measure. oh i c. someone should tell Randal that. Ok, i will make sure to up my packing game ;)

  Savannah texted back: I’m excited to see the final selections.

  Suddenly, Olivia was much more excited about this Denver trip. So much so, that the following morning, with a little too much caffeine and some downtime, she texted Savannah again. Just to see if yesterday was a fluke. ok, so i think im all packed. what’s the coffee like there? should i
pack some?

  The response was immediate. it’s good. i will make sure they have 1% milk at the ready

  Olivia jumped right in for the full flirt. oh, u remember how i like my coffee? that’s sweet. :)

  There was a pause and Olivia wondered if maybe she’d crossed a line. The ellipses bubble hovered next to Savannah’s name, until: do u remember how i take mine?

  Booyah. That was definitely a flirt back. Of course she remembered how Savannah liked her coffee. She’d spent the better part of a week staring at Savannah’s mouth the whole time they had their morning meetings. She could probably pick her lipstick color out of a lineup without any trouble as well.

  Olivia: skim milk, one splenda ;)

  Savannah: u got it. :) hurry up and get here, we have work to do.

  She remembered smiling the rest of the day, feeling victorious. But she knew her victory would be short-lived. Their relationship needed to stay light and playful. The flirting couldn’t go anywhere. And as she looked up to catch Savannah smiling at her in the rearview from the front seat of the SUV, she reminded herself that she would not flirt with her client’s liaison, she would not stare at her lips when she talked, and she most definitely wouldn’t start falling for her.

  * * *

  The ride from the airport to the hotel was quick. Ernesto pointed out interesting sights along the way and told them little facts about the Mile High City and about fun hiking trails near the hotel. Savannah watched Olivia and Farrah in the rearview from the passenger seat of the SUV. Farrah was nodding and smiling at all the information, occasionally leaning back and saying something to Devon, who had put in an earbud and was zoning out. Olivia was reclined in the seat, her sunglasses pushed up onto her head, loose dark curls hanging freely, each curl more perfect than the last—soft looking and gorgeous. Her eyes were directed toward the mountain view as they drove along, occasionally flicking toward Farrah from time to time.

  Savannah found herself staring. She averted her eyes and slipped on her shades when she caught Olivia glancing up and smiling at her in the mirror. Olivia had the most beautiful smile; she had small dimples and perfect teeth with full lips. Savannah let the near-black lenses of her sunglasses hide her appreciative gaze. She was surprised when they finally pulled up to the hotel, not realizing that she had spent the better part of the ride entranced.

  Savannah waited in the lobby while Olivia and the rest of her team checked in to their respective rooms. It was late in the day and the construction workers had gone home, but when they arrived at the design space, Randal and Daniel still had on their hard hats and were poring over some graph paper with a calculator. Reagan was firing crumpled paper basketballs into the waste bin and posing with every successful completion.

  “Liv! Thank God you guys are finally here.” Reagan swept an arm across her forehead dramatically. “These guys have been boring me to death.”

  She jerked her thumb toward Randal and Daniel, rolling her eyes when they grunted in response. She sidled up to Olivia and hooked her arm. “Anyway. How was your flight, girl?”

  “Bumpy. And cramped. But we made it.” Olivia adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she glanced around the skeleton of the room. “How’s it been here?”

  Randal cleared his throat. “It’s good, Liv, everything looks good. They’ll put up the dividing wall over there, tomorrow. And they’re taking orders for fabrics and plants tomorrow, too, so they’ll be here by the end of the week.”

  Daniel nodded and adjusted his hard hat. “Yeah, everything looks totally manageable. The crew here is really good.”

  Savannah stepped forward, pulling out a rolled-up blueprint and draping it across the nearest drafting table. “This is the outline the guys and Reagan have come up with for the construction schedule. We’re hoping that Devon and Farrah can look at some samples in the morning and have some firmed-up plans by the early afternoon.”

  Savannah watched as Olivia slipped her arm out of Reagan’s and walked toward the drafting table. She placed her bag on the floor and appraised the print as Reagan and Devon began playing an aggressive one-on-one paper basketball game nearby. Savannah’s gaze followed Olivia’s fingers as she outlined the dividing wall and walked her fingertips along the layout for the wall of glass that would be controlled by the computer system to adjust its tint and the scene viewed on it. When Olivia paused at the dotted lines at the edge of the room and looked up at her, Savannah had to remind herself that she was there to work, not ogle.

  Savannah stepped forward and pointed to the far corner of the space. “This is where the water feature will go. It will require less plumbing here and it will help separate the zones of the room.”

  Olivia nodded and leaned closer to the print once more to examine the details. Out of the corner of her eye, Savannah saw Reagan make a crazy jump shot toward the trash and careen into Olivia, sprawling her forward toward the table. Savannah barely got her hands on Olivia’s waist in time to prevent her from face-planting on the blueprints.

  Olivia looked a little stunned, her hands settling on Savannah’s still wrapped around her waist. She took a breath and stepped toward Reagan with her fist raised. “Seriously, Reagan? What are you, five?”

  Reagan spun on her heel, waiting to see if she made the shot before checking to see if Olivia was okay. “You good, Liv? Did you see that shot?”

  Savannah loosened her grip on Olivia, but kept her hand at Olivia’s lower back surveying her cautiously before shooting a glare at Reagan. It seemed as though Reagan was going to be more than a handful.

  She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away as Devon and Reagan resumed their game, oblivious to the annoyed mutterings of their team leader. Savannah distanced herself from Olivia in that moment. She used a conference call with a vendor as an excuse to be noncommittal when they invited her to dinner. It was better this way. Although she might have entertained a little flirtation with Olivia over the past few weeks, actually touching her sparked a different reaction in Savannah. She enjoyed the feeling of Olivia in her arms far too much even though it was brief and arguably protective in nature. She wasn’t even going to delve into the momentary flames she saw when Reagan was so flippant with Olivia’s safety. That was an introspection for another day. It was decided. Touching Olivia was something else entirely, and Savannah needed to keep her hands and mind in check.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia probably would have launched the water bottle that was on the drafting table at Reagan had she not been momentarily stunned by the warm hands around her waist. In all the weeks that they had worked together, Savannah had only touched her twice: once at the bar to stop her from paying, and then again, right now. Savannah’s hand settled at her lower back and stayed there as she admonished Reagan. It grounded her.

  When Savannah pulled her hand away, Olivia looked up at her. The expression on Savannah’s face was unreadable, but her eyes, her eyes were so interesting. They were blue, but they were gray, too. And they were brewing with something, like a slow rolling storm was moving through them. Olivia was disappointed when Savannah left without agreeing to join them for dinner. She was disappointed with herself for feeling disappointed, too.

  They pored over the specs for a little longer before the guys decided to go to an off-site steak restaurant that Ernesto had pointed out before. The ladies decided to head back to the hotel and try out the lounge downstairs.

  Reagan and Farrah were already sitting in a booth by the time Olivia got down to the restaurant in the hotel lobby. Farrah was laughing about something one of her daughters had posted on Facebook and was showing a video to Reagan. Reagan was smiling like an idiot at the screen in front of her.

  “What could possibly give you that shit-eating grin, Reagan?” Olivia teased as she slipped into the seat.

  “It’s only the funniest video of a kitten and a puppy fighting over a cheese stick ever. In the whole world. I checked.” Reagan crossed her heart to make it official.

  “You have such a
soft spot for animals. You better watch out, or it’ll kill your reputation for being a badass.” Olivia looked over the drink menu.

  Farrah piped in with a hearty laugh. “If only all those poor women knew that little Reagan was a softy.”

  Reagan pouted, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. “Are we picking on Reagan tonight? Because if we are, I might go make friends at the bar with that hot ass in the black skirt.” She nodded toward the silhouette of a woman at the edge of the bar, shrouded in darkness except for her impossibly tight skirt and killer red heels.

  “Oh, yeah?” Olivia challenged. “And what makes you think she’s going to fall for your game? I mean, we’re in Denver. No home-field advantage for you, my friend.”

  Reagan leaned back in her seat and quirked an eyebrow at Olivia. “You wanna make a wager, Dawson? Because I bet you a Scorpion Bowl that I can get her number in two drinks or less.”

  Farrah scoffed. “Are you serious? Hanging out with you two is like attending a frat boy convention of idiocy.”

  Reagan feigned offense and shot Olivia another daring glance. “What do you say, Liv? Drinks on you if I get the digits?”

  Olivia knew Reagan could be charming when she wasn’t being a total jerk, but there was no way in hell that perfect ass in that unbelievable skirt was going to fall for her charms. No way in hell. “You’re on. And if you don’t get them, in two drinks or less, dinner is on you.”

  “Dinner?” Reagan leaned forward mockingly. “Ooh, you drive a hard bargain, Dawson. But since I am convinced I got this in the bag, you’re on.” She extended her hand to Olivia to shake, only to pull it back at the last minute and sweep it through her dark hair with a laugh. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait for me to order—I think I see something much better than what’s on the menu.”