by TN King
This is a bad idea. Geeze Ellie, you are full of those…bad ideas.
She supposed she at least needed to give herself credit for this one not being as intense as running back into a burning building, but still. She hadn’t even realized that she was turning away from the lobby until that thought occurred to her, feet stilling and her eyes closing briefly. That had been a bad idea, even if it had been for a good cause. If she hadn’t have gone back into that burning diner though she might never have met Morgan. Which, as silly as it was, she was still glad she had. Now here she was, with his phone that had been dropped literally at her feet, and his assistant who had literally told her where he would be today.
She wasn’t big into signs, premonitions and the like but this was as about as close as a person got to that. She turned back around slowly, facing the lobby once more and taking a deep, steadying breath. Come on. You can do this. You have to do this. She had promised the assistant after all… she adjusted her skinny white patent leather belt so that the silver belt buckle was facing outwards, did one last cursory smoothing of whatever wrinkles might be in the skirt of her dress, and walked forward. She was just returning a phone. That was all.
She approached the front desk with as little timidity as she could manage, smiling widely at the lady behind the desk before she had even looked up to notice that Ellie was there. She was returning a phone. This was business. And she still needed to actually thank Morgan for saving her life. Like a checklist in her head, she repeated those facts before reading the nametag in front of her. It never hurt to be kind to those that normally went overlooked. “Hello, Marge,” kind but business-oriented, she was trying to be both. “I’m here to return a cell phone to Mr. Morgan Hunt.”
The strawberry blond haired lady who sat behind the desk paused her typing away at the computer keyboard to look up at her. She was cute, obviously trendy, matching to the decor and the clientele around her easily. Even her thick, black-rimmed, reading glasses attached to a silver chain that she wore about her neck were in style, the kind of vogue look that people spent hundreds on these days. She looked Ellie up and down, her lips pursing slightly before she finally addressed her. “Do you have a room here?” Sounding about as sure of the answer as her face looked to be.
“No,” Ellie answered cautiously. Why would that matter? “I just need to return his phone.” Again trying for a polite, disinterested kindness that would better fit the situation.
“Well, we can take that for you and send it right up to him,” Marge suggested blandly, again looking Ellie up and down as if she found something lacking.
Ellie hesitated. Maybe that would be for the best, she had already almost walked out on her own on more than one occasion, maybe this was her final escape that she was meant to take. She chewed on her lower lip while she thought, worrying away at it until Marge interrupted by clearing her throat impatiently, still peering at her over the top of her glasses as if she was taking up too much of her time.
Ellie looked up at her and buoyed her false courage. “I’d like to deliver it myself,” she said, trying to exude a confidence that she didn’t feel in the slightest. She needed to thank him. She reminded herself sternly. He had saved her life, this was the least she could do.
Marge arched a brow, obviously displeased with her answer. Although there didn’t seem to be very much she could do about it, swiveling in her chair to reach for the phone to her right. “Very well. I’ll just call up and let him know you’re coming,” she said instead and offered Ellie a snooty grin.
“Okay,” Ellie replied, avoiding the temptation to roll her eyes. This lady was nowhere near as helpful as Loretta had been, or as kind. These people who thought they were superior just because of where they worked or their own bank account balance. It never mattered, she ran into at least one every day, maybe two. Like they were anything better based off of their calculations alone. Yes, she lived in a rundown apartment, but she had her qualities. She didn’t need a high bank balance or the latest, trendiest gadgets to prove that. Screw this lady. Now she definitely wanted to take the phone up herself because Marge, for some reason, wanted to give her a hard time for doing so. She could have just said, ‘No problem, ma’am. Go right ahead.’ It’s not like she couldn’t find the penthouse suite on her own. It was at the very top of the building.
Ellie tried to calm down, taking a deep breath in through her nose. She wasn’t very fond of how quickly she reacted to things and she certainly wasn’t trying to allow her temper to come out and interfere with what she was attempting to do here.
“Good evening, Mr. Hunt. This is Marge at the front desk. How are you this evening? Is everything to your liking?”
Oh, boy. This lady was really laying it on, her little giggle at the end of her sentence almost diabetic in its sugar balance. She was even leaning forward in her chair, despite him not being able to see her, twirling one end of her hair girlishly. Ellie distracted herself by glancing at the modern art that hung on the wall next to her, trying not to gag at Marge’s antics. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. All this staggering wealth, these people with their Gucci, Armani and—
“That’s wonderful!” Marge simpered into the phone. “Well, the reason for this call is to inform you that a young lady says she’s here to return your cell phone,” she sounded doubtful, and was dripping concern into her every word. “Do you know anything about this?” Marge peered at Ellie from the top of her glasses again, pausing in whatever she was about to say and instead stuttering out a, “Her name?”
Ellie’s eyes widened, her stomach dropping. “He wouldn’t know me,” she blurted out hurriedly. “I mean, we just met. It’s not like he’d remember.” She shook her head, pleading with her eyes for Marge to just drop the name business and allow her to get past it, to say anything really. Suddenly her nerves were coursing through her even more heavily, her palms heating as she again smoothed down her dress.
“Well, she says you wouldn’t remember her and she seems very anxious about saying her name,” Marge said into the phone, smiling victoriously at Ellie from around it like she had just won some sort of contest.
Oh! For the love of…Ellie gave Marge a tight lipped smile, refusing to rise to her antics, and said, “Ellie. My name is Ellie.” Just as rushed as she had everything else. If he even remembered her, it was probably vaguely, why would he be taking time out of his day to address her? It didn’t matter how nice he had seemed, she was sure he was a busy man who—
“She says her name is Ellie.” Marge’s expression suddenly changed, her smile dropping somewhat and her eyes becoming pinched. “Oh. Send her right up? Well, alright, I’ll tell her.” Marge hung up the receiver and gave Ellie another condescending look from behind her glasses, but her smile was cracked. “Mr. Hunt said for you to go on up.”
Ellie wanted so badly to say, ‘Hah!’ to this old snob, but remembered that she was a lady and instead said, “Why thank you, Marge. It’s been lovely chatting with you.” Ellie wrinkled her nose at her, hung her purse over her arm, and made her way to the elevators. Of course, she felt childish as soon as she reached the elevator, reaching forward and pressing the button that called for it with less put on sass than her previous moves had shown.
As satisfying as that felt, she now realized she was about to see Morgan again, her stomach clenching. Of course, she felt nervous, but it made her happy finding out that he remembered her at least. Or at least in enough of a way to insist that she come on up. Maybe he wanted to check in on her as well, he had shown some degree of concern the day before.
It was something worth thinking about when she entered the elevator, nearly shaking her head at the grandeur of what should have just been a metal box that went from one floor to another. It was all mirrors and gold trim on the inside, the buttons of the elevator themselves decked out in what looked like actual jewels. Surely, they couldn’t be… She pushed the button that said, Penthouse, and then retreated to the far corner. She was, actually, v
ery glad that she was the only person in the elevator, she was afraid she would be trying to make too much small talk in her nervousness otherwise.
She watched the floors change for a minute, from one to two, and two to three, only zoning out once she realized that there were going to be thirty-four of those changes before she reached the penthouse suite. As nervous as she was she didn’t think watching the numbers change that often was going to help. She flailed for a moment, searching for something to do, before turning to anxiously check her appearance in the mirror nearest her. Maybe the red lipstick was a little dark for a midday adventure, but she knew that it looked good in combination with her dress and skin.
Seeing how dark her lipstick was she had tried for understated everywhere else, a quick brushing of mascara and light eyeliner on her eyes, and a faint dusting of blush across her cheekbones the only other makeup she wore. Her hair however she’d taken great pains on, curling it and smoothing out the frizz so as to showcase it. She’d always considered her hair one of her best qualities, the deep-chocolate color and length setting her apart from so many others when she actually took the time to manage it. It fell in carefully curled ringlets today, framing her porcelain neck and shoulders and ending just above her waist. She looked good.
At least she looked good for herself, only after walking through the lobby of the hotel was she having any doubts as to her appearance at all.
Not that she had very much time to worry about such things, the elevator dinging earlier than she had expected it to and the doors sliding open to reveal just as lavish a hallway. Oh, crap. Just beyond that was a door, the only door on the floor, and those butterflies in her belly kicked up into a frenzied crescendo. This was it. There was no turning back now, not due to nerves, not due to worry over her looks… He knew that she was the one bringing his phone up and as Loretta had said, this phone was very important to him and his business.
Fleetingly, she considered putting the phone on the doormat and running. But it was just that, a passing thought that was gone in the blink of an eye, her feet carrying her to the front of the door and her frame freezing again.
I can do this.
It just required actually doing something.
She inhaled sharply, lifting her hand and tapping almost too lightly on the door. Which gave her an out she supposed. If he didn’t answer then she could just-
The door swung inwards, Morgan’s beaming face interrupting whatever hope of a last minute escape she had been going to imagine. His grey eyes were dancing, forcing her own to widen, fighting to keep her gaze solely on them and not the rest of his frame that was suddenly filling the doorway.
“Ellie! Hi,” he greeted, laughter behind his words in a way that she wasn’t even sure if she could comprehend. “I wish I’d known it was you that was coming. I’d have made sure I wasn’t…” He gestured at himself with his hands, referencing his body.
Yes and…oh I’ve been trying not to look.
Almost solely for expecting the exact reaction, she was having now. He didn’t have a shirt on. At all. Perspiration clung to his naked flesh, the muscles in his abdomen rippling just from his speaking alone and proving that her imagination was nowhere as good as reality. He was nearly naked. Although that wasn’t fair, the skimpy pair of running shorts he wore was no worse than most joggers chose in the summer out here, but- she couldn’t help staring.
What is my name? Where am I? Why does he have to be so beautiful? Her thoughts whirled around and she could not seem to grasp one thing enough to stop the tumbling kaleidoscope of crazy that her hormones seemed intent on bringing out. She had no shame, no common decency, and she couldn’t even begin to be upset about it when he was leaning in the doorway like he was. All toned and … Jesus take the wheel. “You must have dropped this yesterday,” she finally blurted out, scrambling to shove her hand down into her purse in order to produce his phone, nearly shoving it at him once her fingers closed around it.
“Thank God,” he professed, grinning all the wider at the sight of his phone. “I thought I had lost it for good,” he admitted, offering her a brilliant smile and taking the phone despite her awkward shoving of it at him. He paused, looking behind him and then back to her, half stepping back as if making room. “Hey, why don’t you come in. Give me just a minute to shower, real quick and…yeah, just come in, and pretend you don’t see the mess.”
Ellie only half-hesitated, standing for a moment and glancing behind her as if any answers lurked behind in the elevator. After a brief pause, she nodded, smiling back at him and stepping through into his suite. His suite that made the rest of the hotel look like a hovel. “Wow,” she gasped, turning in a half circle before she could stop herself. “I mean… just wow.” Words failed her, looking about the vaulted ceilings and pristine wood floors. It looked more like a small home than it did a hotel suite.
Morgan took in her awe, smiling proudly as she stepped further in, again turning in a circle on the spot to take in all of the wonder around her. He didn’t seem in the least bit offended, chuckling at her expression and following her further into the suite. “Yeah. I don’t come up to Philly as often as I’d like to, but when I do, I like to stay here, if I can. I have an apartment in New York City, so I don’t get to stay at that Hunt Hotel too often.” He admitted, following her gaze and admiring for himself the detailed touches that had been added over the years.
Ellie huffed out a breath of air, looking at him in shock before focusing on the painting just on the wall before her, the serene lake and whispering trees captured perfectly on the canvas. “I bet,” she breathed out, “I mean who could blame you?” The place was stunning, even more so than she would have been able to imagine it being. “So, you live in New York?” She moved to the side, trying to draw her attention off of her surroundings and focus back on her host.
“Lake Placid, actually. I have a house there right on the lake.” He nodded behind her to the painting she had been admiring, lips pulling up at one corner.
“Lake Placid. Wow…” She trailed off, equal parts stunned and impressed, with just a small amount of awkwardness leaking in among them. He was so out of her league, but damn if that painting weren’t all kinds of peaceful, her eyes swinging back to it. Lake Placid, what would it be like to own not only one, but multiple homes? She felt the silence growing tense between them, she was sure due to her lack of real response, but she couldn’t help it.
The silence stretched for a few more moments before he cleared his throat and took a half step back. “Yeah, so, I’m gonna grab that shower, okay? You make yourself comfortable. There’s a balcony, over there,” he said and pointed to glass doors behind rich, golden, drapes. “And there’s an entertainment center right over there. Everything is digital. It’s not too hard to figure out.” He smiled easily, nodding towards the entertainment center even as he walked backwards away from her.
Ellie smiled instinctively back, those nerves fluttering in her stomach once more. “Alright,” she agreed, even if she wasn’t quite sure what she was agreeing to. He stared at her for half of a moment before grinning, turning and disappearing through a pair of high double doors that she hadn’t even noticed before. Not that she was able to take everything at once.
Her heartbeat calmed somewhat, eyes rounding the room again. Oh, my god! This place was surreal. He was surreal. Every time she thought that she was wrapping her head around it, he tossed her another curveball or something else happened to highlight the differences between their lives.
She stayed planted to her spot at the entrance while she considered whether or not she should just leave. What did she think would happen? Would he whisk her away from her pathetic little life? That line of thinking was crazy. Like Pretty Woman noire or something else out of that genre. Insane and not plausible in the least. He probably had a date for this very night. Some tall, lithe blonde model type that breathed diamonds and laughed gold.
Dammit though, he was so nice. And he would be expecting her to be here when
he got out of the shower. She couldn’t just bail on him like that, not after everything that he had done for her. She looked around instead, trying not to let the grandeur intimidate her.
His suite was bigger than her tiny apartment, even just the part that she could see from the entrance. And when she saw stairs leading up, she figured it was probably bigger than her entire apartment complex altogether. It was a palace, not a suite.
Her whole life she’d dreamed about just having enough. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have everything. No one she’d ever known had anything comparable. She had thought it was impressive that some people owned more than one car. She was constantly amazed by those who came through the diner talking about owning their own home even.
She flinched when she realized the direction her thoughts were taking, chiding herself firmly. What are you a freakin’ gold digger? Get some pride, Ellie. You need to stay on planet earth. His wealth shouldn’t matter, the man saved your life, and you need to remember to thank him and then leave. She needed to stick to the plan, stop letting material objects, and … well, Morgan shirtless get in the way of her remembering it.
She looked around again, taking in the details and stepping slightly forward. Might as well look and enjoy something she’d never seen up close, or would ever see again. She certainly wasn’t regularly invited to places this nice... Wow, this place even had its own fireplace, and not that dinky, little faux ones that people were so into buying these days either. It was all granite and natural stone, even the grate in front of it looked stylish.
And above it, a painting of a provocative nude woman eerily gazing out at the spectator. Ellie liked art, at one point she had even considered taking art classes in college. Not for any particular goal, but because of how much she enjoyed it. This one above his fireplace was definitely interesting. The look on the woman’s face was haunting, grabbing her attention and holding it. She studied it while she waited for Morgan, too overwhelmed by the churning feeling within her gut as she looked at the painting to continue her perusal of his penthouse.
