Rosy was perfect but I had somehow never allowed myself to be at the hands of perfection. Because it hadn’t occurred to me that things would change. That one day, my old habits of cheating and discarding women like tissues would screech to a frantic stop.
But boy did it sting. It almost felt like a death had occurred. The death of my remaining sliver of sanity.
Brazil had taught me that I was too weak to hide from my urges. The women there had been beautiful but they weren’t her.
No one was her.
I searched for Rosy in the eyes of every empty-hearted woman. I projected Rosy’s sweet personality onto foreign eyes and faces. But there was never the same innocence, the same guilelessness that I’d seen in Rosy.
All I had wanted was to do was to protect her, but I’d ended up doing the opposite. I had reached right into her chest and ripped out her heart. Her heart was the most beautiful part of her and I’d killed it.
I was drowning in guilt and pain. My nights were long and bleak and full of pacing, and void of any sleep.
The Grand no longer could pacify my racing thoughts and anxiety. The bustle and never-ending action only trapped me in a cycle of noise and confusion.
Two days after seeing Rosy, I had gone to The Grand in a weak attempt to resume my old habits and it hadn’t worked. If anything, seeing her again only amped up the pounding in my head. Dealing with unruly guests had never been so unsatisfying.
I was no longer the guy who could solve all problems and still get guests to fall in love with me afterwards. My charm had vanished. I’d retreated to my office and shut the door, desperate for a little peace and quiet.
Alicia came banging on my door. The sound jolted me from my quiet space and I narrowed my eyes as my assistant strode into my office.
“What?” I asked flatly.
“Mr. Steele? There’s a guest who’s complaining about his room. Something about the wallpaper,” Alicia added. She wrinkled her nose and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I knew she was waiting for me to invite her inside.
I sighed loudly, still unmoving in my chair.
“I see. Really? That’s all the news you have?”
Alicia bustled inside with sweat sliding down her chubby face. Her cheeks were flushed a burgundy color, and her usual tight bun was quite unruly.
“Mr. Henri said he demanded white gold trimmings for his romantic retreat, but was disappointed to find plain gold.” She pursed her lips. “And he’s a very important guest, isn’t he?”
I looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. Alicia squirmed on the spot.
“Sir,” she said, huffing and puffing. “What should I do?”
I rolled my eyes and pulled a cigar out of my desk drawer. I lit it slowly, not caring that Alicia was waiting.
“Tell him he’ll just have to make do with what he’s given.”
I would typically go above and beyond all measures to make sure my hotel guests were pleased with their rooms. I knew Mr. Henri from a golfing tournament. He was at The Grand to celebrate his marriage to his hot new wife who was younger than him by twenty years.
I snorted then at the irony. She was twenty-two, and he was forty-six. I guess I was jealous of his freedom to marry the woman of his dreams. Because I had hurt mine, devastating Rosy by entering her life again.
Alicia shifted nervously and cleared her throat.
“With all due respect Mr. Steele, that is not what we do here.”
I looked up and glared at the frazzled Alicia. She avoided my gaze, keeping her eyes glued on the red carpet.
I finally waved my hand at her to get her out of my office.
“Do whatever then.”
My heart wasn’t in The Grand that day. My heart belonged in Rosy’s palms to be cherished and cared for.
I tried to do my best to finish my work and make the appropriate calls, but I simply couldn’t. I really just didn’t care anymore. Things that had once seemed so important now seemed dull and pale by comparison.
My office was no longer the safe space of serenity and escape from the shrill of the outside world. It seemed to close in on me, shrinking me into nothing but the sad, pathetic monster I had been my entire life.
I assumed that was my karma. It was coming back to haunt me.
And now, my thoughts turned back to the beautiful girl. The last time I’d been with her had been amazing. The mystique and uncertainty of furtively making love in the school library was such a turn on. Just her, surrendering to me behind the stacks. Just thinking about it now was enough to get me hard.
It sounds stupid, but I had been shocked at her beauty all over again. Rosy had always been gorgeous, but getting her a new wardrobe had been the right call. And it was no wonder that little shit Cris had fallen for her.
She’d looked so sexy in that little miniskirt paired with a blouse. The top had been just a touch too small, and the sight of Rosy’s magnificent curves had awakened the beast inside of me.
My cock was immediately hard at the thought of her. Her ass had felt so good too, tight and horny, and her lips had tasted fresh and inviting.
But it was all wrong. I knew I was wrong for confronting her, for taking her and loving her into oblivion once again. My plan had been to set things straight, but seeing her in the flesh reminded me how weak she made me.
Her eyes seemed to pierce through me, drawing me back into her world. She was different, though.
She was defiant. She was no longer that soft spoken girl who looked down at her feet when she spoke. She was full of fire and light, and she was no longer my prey. Somehow our time apart had placed her in a cocoon of confidence and maturity.
It was a turn-on for sure, like watching a butterfly unfurl its wings and take flight. I wanted her even more, the longing in my chest expanding into an overwhelming ache. Why had I been so stupid?
My guilt was driving me to commit serious crimes and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to start distancing myself from everything I’d worked so hard to build. Everything important in my life would fall to the ground and perish in a heap of dust if my guilt wasn’t repaired.
I had to get out of The Grand. Staying here would drive me insane. These thoughts unchecked would drive me insane. I snatched my coat from the hanger and dashed out of my office, and through the large swinging front doors.
My only antidote to my pain was drowning it in alcohol.
I quickly rang my driver to be outside in fifteen minutes. I was in desperate need of a drink. I craved the sensation of it burning my throat and washing the pain away. Finally, I heard my phone buzz and sighed deeply. Relief washed over me like a waterfall. The car pulled up to the curb.
I ordered the driver to take me to my favorite bar, La Alamode. It was a quiet, dimly-lit bar where tons of big time spenders liked to bring their young, hot dates for the night. But now, idling outside of La Alamode only brought back those shitty memories. It was the battle ground where I had brought girl after girl to reel them in and get what I wanted from them.
I couldn’t count the number of women I had deceived. Being young and rich, I was so proud of my adventures. The women were just a touch of fun. I conquered and destroyed them, and it made me feel like a man.
But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t anything, and it had taken me years to realize that. Now, at forty-five, I felt like an idiot at my old stomping grounds.
I staggered into the bar with my hand over my eyes to shield me from the sun. Going inside was like entering a hole of despair, albeit one with good booze.
As soon as I was inside the usual bartender waved me over with a wide, toothy grin.
“Hey there, Steele! Haven’t seen you in a while!”
I nodded and walked to the bar with my hand poised on my wallet. I was ready to blow a shitload of money on overpriced booze.
“Hit me with the strongest you’ve got,” I muttered as I slid into a chair at the bar. “I need to black out.”
Drew nodded his head in understanding.
/>
“Long day, big guy?” He asked as he started to whip up a deathly conclusion of memory loss and vodka.
“Like no other.” Drew slid me a shot and I greedily slurped it down before pushing the glass back.
“Did you lose money or something?”
I shook my head. I knew I shouldn’t spill my business, but it was too late. I was far too wounded to keep my mouth shut.
“Women,” I grunted as I took another shot.
Drew snorted with appreciation.
“I hear ya. Let me make this one a triple,” he said. “But women love you, man. They go right to you like moths to a flame.”
I laughed bitterly and sucked on a lime.
“I had the light, though. She was better than them all, and I fucked it up.”
Drew fell silent and poured me another shot, then slid it towards me. He leaned in and looked all around before speaking.
“Did you...hit her?”
I snapped my head up with disgust at such an accusation.
“Fuck you,” I growled. “I would never touch a woman unless she wanted it. Where do you even get off saying shit like that?”
Drew threw his hands up in defense, shrugging.
“Hey man, I was just asking. I know you rich fellas have tempers. But tell me about it then. What was she like?”
I sighed and took another shot. My head was starting to spin and my throat burned, but I was nowhere near done with drinking. I wasn’t numb enough, and memories were still flowing through me.
“Dark curly hair, beautiful. Real beautiful,” I blubbered with a wistful gleam in my eyes.
“Damn, she sounds hot. Why’d you let it go then?”
Silence fell over me as Drew’s words echoed in my ears. Why did I let her go? Because I was a coward? Because Rosy was too good for me? Because of her dad?
It seemed as if I could never find the right answers.
I shrugged and tried to think of a good lie, but nothing came to mind. I kept my eyes glued on my shot with Rosy’s smile playing in my head.
“Who knows,” I said morosely. “Life happens. Shit happens. That’s what gets in the way.”
Drew slid two more shots my way and patted me on the shoulder.
“Well there’s many more fish in the sea, buddy. Take it easy on the shots, you already look like shit.”
I gave Drew a weary thumbs-up as my head started to spin faster and faster. I was seconds from falling on the floor, and right as my legs started to give out, I felt a pair of arms hoist me back up.
“Shit, thanks Drew,” I said, completely slurring my words together.
“It’s not Drew.” The voice sounded so familiar, and when I turned I saw it was Gabriel, my old driver.
My jaw dropped as I stood face to face with the aged Gabriel. He wasn’t in his usual sharp black suit. He had on a blue jacket with a hat pulled low over his face. His eyes were tired and bloodshot red.
“Gabriel, what happened to you?” I asked with shock in my voice. Gabriel sighed and took a seat next to me.
“The driving company let me go. Told me I was too old.”
My stomach twisted at the sound of his news. I felt bad. I was aware that he had been dealing with the early stages of arthritis, but I didn’t know it had gotten that bad.
“I’m so sorry, man. Buy you a drink?”
Gabriel shrugged and took one of my shots and slugged it down. He grunted and turned towards me.
“No need to feel sorry about me, Steele. I’m seventy-five, so it was bound to happen. You know what keeps me afloat though?”
“What?”
“My wife, Marcina. She’s the light of my life.”
I felt a huge pang in my chest and hung my head.
“Well that’s good for you,” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
“I was fifty-six, and she was thirty-two when we met. Everyone thought I was crazy for dating such a young woman, and it was right, you know? From the very beginning. She saved me from myself.”
I stared at Gabriel with wide eyes. I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. I immediately thought about Rosy and our age gap. The age difference wasn’t a huge thing to me, but I did wonder what others would think. I felt ridiculous now.
“Well, that’s a beautiful story. But I’m not sure how it pertains to me.”
Gabriel slid his chair closer to mine and grabbed the shot glass out of my hands. He slammed the glass down on the bar so hard I thought it would break.
“It pertains because I know how you feel about Rosy. She was my last client before I was let go, and the only thing she ever asked about was you. Even a blind man could see how much she loved you.”
“You … what?” I asked. “What are you saying?”
Gabriel shrugged.
“I picked Rosy up from the cabin and drove her back here. The whole way, she was miserable. Only asked questions about you, which by the way, I didn’t answer. You let that go? Man, you’re one fucked up piece of shit.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but then shut it tight. He was right. I was fucked up.
“You don’t understand how hard it is though,” I growled. “I’ve never been able to commit. I’d only hurt her in the long run.
“You think running away from her is better?” he asked skeptically, eyeing my frame. “Again, fucked up.”
I fell quiet. As much as I hated to admit it, Gabriel was right. I was running away from her, and it wasn’t saying anything. I had just broken Rosy’s heart, and sent her straight into the douchebag arms of Cris Lovington again.
“I guess not. But I can’t get hurt. I’m empty but it’s familiar.”
Gabriel got up and pulled a wrinkled one hundred dollar bill on the table. He placed a wrinkled hand on my shoulder and squeezed it tightly.
“You’re only empty because you allow yourself to be. Pick who you want to be.” Gabriel slowly walked away, grabbing his leather coat that was laying on the chair behind us. “Think about someone else for once.”
“Gabriel,” I said weakly, reaching for the crumpled money with a shaking hand. “Let me get this.”
Gabriel shook his head. “No,” he said. “Let me. You’re the one who’s bankrupt.”
As I watched him leave the bar, the hole in my heart felt bigger than ever. He was right though. I needed to see her. I wasn’t content with being this way forever. I was morally bankrupt and lying to myself. I needed Rosy bad, and had been feeding myself lies that only grew so twisted, that I couldn’t keep them straight in my head.
When I turned around to face the bar again, the sight of the empty glasses filled me with disgust. What was I doing?
I pulled out a wad of cash and threw it on the bar, then got up and started to make my way towards the door. The sunlight was breaking through the windows of the bar, making little squares of light on the floor. I needed to see her.
As I put my hand on the door, a rush of determination pushed through me and I felt stronger than I’d felt in twenty years.
The Dirty Hotel King Page 24
