“Alright, meet here at 11:30 tomorrow for uniform shopping.”
All the guys groan in unison.
I laugh out loud every time. Typical men.
As Paul is cleaning up his signed waivers for training, I speak first.
“The girls all want in your pants already . . . not surprised,” I say trying to lighten the mood a little after how we left the closing of the meeting.
“Well, like I said, May. I’m taken . . . aren’t I?” He’s asking me.
“We’ve never talked about it, Paul. Why are you springing a loaded question on me now . . . and here of all places?”
Wait, why didn’t I say of course? Of course you are taken, Paul!
“Jesus, May . . . are we still going to play at this?” Exhaling loudly, he turns to me.
“I love you, you know that. And I know you love me too, dammit. What the hell is it? You scarred? That I’m going to hurt you or turn my back on you . . . on us?”
He’s pissed.
“You think you are the only one in this that has something to lose, and you couldn’t be more wrong. Do you know how huge this is for me? What a big step this is for me?”
I say nothing; he’s on a roll.
“Tell you what . . . when you figure out what it is that you want, you let me know.”
I reach my hand out and put it on his forearm.
“Paul, you know I love you, and I know it too. But what if we make this commitment, and it doesn’t work, or one of us slips up? Why do we have to put a label on this? Do you know how detrimental that would be to us? Our friendship . . . fifteen years. Our business . . . almost five years now. And wh–”
“If one of us slips up?” It’s a whisper. “Slips up?” he yells, punching the table. “You think I would cheat on you?” he says a little quieter, but still loudly. “Tell me something, May . . . how can I cheat on the love of my life?”
He’s staring at me in pain and exhaustion, waiting for an answer. When I don’t give him anything, he throws the keys to the car to me.
“See you when I see you,” he says over his shoulder, and he’s out the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Paul left the room key in the car, so making my way back to the hotel was long because I kept thinking about how and when Paul would get back. When he doesn’t come back within a couple of hours, I take a brief nap, if you want to call it that, and then I take a shower to try and wash the morning away. Nope. It didn’t work. He was coming back to the hotel wasn’t he?
I drown myself in paperwork: shift times, cameras, keys, section map outs. What usually takes us a full week to do, I got done in a mere eight hours, although, I did take the occasional food and stretch break.
I silently pray that he would come back to the room, so we could at least talk and clear the air.
After I toss and turn until about one in the morning, Paul still isn’t back, and sleep is going to be non-existent for me. I have always struggled with my insomnia, but add everything that is going on with Paul to the mix, and it is safe to say, it would all equal me not getting sleep anytime soon.
So with that dreaded feeling, I put on my workout clothes and head down to the twenty-four hour gym next to the lobby. After a good but stress-filled workout and a solid hour on the treadmill, I call it a night and make my way out of the gym to go back to the room. I have to cross the main lobby to get to the elevator, and as I reach the entry, I am stopped dead in my tracks as though I just walked into a glass wall.
Paul is stumbling into the front sliding glass door of the hotel. Christ, is he drunk?
Shaking my head, I let out a heavy sigh and start to take a step towards him to give him a hand. I hear the single worst thing I could ever hear in this situation: “Paul! PAUL, you forgot your jacket!”
Amber. Son of a bitch.
My stomach drops into the soles of my feet. You have got to be kidding me.
When Amber reaches Paul, they wrap each other’s arm around one another, and Paul lifts her in the air to his height and kisses her, much like he has done with me many, many times. That hurts.
While they embrace, I step out into the lobby because I just don’t want to see any more.
“Hi, May! Late workout or what?” Amber asks me after my fake cough causes their kiss to end. When she acknowledges me there, Paul slides Amber down him, so she is back on her feet and turns to look at me.
“Hi. Yeah, I’ve got a lot of work later today, so I wanted to get it done and out of the way,” I say to Amber with a fake smile on my face, not looking at Paul.
Yup, I’m dying.
When nothing else is said, I turn and say, “Y'all have a good night . . . See y'all later.”
Turn, walk away, get on elevator.
“Paul, why don’t we blow off the meeting tomorrow and go back out for more drinks and definitely more dancing,” Amber says.
He’s been dancing with her? Seriously, I’m dying.
I don’t wait for his answer. I just get on the perfectly timed elevator and head up to our room.
I know I caused all this when I didn’t give Paul an answer, so I shouldn’t be upset. The tears fall anyway. It hurts like hell.
When I walk into the room, I can’t bear to see all the places that we have made love, so I call down to the front desk. They accommodate me with another room and inform me that I can come and collect the key whenever I am ready.
“No. Can someone bring it up to me, please? I am still getting my things together.”
“Of course. I’ll send someone up right now.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as I hang up, I fly around the room getting all my things together. Papers, clothes, laptop, everything that’s mine, so he won’t be reminded of how much I have hurt him. It’s only now that I realize that I should leave him a note. He does worry, but does he still?
Paul,
I figured you might want some privacy, so I have gotten another room.
See you when I see you.
May
I place his car keys on the bottom of the note just as a knock comes on the door. The nice bellman hands me my new room key and helps me with my belongings, while informing me that my new room is a mere two doors down. I take one last look around the room to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything and then close the door behind me. Not knowing what to do with the room key, I just drop it on the floor under the door handle. I’m sure he will see it.
I say thank you to the bellman as he puts my things at my new door and place a tip in his hand. He, in turn, thanks me and is on his way to the elevators.
I put my key in the door, swing it open, and throw my things in one by one. I hear the elevator open and people laughing. Shit. I move into my room, and I close my door until there is an inch or two left and Paul comes into view. Amber is at his heels with her arms around his waist. When they get to his door, they hug and kiss a very loud kiss before Paul searches his pockets. He stops when he sees the key on the floor. He reaches down and picks it up. After he stands straight back up, he looks at it and laughs while giving his head a little shake. Turning around to Amber, she returns his smile.
“Well, Ms. Amber, it seems that I am very much up for grabs,” Paul says, shaking the card in from of him.
She flies onto him, wraps her legs around his waist, and latches on to his neck. He turns, opens the door, and they disappear into to it with lips locked together.
I close my door and flop onto one of the beds. At least he’s physically safe.
Jesus, that’s what I say to reassure myself of the situation. I am really fucked in the head. Yeah, sure you can walk all over me like I’m a doormat, no problem. What is the matter with me?
I stay laying on my back for about an hour before I jerk up off the bed. I grab my room key and the envelope that contains something that I have worked up and head out the door.
That’s not how this is going to end, that’s for damn sure.
I walk two doors down and calmly knoc
k. Paul answers it wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs. I fix my eyes on his. I didn’t really think about what I was going to say, and now that I am here and looking at him, words fail me. I open my mouth to say something.
“Paaaaaaul! Come back to bed. I need more of that sex,” Amber whines.
I close my mouth at that. I look down the hallway to try to think of something, but nothing comes to mind. So I just hold the envelope up to Paul. He takes it without a word.
“Now, Paul!” Amber and her fucking voice.
I tilt my head down and to the right a little expressing my disappointment that we aren’t going to talk about this. With that, Paul then backs up and closes the door. It’s at this moment I know what is happening.
Drunk or not, It’s over.
Waking up in my workout clothes, in a different room, and very much alone only cements that last night was real, and that it did in fact hurt like hell. I barely slept, so I get up to half-ass everything. I shower and put on my makeup, clothes, and flip flops. I called a rental car place earlier, and they have already called back to inform me that they are out front of the hotel and waiting for my signature.
I collect my things off the counter and head for the door. When I pull it open, bits of paper scatter around. I look at it, and then I know exactly what it is. It’s my resignation from the business and an offer for Paul to buy my half that was in the envelope I gave him last night. He doesn’t want to end this? Why the hell not? I think it’s better to get out now before one of us gets hurt even more than we already are, or someone says something that can’t be taken back.
Shaking my head, I slide all the pieces into my room with my foot, close my door, and make my way down the hall.
Step, step, step. It’s a new mantra of mine, especially for this type of situation. After I am out of the elevator, I haul ass out of the hotel, sign for my rental, and drive away.
Just go to work. That’s why I’m here, right? Work, not fall in love, not get my heart ripped out and destroyed before my eyes. Work.
I arrive at McCall’s and thank God I have on my sunglasses. I haven’t been crying all night, I am just so tired that the bags under my eyes could carry groceries, and I don’t want anyone to see them. I park, get out, and head over to where everyone is gathered. All the girls and about half of the guys are here already. Correction, make that all the girls but one. Great. I guess Paul took her up on her offer. When the rest of the guys show up, I address the group about where we are going and the goal at hand.
“Alright, let’s get this over and done with,” I say as I turn and head to my car.
“Hey, we don’t have Amber,” Jessica announces.
Shit.
“She called me a little bit ago. Said she hooked a hottie last night and is too sore to walk around shopping. I know her size, so I’m just going to pick up her clothes for her,” Tiffany squawks.
Fantastic.
“I heard it was Paul,” Brittany contributes.
This gets better and better.
“May, do you know anything? I mean should we be worried or anything like that?” Jessica asks, genuinely concerned.
“No, they are fine . . . I’m pretty sure they are still at the hotel,” I say to Jessica, trying to sound reassuring, but I think it comes off as annoyed. I can’t really tell.
Ohhs and Ahhs fill the air by everyone, except Jessica who is now staring at me like I just punched her in the face.
Welcome to my world, Jess.
“C’mon, y'all. I’ve got to get y'all looking good for Friday night.”
I leave my phone in the car on purpose. Work, work, work, May.
McCall’s colors are a pool-table-felt green and black, so that’s what I am going for with the uniforms. I outfit the guys in short sleeved button-downs, which are very close to McCall’s green, and black slacks. I pair those with a leather belt and thick soled, black leather military style boots. They each get four sets of each except the shoes, and I send them on their way. They have all agreed that it was pretty painless, and that they looked great. I’m happy for them, but sad for me because I know the easiest part of my day is done.
I knew the girls were going to take way longer; they always do. Hair and eye color, complexion, body shape, and size all come into play when trying to piece a uniform on which all of them agree. Frilly pieces of cloth are thrown in front of me with, “What about this?” asked so many times that after five hours, I have scratched letting them help with ideas. I have decided to dress them in all black except with a green belt to match the guy’s shirts, and they are getting the same boots as the guys, only more feminine, of course.
At the end of the shopping day, everyone is happy, so in turn, I am happy for them. They all do look great. I say goodbye to the girls and get into my rental. I pick up and unlock my phone out of habit and am further hurt when I see that Paul has sent exactly nothing. No calls, no texts, not even an email. I know he is hurting just as much as I am, if not more, so why hasn’t he tried to get ahold of me? Maybe he just moved the hell on and didn’t ask any questions. I set my phone down, put my head back against the headrest, and grip the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles turn white.
“SHIT!” I scream and the top of my lungs.
Oh my, that felt good. Maybe I should do that once a day, or maybe all day every day.
Pulling myself together on the drive back wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be even when I thought how this is the longest that Paul and I have gone without even speaking to each other. Last night we didn’t talk, Amber took care of that.
I pull into the hotel and see Paul’s car is in a different spot than where I parked it. So they did come up for air after all. Good for them. I roll my eyes.
As I walk into the lobby, I don’t know why, but I look towards the gym. It’s all glass, so I can see all the machines and occupants. I stop involuntarily. There he is, running on the treadmill, shirtless. Well, that’s a beautiful insult to my injury. I don’t want him to catch me watching him, so I make way towards the elevators.
“MAY!” I hear him yelling from all the way across the hotel.
Nope. No, no way. Nuh huh.
I step on the elevator, hit my floor, and lean back against the rail, trying to regain my balance. I see him running towards me and as the doors start to close, he is about to the middle of the lobby when he stops. He shoves both his hands into his hair and shouts, “Please?” at me.
Absolutely not, and the doors close.
I get into my room and flip the deadbolt. I don’t think he knows what room I am in, but it still makes me feel better to lock him out as much as I can. Looking at the clock, I see that it’s 8 p.m. Damn, that was a long day of shopping. I order room service and rent a movie to calm the evening down a little. After the movie, I take a shower and curl up into my bed alone. I push the dread of having to see Paul tomorrow at training out of my mind. Maybe I’ll use Amber as a demonstration dummy. With that idea, a small smile is on my face. I drift off to a well-deserved sleep. No insomnia for me tonight.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My phone is ringing, but when I grab my cell, I realize that it’s the hotel phone calling my with my wake up call.
After I hang up, I just sit on the edge of my bed, willing myself to get up and get moving. I want to get a workout in before I go to training, and then I realize that I can’t.
I just can’t see him.
Having that awful thought in my head, I call back down to the front desk. I am going to scrap the whole damn day. I did all the paperwork and planning out by myself, not to mention the most god-awful shopping trip ever, so you know what, he can have them all to himself today.
“Hi, this is May Young in room 1012. Can you relay a message to Paul Morris in room 1008 for me please?”
“Yes, ma’am, of course. The message?”
“Please let him know that I am feeling a little sick and that I won’t be making the training today. Oh, by the way, does he know what my n
ew room number is?” I ask curiously.
“No, ma’am . . . I am the one that delivered the . . . uh . . . message to you from Mr. Morris.” He sounds embarrassed.
“Oh, okay . . . Well, please make sure he doesn’t know my room number.”
“Yes, ma’am . . . of course.”
“Please call me May.”
“Yes ma’–I mean, May. I will be sure to give Mr. Morris the message.”
“Thank you . . . bye.”
With that, I fall back in bed and back to my sleep.
Waking up a couple of hours later feels wonderful. I needed it seeing how ever since Paul happened, I haven’t exactly been going to bed at my regular time.
For the first time in a long time, my day isn’t scheduled. I have nothing to do today, but I would like to get out of the hotel. So I get up, shower, and get dressed with a little more ease because I know Paul is already gone for the day.
Stopping at the front desk to ask a quick question, I see a slightly on edge desk clerk.
“Afternoon?” I test.
“H–Hi, afternoon, ma’am.”
Something has this guy’s underwear in some serious knots.
“I told the other guy I talked to earlier to please call me May, if that’s okay?”
“Yes . . . hello, May . . . that was me. I didn’t know what you looked like,” he says. He still looks off.
“Are you okay?”
“Mr. Morris is a very . . . uh . . . passionate man.”
Oh hell.
“What did he do?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I wasn’t on duty, but the other clerk explained what happened. I didn’t believe him until I came in and saw it for myself. Apparently, after you didn’t speak to Mr. Morris yesterday, he . . . well . . . he decided to take it out on our building,” he says, motioning his head to somewhere behind me.
I turn to look at where he has motioned, and I see workers replacing a spider cracked window in the workout area. Paul decided he was going to punch said wall in hopes of feeling better, that or just be an immature child. Great.
Need You, Need Me (The Need Series Book 1) Page 9
