Page 7 of The Problem with Princes
Texie standsup when the lady behind the counter hands over a paper wrapper with two pieces of baklava inside. Texie giggles as she cradles the pastries. I think she might be in love. “Okay. Now we can go.”
“Let me grab my water and box off the table. Just a sec.” I walk quickly to the patio, searching up and down the street one last time. I don’t see anything. But I feel like someone is watching me. Maybe it’s just the driver in the SUV across the street.
I snatch up my stuff and head toward the front door.
“Hey, where is my hot chocolate?” Texie asks as she walks behind me out onto the sidewalk.
“Uhhh.” I can’t believe I forgot the hot chocolate. What am I supposed to tell her? “They were out.” I drop my head to the side and push out my lips in a pout, like I’m very disappointed.
She looks at me through squinty eyes. “What’s up with you? You’re all jumpy and nervous.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I laugh it off, like it is a completely unfounded accusation.
We walk in the direction of the hotel.
“Oh, and don’t think you have me fooled. I know you’re lying about the hot chocolate. You’ve never been a good liar.” She gives me a side look and eyebrow raise. Wow. A double look. “If you weren’t going to get hot chocolate, why’d you go over there?”
She gives a nod and a little scoff as we walk past the SUVs.
I respond with a little huff and an eyeroll. She isn’t the only one who can give the double look. “I’m sorry.” I say in my bestCluelessvoice. “Unlike you, I take pride in my inability to lie. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t become a lawyer.” I’m feeling pleased with my little put down.
She smirks back. “No, you became a lobbyist. The only profession that lies more than lawyers.”
My mouth drops open, and all pleasure disappears. That was rude. I bump her with my hip. “Touché.” I sulk. “But maybe that’s why I’m still just a coffee fetcher. I can’t lie to my full potential yet.”
“That’s a good thing.” She puts a hand on my arm and looks at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Gee. I wasn’t trying to bring that up.”
I shrug it off, even though she’s hit a nerve. It’s not her fault my career is stalled, while hers is going full steam ahead.
The hotel comes into view. The burns on my stomach flare with pain, as if they can sense how close they are to feeling relief.
We stand in front of the bank of elevators and the pain consumes my thoughts. “I wish this elevator would hurry. I can’t stand here any longer. I’ve got to get these clothes off.”
Texie grins and waggles her brows. “That’s what she said.”
It is a long-standing joke between us. We both love the showThe Officeand will often have weekends where we binge watch several seasons at a time. “I’m glad you can find humor in my injury.” I smirk.
She rolls her eyes. “You are so dramatic sometimes. It’s not as if you’ll be scarred forever.”
The elevator dings and finally opens in front of us. “Hurry and change so we can go back to that overlook.” She says as if it had been her idea.
The elevator crawls up the shaft, finally opening on our floor. I walk as quickly as I can to our room, trying not to look like a weirdo. Texie saunters behind me, obviously not in as much of a hurry.
I shove the keycard at the lock and fling the door open. Grabbing my suitcase from the closet, I head to the bathroom, not waiting to see if Tex comes in the room behind me.
Standing in front of the mirror, I pull both of my shirts over my head at the same time, letting out a gasp. My eyes land on the angry, red blisters on my stomach. They are the size of a large hand with the fingers splayed out.
I grimace. Texie’s wrong. This will definitely leave a mark. I sit down on the edge of the tub trying not to let my eyes fill with tears. I will ugly cry if I allow it to start. It claws its way up my throat, burning and tightening, feeling like a strong hand is squeezing the air from my windpipe. I lean over and turn on the shower. I don’t want Texie knowing how bad this is.
She may be a tough attorney in the courtroom, but if she finds out about this, she will turn all Florence Nightingale on me and be overly attentive. There is no middle ground with her. It’s all or nothing. That is how she has always lived her life. Sometimes, it makes me jealous. But today, I can’t have her go big attitude or my vacation will essentially be over. She’ll hover over me like my grandma. And that’s not happening. This country speaks to me like none of the others have.
I know, I’m sounding sappy again.
I take a deep breath. Running a washcloth under cold water, I first drag it over my face, then wash the coffee off the skin surrounding the burn. Closing my eyes for a moment, I grit my teeth and take a deep breath before pressing the cold cloth to my stomach. Tiny pops of color appear in my peripheral vision.Come on Grace, woman up. I’ve never had this bad of a burn. Should I go to the hospital? I shake that thought off. My only time in Atraxia is not going to be from a hospital room. I have plenty of antibiotic cream and some cotton gauze pads. That is all they will do at the ER. Or I’m pretty sure that’s all.
I unzip my suitcase and pull out the first aid kit from one of the zipper pockets. My dad taught me that you never travel anywhere without a hundred-dollar bill tucked in your shoe and a first aid kit at the ready. I have a large one in my car and a small one inside my purse. This one is somewhere between those two.
And instead of my shoe, I keep my hundred-dollar bill tucked in my bra. My dad would be proud.
