Page 8 of The Problem with Princes
I open one of the Velcro flaps and pull out a small tube of antibiotic burn cream. twisting off the cap, I squeeze it onto my fingers and gently rub it over my stomach. Biting my cheek, I keep the crying at bay, but I can barely swallow past the tightness in my throat. Once the ointment is spread liberally over the affected area, I carefully tape gauze over it. Hopefully that will protect it from my clothes rubbing on it.
First aid complete, I dig through my clothing, trying to find the maxi dress I had packed. Tex hates maxi dresses. Like she loathes them. I know she will give me some crap when I come out of the bathroom. But I don’t care. Comfort is more important than her fashion sensibilities right now.
My fingers curl around a soft wad of fabric and I yank it out. Just looking at it makes the pain ease slightly. I pull it over my head and let it fall loosely around my body.
A deep sigh sounds. I would own a whole closet full of maxi dresses if I thought I could get away with wearing them to work every day. They are so cool and comfy. I look in the mirror. What is not to love about them?
Now I can go back to enjoying the last little bit of my vacation.
I open the bathroom door and step out. Texie sits on the bed, scrolling through TV channels. “What took you so long?” She eyes the ankle-length dress. “Are you sure you don’t need to put on more clothing before we go? I think I can see your ankles.”
“Bawahaha.” I fake laugh and pull the hem of my dress up, allowing her to see the bottom of one of the burns on my leg. It is the least severe looking one, which hopefully will make her slightly sympathetic, but not overly concerned.
“Ooh. That looks painful.”
I drop my dress back down and walk to the mini fridge, grabbing my water bottle and pastry box. I shove them into my bag and motion toward the door. “It is painful.” I give her my best teacher lecture face. “But this fabric is soft and loose, so it doesn’t rub. Although, if you are more concerned with my style…”
Texie doesn’t respond to my comment. Instead, she reaches for the local attractions booklet sitting on the table and walks quickly out the door.
So much for sympathy.
“Let’s go back to that bench and plan the rest of our trip,” she says.
The elevator dings and I wait for the doors to part. I glance over my shoulder, feeling like someone is there. When I don’t see anyone, I pretend to scratch my chin on my shoulder. Could MSG have found me or is my imagination running wild now that it doesn’t have the pain from the burns to think about?
I tap my foot impatiently, looking back over my shoulder again. What is taking so long? I’m thinking I might have to pry the doors open with my bare hands, when they push apart.Finally. I let out a long breath.
We step inside and my anxiety eases as the elevator makes its way to the lobby. It dings and stops on the fourth floor. The doors open and a man steps inside. He glances at me and then averts his eyes.
Scenes from thePelican Briefplay through my mind. How had MSG found me?
I stare at the man’s back. He looks taller than Mr. Skateboard Guy. Maybe they are working together. It seems unlikely he was working alone.
The elevator dings and a woman steps on. The man from floor four slips his arm around her waist and kisses her on the cheek. “Did you get checked in okay? Sorry we are on different floors.”
She smiles up at him and winks. “It’s okay. I don’t think I’ll be spending much time in my room.”
He grins and kisses her again.
I look up at the ceiling, embarrassed to have heard their private conversation. My cheeks burn. What is wrong with me? It’s like I think I’m Jason Bourne or something. I shake my head, trying to dislodge all the dumb things that are rattling around up there.
The elevator stops and the doors open in the lobby.
I swallow and step out, smoothing my hair, which doesn’t really need smoothing because it is neatly pulled away from my face in a thick rope braid.
Texie looks over at me, her hands on her hips. “Seriously, what’s up with you?”
I make a cursory glance around the lobby. “Nothing. I’m fine. Why?”
She grabs me by the arm and pulls me to the side. “Because you’re acting weird.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but I shake my head pushing any thoughts of intrigue or mystery away. Things like that just don’t happen to people like me.
Several men in the lobby are wearing baseball hats, but they aren’t the same color as MSG’s. No one looks overly shady or seems to be staring at me, so I walk toward the doors. “I’m just anxious to go back to that overlook. The whole coffee incident made me grumpy.”
“Okay. I get that. That guy was so rude to you.” She gives me a sideways look. “He probably doesn’t have burns on his toes.”
“Right?” I smile at Texie. I’m so glad we are here together. She may not understand the draw I have to this place, but she does understand me. Most of the time, at least.
