Page 23 of The One Bed Rule
A grandfather clock in the room squawks and tells us it’s 5 PM. Back home, it’d kill me to not know where my day went. My brain would be screaming at me to be productive— don’t waste it. But I think orgasms and hot showers in an October storm, followed by a divine nap plus the end of my favorite scary movie is anything but wasting a day.
We tally our scores as Jess leaves a tray of fresh bread, fruit, pretzels and butter. I love how unbothered she is by this whole thing. She’s so sweet and has been doing anything she can to make us more comfortable. It makes me want to come back to The Fable Inn but as an intentional destination.
The fire crackles and I know I beat Seth by the way he’s tilting his head, glancing at me as I finish my score.
“We’re tied. Have to do best of three.” Seth claps his hands, rubbing them together. “But you won, so you get to ask me two questions. Anything you want.”
The terms we set before we started rolling any dice was the winner got to ask the loser two questions. Seth’s first win resulted in me sharing the celebrity I can’t stand to see when I’m working (I hate that he was in Parks and Rec) and my favorite childhood cereal (Captain Crunch).
Now, it’s my turn.
“Your tattoo. The numbers. What do they mean?” I ask as I take my first roll.
His face dulls for just a second, almost like something slipped. He takes a deep breath, sighing it out, and answers. “It was for my station. When I was a firefighter. Got them with a few of the guys.”
“Do you still keep in touch?” I quickly burn my second question.
He pauses for just a second as I finish the last roll of my turn. Seth takes the dice and shakes them, before continuing, “We try. Hard when they’re in Michigan and I’m in New York but we try to get together at least once a year.”
“I love that,” I say, thinking of Seth getting loud with a bunch of his friends. Before this getting stuck together situation, I could’ve never pictured it.
I’m the one who doesn’t have many friends by choice. Especially with my job, it’s hard to know peoples true intentions and I’ve been burned too many times to hand out chances like I used to. The thing it’s taught me is how much I’m okay with being alone. Sometimes, you need to learn to sit and love yourself in silence before expecting anything else from anyone.
The fire crackles as Seth rolls the dice.
Maybe it’s time to let someone fill that silence.
Twenty
Seth
Apparently,thekitchenrunson its own generator. Jess let us know she’d kick on the other one in an hour and make sure it runs all night. The roads are covered with inches of snow but the layer of ice underneath is the real problem. Jess was holding out hope that the chef would be able to make it in, but it’s not safe for anyone to be out like this.
Claire’s in the kitchen making something for dinner. I’m sitting near the fireplace, drinking the rest of my cocktail—and I fear I’ll never be able to drink another hot toddy in my life without thinking about Claire or this happenstance trip.
Not like I’ve had many hot toddies before this, but they’re pretty damn good.
We offered to cook for Jess and sit down with her but she insisted she had something to do. No clue what that could be, considering there’s still no other guests—just me and Claire. She’s good at this… sort of moves around you but you barelynotice she’s there and when she is, she’s popping in with some sort of treat or snack.
Claire told me she needed almost an hour for dinner but it would be worth it, so I’m just soaking in the quiet. Maybe dozing off here or there. It’s rare for me to have multiple nights like this off in a row, but Willow’s schedule has slowed down for the moment. I used to have a bunch of freelance clients, or random events I’d work, but Willow pays me more than I’ll ever need in this lifetime and I’ve been trying to figure out some other things I could do.
Can’t be a body guard forever. My muscles ache at the lack of movement the last few days. Even when we were in Miami for the reward show, the event security was on top of it, really making my job easy. I need to do some stretches tonight, maybe a little yoga flow. Wonder if Claire knows any yoga?
Before my mind runs away with all the things that Claire knows, or can do, or can do to me, I hear plates being set on the table in the dining room.
Rounding the corner, I see pasta, salad, and glasses of more bubbly wine. My mouth waters.
“Wow,” I say, pulling out the chair, eager to sit down and dig in. “What do we have here?”
Claire beams, the candles making her skin glow. “Fresh pasta with a Parmesan sauce, salad, and Jess showed me where all the wine is and basically made it feel like if we didn’t open another bottle we’d be doing her a disservice.”
I make a note to leave additional cash in our room when we leave.
“Wait, you made fresh pasta?” I ask, grabbing a fork.
Claire sits and says, “I learned at a cooking class. It’s pretty easy and you can definitely taste the difference.” She spins some of the noodles around her fork. “I could show you sometime.”
The offer of us doing something together, once this is all over, has heat spreading up my neck, to my cheeks. It reminds me of how Abigail and I would cook together, one of our favorite date night activities. We never got around to making fresh pasta but always wanted to.
