Page 112 of Betting on the Best Friend
I don’t have one
Where are you?
Lobby
I’ll come find you
I’ll be the one looking like I want to burn down the hotel
I spend the next five minutes on a booking site, but this is a huge conference, and nothing is open in any of the hotels closest to the convention center. At least, none of the affordable ones.
I’m sitting on top of my suitcase and studying the street view of a hotel several miles away when Charlie appears.
“Hey,” he says.
I hold up my phone. “Does this look murdery?”
He takes it, careful that our fingers don’t touch. “The Snug Bug Inn.” He taps a few times. “Here’s a helpful review. ‘Have you ever seen the 1970s movies where the local prostitute is drugged up to her eyeballs and takes clients to the dingiest hotel you could imagine? I’ve done the hard work and found that motel for you.’ It goes on for a while. Cigarette burns on the bed covers. Dead worm on the floor.” He wrinkles his nose. “The word ‘stains’ comes up a lot.”
I close my eyes, my head thumping against the wall. “Great.”
“What’s going on with your room?”
I start to explain, but before the first word comes out of my mouth, I clamp it shut again as I realize how it’s going to sound: like one of the dog-eared pages in a romance book where two coworkers get stuck sharing a hotel room and the story turns into . . . well. Something else.
In other words, Ruby Ramos saying she has no hotel room while her handsome best friend and love interestdoessounds exactly like the kind of scheme Ruby Ramos would concoct.
But I didn’t.
“Ruby?”
I open my eyes and stand up, holding out my arms for a hug. “Hi, Charlie.”
He gathers me in, and while I have probably hugged this man at least five hundred times, this is different. Neither of us is in a hurry to rush this one. He holds me, and I sigh and relax into him.
“Hi,” he says, and his chest rumbles against my cheek.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Same. Now explain why you’re sitting on your suitcase like a Depression era orphan.”
I don’t say anything for a couple of seconds, enjoying the hug before I step back. “I made a newbie mistake. I thought since the library was paying for the rooms, they were also handling the reservation, and I didn’t make one.”
“Oh, no. I should have double-checked the details with you.”
“Not your fault.”
“But I’ve come before. I know the process. It didn’t even occur to me to explain it to you.”
“I’m sure Sandy told me, and it didn’t register. Much like me.” I make a weak rimshot sound effect.
“I can’t even give you a pity laugh for that.”
I wave toward the front desk. “They’re sold out, and now I’m searching for open rooms I can afford.”
“The Snug Bug Inn might be cheap, but your funeral will be expensive. Come up to my room and we can look for more options.”
So far, Charlie doesn’t seem to have jumped to the conclusion that I’ve deliberately plotted for this to happen, but he’d be justified.
