Page 10 of The Beat of My Heart
As I’m packing up my crap that got thrown all over the car when Mr. Policeman pulled me over,Girls Just Wanna Have Funstarts blaring through the car speakers, sending all my shit flying once again.
I press the button on the steering wheel, “Hi, Lanes,” I sigh. “I’m here, I just pulled up to the valet but waiting for someone to come get the keys.”
“Eesh, that was a long ride. You doing okay?” The thing about Lanie is, she is always looking out for me. It makes me smile even when I’m ready to scream.
“Yeah, Lanes, I’m fine. Oh, let me call you right back. Valet is here,” I tell her.
“Sounds good. Luvs,” and she hangs up.
Grabbing the rest of my crap, I step out of the car, telling the valet the keys are in the ignition. Making my way around to the passenger side, I grab my suitcase, my garment bag,thanks a lot, Lanie, and my work bag. It is a lot of stuff, and I’m trying to maneuver it all and give the valet a tip when the guy shuts the door in my face.
“What the hell?” I screech, stepping back and tripping over my giant suitcase in the process. Before I know what’s happening, I’m sailing through the air, preparing my ass for the hard landing it is about to receive when two powerful hands grab my waist and haul me back to standing. My hair is wild, a mass of nests I didn’t bother taming today, so I can’t immediately see anything. Finally, collecting my wits and swatting at the hair in my face, I slowly turn in a circle, trying to find who caught me. All I see is the retreating form of a rather expensive suit and a very nice ass.
“Great. Just freaking great,” I say, stomping my foot like a child. “Stinking rude ass people. First, the valet knocks me on my ass, not to mention the assholes giving me the finger for the last hour. News flash, I’m not the awful driver here! Then, someone rescues me and doesn’t even bother waiting so I can thank him,” I mumble.Ugh… inner monologue, Julia! Inner monologue is supposed to remain INNER.
Taking out my AirPods, I stick them in my ears even though they died on the drive down here. At least I’ll be able to get through the lobby without people thinking I’m talking to myself.So what if I am? They don’t need to know that.
“Oh my God, I cannot believe I have to be here and present in front of a bunch of entitled assholes. They probably won’t even be able to comprehend what it is I’m showing them. The last time I did this, I spent the final two hours of the presentation explaining what my job even was. Forget about the software they had no chance of understanding.”
“Hi, checking in. Julia McDowell,” I say, handing over my license and credit card. Holding onto my AirPods to let the girl know I’m on the phone—or pretending to be anyway. My rambling only gets worse as more and more people close in around me waiting to check-in.
“This was a colossal mistake. I hate crowds, why the hell couldn’t I have caught whooping cough or something? Whooping cough is still a thing, right?”
The poor girl behind the counter shrugs like one would when encountering a crazy person. “Ah, not sure, miss. You’re on floor 32, your room number is written right here along with the Wi-Fi password. If you need anything at all, just call the front desk and someone will be happy to assist you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble and follow her directions to the elevator. “Please don’t let some pregnant lady get on the elevator with me, or a really, really old person. Maybe just let me have the elevator to myself? That would be best. Ugh, I already want to go home. Who even likes going to these things, anyway? Not me, I can tell you that. I’d much rather be home in my bed. Oh, and this one-night stand business is just out of control. My poor mother must be having a heart attack. Fucking GG and her touchin’ with the ladies. Jesus.”
I feel someone come up behind me at some point in my latest rant, so I bite my lip until I taste copper and look at my phone, willing my craziness to stop for just five minutes so I can get to my room without further incident.Lanes! Quickly pressing the FaceTime button, I call Lanie back.
“Hey, girl. How’s it going?” she asks. For such an awful upbringing, Lanie sure as shit has a sunny disposition most of the time.
“This is the worst,” I tell her. Most girls would get whiny, I get bitchy. “Why do they insist I present at these things? Every single person in my company has witnessed one of my epic meltdowns. Why do they keep doing this to me?” I demand.
“Jules, you know why. You are the smartest person I know. If they say they need you, it’s because no one else understands what the heck is going on,” she laughs.
Hearing the ding of the elevator, I stick my phone into my bra-strap and attempt to shuffle my bags onto the elevator.
“Ooh, I love the lacy pink bra, lady! This one is sexy as heck! You’ll totally be able to have a one-night stand wearing this stuff,” Lanie says, and I pull the phone back out of its confinement.
I can’t help but laugh. “I can’t do this… I can’t have a one-night stand. I have been muttering nonstop to myself, pretending to be on the phone since I walked into this hotel. Now I have to figure out how to match these outfits for a dinner I don’t even want to go to. I will be a walking boner-killer.”
“Ah,” Lanie starts and stops multiple times, so I hold the screen right up to my nose to scrutinize her. She never fumbles with her words.
“What is going on?” I demand. “Why are you stuttering? Do I have boogers on my face? It wouldn’t surprise me, I got so many middle fingers waved at me for no reason, I even snorted laughing at two of them. Don’t do that by the way, they get even more pissed, especially when you’re in stop and go traffic.”
“Ah, hun. You do realize you’re not alone in that elevator, right?” Lanie whisper-yells and points to my right.
“Oh, fuck.”
“And he looks really hot, well, the quarter-inch I can see on my phone,” she whisper-yells again.
My cellmate, who has obviously been watching on in horror, lets out a bark of laughter that echoes through the small enclosed space, causing me to jump and nearly fall again. A steady hand wraps around my bicep, righting me, and I know for a fact that he is the one who kept me from falling earlier.
“Fuck me,” I say to the ceiling with my eyes closed.
*Ding*
The elevator doors gracefully slide open, and I shove, kick, and push my crap through them. I refuse to even look at the elevator man. I quickly mumble a thank you and push forward into the hallway as quickly as my short little legs will allow. This causes him to laugh again, and I shiver at the velvety rich sound.
