Page 47 of Sergeant O'
Brian handed him four twenty-dollar bills, causing the clerk to frown.
“You don’t have a credit card?”
“I do, but I prefer to use cash.”
“Okay, but I’m still going to need a credit card for a security deposit.”
“I don’t want to use my credit card,” Brian reiterated.
“It’s a five hundred dollar cash deposit then.”
Brian’s eyes got big. “For a seventy-nine dollar a night room?”
“That’s the policy. You can always use a credit card.”
With pursed lips, Brian counted out five hundreds, then slid them across the counter. “I’m gonna need a receipt that shows that’s refundable.”
As Oscar typed something into the computer, he asked, “Are you guys having an affair or something? Is that why you don’t want to use a credit card?”
Before I could even interject, Brian slowly shook his head while bringing his bottom lip past his top.
“Nope. Just friends.” Then he floored me when he added, “Look at her; she’s way out of my league. Do you think if I were lucky enough to get a shot with her, I’d settle for just an affair? No way, man. No way.”
The clerk looked me up and down as the receipt was printing, then as he handed it to Brian, replied, “I’m sure she looks better when she’s not soaking wet.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Partly because I’d cringed when Brian had told him to look at me. I’d caught my reflection in the lobby windows, I knew what I looked like.
I guess since Oscar’s motel was sold-out, he didn’t feel inclined to blow smoke up anyone’s ass.
Still, Brian stared at me as he told the man, “She’s gorgeous no matter what.”
I glanced at the puddle on the floor by my feet while my toes curled.
Fucking curled.
One thing was certain: he needed to knock that shit off.
****
Brian
I slid the key card in the slot and held my breath as I opened the door and flicked on the light. I wasn’t sure what to expect for seventy-nine dollars.
When I saw everything seemed okay—no rodents or insects scurrying across the floor, I held the door and let Jade pass in front of me.
She looked around as she set her backpack on the long chest of drawers under the TV mounted on the wall.
“I mean, it’s not bad. I like that there isn’t any carpet.”
I twisted the lock and threw the security latch, then followed her inside, setting my duffle bag next to hers.
“I agree. I’ll bet laminate is a lot easier to maintain and keep clean. Especially if it rains like this a lot.” Gesturing toward the bathroom door, I asked, “Do you want to go first?”
“No, go ahead.”
I opened my duffle and pulled out my toiletries kit, remarking, “It won’t take me long.”
When I came back out, her shoes were off, and she had already claimed the right side of the bed by pulling the covers back and sitting in it while she looked at her phone that was connected to a white charging cable.
