Page 97 of Pipe Dreams
“Do you feel okay? Does your stomach hurt?”
“It did earlier but I think I’m good.”
Five minutes later they took the elevators downstairs, and Lauren pointed out the lobby shop.
“Are you going to, uh, ask for them?” Elsa whispered when they stepped inside.
“Sure. Don’t forget—everywoman buys these. And if there are men at the checkout counter of Rite Aid at home, that’s what self checkout is for.”
“Huh. Okay.”
Lauren strode right up to the bored looking woman behind the register. “Do you have maxi pads? I need them very badly.”
“Omigod, Lauren,” Elsa hissed. “Shhh.”
The woman barely lifted her eyes from her phone. She turned around, grabbed a plastic-wrapped pack of eight and plunked it on the counter. “Six-fifty,” she said.
Everything sold in hotels was such a rip-off. Lauren paid anyway, tucked the pads into her bag and went outside. “There’s supposed to be a shuttle bus to the game.”
The doorman turned to her with a frown. “It’s running slow tonight because there’s a protest rally going on. Give it ten minutes. Or you could walk it.”
“Thanks,” Lauren said, turning to Elsa. “Shuttle or walk?”
“Walk.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Beacon made a giant error by getting into the hotel’s courtesy car.
He’d been trying to save time, and the guy was right there when he emerged from the hotel’s front door. But now they were stuck in traffic, and he couldn’t evenseethe arena.
The half-mile sprint he’d done along the river to get to his family? That had worked fine.
“Seems to be some kind of rally,” the driver murmured. “I can’t turn left at any of these cross streets.”
“Shit.” His phone was blowing up with messages, too.WHERE ARE YOU?the general manager of the team kept texting. That was in addition to Rebecca’s texts, Jimbo’s texts, and Silas’s.
Your phone shows that you’re at the hotel, Becca texted.Or maybe you left your phone at the hotel, and you’re here in the building? I hope so. If you get this message, please know that people are freaking out. I hope you’re in a bathroom stall somewhere meditating.
If only.
He was truly MIA. When he’d gotten Lauren’s message, he’d looked at his watch and seen an hour before game time. The hotel was (sort of) connected to the complex where the arena was. So he just made a run for it.
Obviously they’d noticed. He knew the situation was really dire when the next text was from his agent.Where the fuck are you?
The car inched forward again. Then it stopped. The road in front of them was a sea of brake lights. He leaned over the seat to ask the uniformed driver, “Which way is the arena? I’m going to have to run for it.”
“I apologize, sir. You have good seats for the game?”
“You could say that.”
“That way.” The man pointed. “We’re three blocks north. You’ll see it when you clear those blocks.”
“Thanks,” Beacon said, opening the door in stalled traffic.
Then he ran.
•••
