Page 7 of The One You Chose

“Covering all my bases.” I finished writing my information down and folded it into a square.

I watched as Walter placed the note in an envelope.

“What’s the name again?” the old man asked.

“Lina.”

“Ah, maybe I know her.” He nodded pleasantly. “Lived here in Little Norway all my life, I know just about everyone.”

“Somehow I believe you.” I chuckled. He didn’t seem like the type to sleep with a woman and not know her number, or where she worked, or her full name. I wasn’t about to admit that to the man. “And it’s just Lina.”

Walter waved at me as he taped the note to the desk.

six

Too Early in the Game

Lina

Withtheliquidcourageof two mimosas, I talked my younger cousin, Jason, into giving me a ride down to the Ridgewood Inn and Suites. I was crazy to think that he would want to come over, but he had mentioned his mom was out of town. The idea of Fitz sitting all alone in that little room for Thanksgiving made me sad. I could at least offer, right? If the whole thing was a one-night and never to be seen again situation, then he could say no. While Jason sat in the car, I walked up to room 209, knocking three times. There was silence behind the door. I knocked again, a sense of disappointment settling over me. Until that moment, I didn’t want to admit how much I was hoping to see Fitz again. To say that night had been the most incredible night of my life was an understatement. Not only was the sex incredible, but he seemed to get me on a level I had never experienced before. Without talking, and admittedly, once we started kissing, there was almost no talking. We connected on a level I didn’t know was possible.

While I understood that sometimes a one-night stand is just that, I realized I wanted more with Fitz. And I wanted to believe he wanted more from me. Why hadn’t I left my number? What kind of bonehead doesn’t leave a number?

The kind who doesn’t have one-night stands.

Every other guy I had slept with, I had known for months, sometimes years, before we slept together. I knew their phone numbers; I knew where they lived and their mother’s maiden names.

I didn’t even know Fitz’s last name. Or where he worked. Down on the second level, my cousin honked his horn, hanging out the window. “Are you bringing your booty call to dinner or not?”

I leaned over the balcony and flipped him off. “He’s not here. I’m going to leave a note at the front desk for him.”

Walking to the empty front desk, I hit the small bell on the counter. A girl I went to junior high with walked out, her eyes flicking distastefully down my body before raising a brow.

“Hey, Sandy.” I said, more cheerful than I meant to sound. “How’s, um...” Wracking my brain for the name of the boyfriend Sandy had years before. “Rick?”

Her face implacable, Sandy stared me down. “How should I know?”

I always was rubbish at small talk. “I was going to leave a note for the guy staying in 209. Fitz...”

“There is no one in 209.” Sandy interrupted as if bored with me already.

“Yes, there is, I was just there a few hours ago.”

“The gentleman in 209 checked out an hour ago.”

“Well, do you have any contact information for him?”

“I will not disclose that information to you. I could lose my job.”

“Not even his last name?” I asked.

Sandy raised a brow, looking me up and down with a sneer. “You don’t even know his last name?”

I felt the pink heat of my cheeks.“Um, well, it was a bit crazy last night, and he said he was staying here until the 1st, so I thought...”

Smacking her gum, Sandy’s eyes went back to the computer screen, somehow more bored than moments before. “Well, he checked out of 209. Can’t help you. Sorry.” Sandy turned away, walking to the back room.

Sandy was definitely not sorry. Grumbling, I walked back to the waiting car. Sandy was probably still pissed about the time that I got to be Veruca Salt in our eighth-grade rendition of Charlie and Chocolate Factory. Sandy got cast as one of the bedridden grandmas. Climbing in beside Jason, I shook my head.

---