The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Chapter Thirty One: Best Interest

When you wake the next morning, you know immediately that Taron isn't there. The weight and warmth of his body is absent and you always just seem to feel a little more empty when he's not around. Rolling over to his side of the bed, you see that sure enough it's vacant. However, a single stem coral colored tulip lays atop the white silk pillow. Smiling lazily at it, you reach over to grab it and roll over onto your back. Lifting the delicate flower to your nose, you notice that it smells of honey and fresh cut grass, which is odd to you since you weren't aware tulips had a fragrance. Twirling the stem around with your fingers as you eye the soft petals, it occurs to you that the color reminds you of the devil costume Taron wore in Rocketman. Why does that seem so long ago now? You caress your cheek with the silky smoothness of it and smile against the sweet gesture, even as you wonder where he could've gone so early.

Laying the flower back onto the pillow next to you, you look down at yourself to see that you're still wearing the tight pink lace dress from last night. It also doesn't go unnoticed that you are still commando and you feel your cheeks flush at the memory of what happened against the wall. Rising up from your horizontal position, you pull the zipper down your body, wriggle out of the now wrinkled dress and walk naked to the bathroom.

The shower feels heavenly and you chuckle to yourself when you notice there is a distinct lacy pattern etched across your skin from sleeping in the dress all night. Taron could've at least changed you out of your outfit after his rousing attempt to chastise you with his over enthusiastic and carnal efforts. Little does he know that you rather enjoyed yourself as well. Looking back, you do feel a bit foolish for your juvenile behavior and you sincerely hope no one saw you storm off across the lawn like a spoiled brat. The worst part is that you hurt Taron. How could you let him think you don't trust him? Of course you do. You just go a little crazy at the thought of him with anyone else. Ok, a lot crazy. You never were the jealous type before, but with Taron, everything is different. You make a mental note to remind him when he returns that you do in fact trust him with your life, and that you will try and do better in the future. Feeling resolute and hopeful that you can move past the unfortunate events of yesterday, you turn the water off and step from she shower. The cool air from the air conditioner hits you like a wave and you grab your bathrobe to tie it loosely around your body. You have just finished combing through your wet hair when you think you hear a knock at the hotel room door. Poking your head out of the bathroom, you listen intently for another knock, which does in fact come only seconds later. Who could be knocking this early in the morning? Could Taron have forgotten his key? Figuring it must be him, you skip to the door not even caring that your robe is barely secured, your hair is soaked and you're barefoot. Swinging the door wide, you are more than a little shocked, and disappointed, to find Rachel standing there. Except Rachel doesn't really stand, she looms. Immediately cinching your robe closer around you and smoothing back your hair that is now sticking to your face, you address the older woman cooly.

"Oh hi Rachel, um Taron's not here", you say holding onto the door with a death grip, hoping she'll leave quickly.

"Oh I know. I saw him downstairs leaving a little while ago. I actually came to speak with you. May I come in?" What could she possibly need to talk to you about? You narrow your eyes at her for half a second before opening the door wide and stepping back so that she can enter the space. You really wish you were clothed at the moment. It would make you feel just a little less vulnerable against this woman who you are growing to dislike more and more.

"Would you like to sit?" You offer, motioning to the living room area.

"No thank you. This won't take long", she replies as she stares you down. Well this is awkward. You cross your arms over your chest defensively and sway from side to side, waiting for whatever this intimating woman has come to say to you. "Well, I'm not one to beat around the bush so I'll just come out with it", she says, raising her eyebrows at you and pausing for effect.