After hours

Chapter Thirty-Eight

                This trip could not be going worse. First Daniel somehow shut my hair into the overhead compartment on the plane, then Frank got sick all over my new shoes, then this damn Alex chick rescheduled our meeting to the following day meaning we would be here an extra day, and then Frank got sick on my feet again. The second time Frank had gotten sick he’d puke not only on a pair of shoes I had just bought to replace the pair he had ruined, but he also puked on my purse and of course my cell phone which was sitting on top of it.

                I didn’t want to be here to begin with but by now I was practically seething and the only thing that made any sense at all as I stood in the hotel lounge in my bare feet was a damn drink.

                “What smells?” Daniel asked as he sat on the bar stool next to me.

                “My panty hose.” I said flatly and motioned towards the balled up tights on the floor between us.

                He chuckled lightly and raised a finger to the bartender who set a copper colored drink in from of him. I glanced to his drink and then back to my own.

                “What are you thinking about?” He asked.

                The way your mouth burned against my own when you drank scotch. “How I’m going to get in contact with Miguel. I know it’s stupid of me but I don’t memorize phone numbers, that’s what I have a cell phone for.”

                Daniel smirked. “And if you don’t call him he’s going to get suspicious.”

                “Wouldn’t you?” I retorted and then groaned. I could only hope he would call the hotel and I could explain it to him that way.

                Daniel shrugged in agreement before wrapping his hands around his cup. He watched the drink for a long time and I was almost curious enough to ask him what the drink told him but he broke the silence first.

                “Call your sister. She’s the one who introduced you, she probably has his number. If you don’t know her number I have it.”

                I felt heat creeping up the back of my neck. I didn’t know he had my sisters number. To my knowledge, they had never spoke other than the time I was in the hospital. I couldn’t let this one go. “Why do you have her number?” I asked as he passed me his phone.

                “Oh, yeah. That.” He looked uncomfortable. “Well I got it out of your phone.”

                I raised an eyebrow.

                “When we were, whatever. After the, well, you know, the, uh, with the baby, erm, the-”

                “The miscarriage.” I finished for him and he nodded.

                “Yeah. You were so…”

                “Bitchy?”

                “No, no. Just so…”

                “Mean?”

                “No Ryan. You were broken.”

                “Oh.”

                “I didn’t know what else to do. I mean, I wish I had called her before your, uh, procedure. She might have been able to change your mind.”