Maid in Seattle [Elvis]

Chapter 11 - Rooftop Romance

"Who were you on the phone with, Elvis?"

The Colonel came into the room with only a sofa and a table that had the phone on it, right as I got off the phone with Amy. I cleared my throat. Should I flat-out lie to him or tell him the truth? I didn't like lying. "I was on the phone with Amy."

His expression turned to that of disappointment. "Elvis, you called her?"

"I did. She gave me her phone number this mornin'..." I shoved my hands into my black slack's pockets, noticing his expression. "I just wanted to hear her voice, that's all."

"When you only talked to her this morning?" He came up to me, his forehead shadowed by his tan fedora. "You know that I don't want you to be involved with that girl."

"I know, I know, but it's already done. I'm gonna meet 'er tomorrow at the end of the day, in a place where no one will see us."

He took his hat off and rubbed a hand over his bald head. He did that whenever he was stressed about something. "Elvis..." he exasperated. "Whether you think it's a secluded place or not, people could still see you and you'll be labeled as the star who is in a relationship with a hotel maid. I would be alright with this if she was a star like you, or if you were less of a star than you are now, but neither of you are such. You're world-famous. You cannot be involved with a maid."

Something painful pinched my gut. I knew he could see the frown on my face. He let out a sigh. "Elvis, I'm sorry. I know a person can't help who they fall for, but they can help acting on their feelings. I think you should call that girl back up again and cancel this little date of yours."

I bit my lip. I always did what my manager said I should do, for my own good, but now... "I'm sorry, Colonel. I can't do that. I would rather be branded as the star who was involved with a maid than one who is involved with a teenager. The girl I should be calling is Priscilla to tell 'er I'm sorry, but it's not gonna work out."

"I wouldn't do that, Elvis. Priscilla is a nice girl and the daughter of an air force pilot. She's not a maid."

I hated that people were ranked in importance according to their job. I never liked that, but it was the way of things. "Do you want me to be called a pedophile or just a star who loves a maid?"

I wasn't meaning for that to come out in a terse tone, but it did, and he heard it clearly. "You wouldn't be a pedophile because you would marry Priscilla when she's a little older."

He still wanted me to marry Priscilla. Honestly, Priscilla was expecting it as well. She would be heartbroken when I called her and told her about Amy, and I felt badly about that, but I didn't want to be involved with two girls again. "I don't think I'm gonna marry Priscilla, Colonel. I told ya - I'm in love with Amy."

"You're not in love with her, my boy. You've only known her for a week."

"People can fall in love in three seconds. That's how the sayin' goes."

"It's all a myth." He planted his hands on his hips authoritatively. "I'm your manager, and I know what's best for you professionally. This is not a good move."

"What about what's best for me personally?"

"With you, they are one in the same. When the world finds out that you're involved with a maid, your popularity will go down. You know that. We've had this discussion."

"What's the underlyin' reason?"

He pressed his lips together, then said, "We'll lose money."

Of course, it all went down to money, not my happiness. "I understand that, but I'm willin' to take the risk."