Plan, Interrupted // t.h.

4: Believe Me, No Hate Crime Involved

Unfortunately, the morning came sooner rather than later, and the pain that throbbed through your head was more than a little indicator of how badly you slept. Not to mention you had forgotten to take off your bra before sleep, so everything hurt.

Groggy, in pain, and still tired, you sat up on the couch, trying to find something around you that you could drink but only found an empty wine bottle. Then you saw the clock and the panic set in. it was almost 2 pm! And you had agreed to meet your... What were you even supposed to call the guy? Employee? Hired staff? You decided to just refer to him as "man" before you found out his name. That was something you had planned on doing in your original plan, but it was too late for that.

To set plan B in motion, you got up and ran to the landline, which you only really used to call one number.

"Lobby, how can I help you miss y/n?" Charlie sounded ready to do whatever you'd throw at him.

"Charlie, hi. In a bit, around 2.30, a man will be coming in. I need you to get as much information about him as you can, but like... subtly, you know?" In moments like these, you were glad the phone wasn't stationary, as you could take this time to run around your apartment, cleaning up all the mess you had made the night before. Even for strangers, it was important to make good first impressions. There was still so much to be done, though. You most definitely needed a shower, find something nice to wear, prepare all the things you needed to talk about- god, why was revenge so difficult?

"Uhhh..." Charlie mumbled. "Miss? Is everything alright?" He must have heard you stumbling around the place, bumping into things as you tried to find the blueprint of the hotel and venue. It was genuinely ridiculous how easily you could obtain this kind of information on the internet.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. Can you just get him to answer some kind of contact sheet? Make it look like it's for security, I don't know. Just name, address... that kind of stuff. Nothing too weird, oh, and if you could stall him a bit too, that would be amazing."

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. But how will I know it's the right person, miss?"

"Well, he'll be here to see me but... oh, he has a British accent!"

"Ah, right, got it." You could hear him scribbling down the things you had just said. Charlie was a great guy, but not always the brightest. You hung up the phone, and with less than thirty minutes until the man would arrive, you rushed into the bathroom. It must have been a new speed record of washing up once you got back into your bedroom to look for a decent outfit. It had to be something decent, but not too professional since this wasn't exactly Wall Street business that you were up to.

You had just finished drying your hair, buttoning your shirt and putting glasses of water on the dining table (somehow, all these things were done simultaneously) when you got a call from the reception.

"Miss, there is a Mr Holland here to see you." Mr Holland. You liked the sound of that.

"Thank you, Charlie, you may send him upstairs." Usually, you would hang up now and wait for your guest to arrive with the elevator, but instead, you stayed on the line a little bit longer: "Did he fill out the questions?"

"Yes, but I will admit it was very strange, and I think he saw through that."

"Doesn't matter, just bring it over once he leaves, ok? And thank you."

"Anyday, miss." And with that, you hung up. It may have taken another minute for the elevator to reach your floor. The doors opened with a ding, and for a second, you didn't know what to do. The man that walked into your apartment was the last type of guy who you would have imagined to go up for a job like you had described in the ad. He was firmly built, not too tall, but his height suited him just right. His hair was styled in soft dark brown curls, slightly gelled back though, and he wore plaid trousers, a green shirt with a denim jacket on top. He had his hands in his pockets as he walked up to you, but you could see the edge of a watch peeking out.