"Oh my God. We did good, Cal." Presley flopped onto one of the two queen sized beds in our fancy hotel room. "I'm on a cloud."
Presley insisted we choose The Maxwell because of its 'sleek and sophisticated design'. At the time, I couldn't have cared less where we slept. But now that we were here, in a room on the top floor with views overlooking the city, I wasn't going to complain. Plus, I took a peek at the walk in shower with body jets. I'd definitely be utilizing that later.
Or at least that was my plan until I remembered my cast. The idea of trying not to get my arm wet didn't sound too relaxing. Not to mention the fact that I'd have to put the same underwear back on afterwards. Ugh, never mind.
I used my good hand to flip through the room service menu. A full belly would put me in a better mood. "What do you want to eat?"
"I think the sheets are satin." Presley ignored me, as she slipped beneath the covers. Her dark hair splayed out on the fluffy pillows either side of her.
"I'm getting a burger," I announced.
"Sounds good. I'll have the same."
Well, that was easy. And after the day we'd had, we deserved at least one thing to be that way - even if it was as simple as making a decision about what to eat.
After calling in our order, I laid back on the empty bed. Presley wasn't wrong. The mattress was pretty incredible. I sunk into the plush comforter and propped myself up with pillows against the headboard. Presley switched through channels on the large TV that hung on the opposite wall.
I smiled when Robin Williams lit up the screen as Mrs. Doubtfire. "Good choice. I haven't seen this in years."
"It's a classic."
We watched for a few minutes before my phone distracted me. I typed into the search engine: what percentage of stolen cars are returned to their owner?
A bleak 59% was the top answer. Who knew how accurate that was, but still... the odds weren't tipping too far in our favor.
I was about to search 'does insurance cover goods belonging to someone not under the coverage?' when Presley snatched my phone from my hand.
I narrowed my eyes as she studied my screen before turning off my phone and setting it out of my reach. "None of that is helping. It's only making you feel worse."
Of course, Presley was right. But I had a bad habit of sinking deeper into despair when things didn't go my way. Not for long, but for a little while until I picked myself up again.
"I know. I'm just... so fucking pissed off."
"Yes, I'm aware," Presley smirked, eyeing my cast. "Do you normally take your anger out on walls?"
YOU ARE READING
Redesigned by Fate
Romance*on hold* Until Callan moved in next door, Presley was one hundred percent, completely fine with how her life was turning out. She never regretted dropping out of college or wasting her days working in a diner for minimum wage. Boredom never plagued...