The Habits of My heart

Chapter 2 : Those Doe eyes

" I'm here to return a key. I won't be staying here after all", Ronnie slid the key over the desk. Confused but in no place to ask questions, I gave him a nod and returned the key to its rightful place. Expecting him to have already left, I continued folding the guest towels.

"You're not from here," Ronnie said, startling me. " I can tell just by looking at you. "

" Oh, so my accent didn't give it away?" I laughed. " I'm from the states."

" Yeah, why are you here, though?" Ronnie furrowed his brows like he was suspicious of me.

"Well," I swallowed nervously. " I was sent away by my parents for health reasons, and when I came of age, I decided to stay."

" You're sick?" Ronnie slouched and leaned on the desk, giving me a sad look.

" Something like that."

"You either are or aren't."

" I'm not interested in giving a stranger my life story. Why are you still here ?" I spat annoyed. I was a conserved person, and being pressed by a strange man on my past was beyond aggravating.

" Would you tell me over dinner?"

" I'll kindly have to pass on that offer, thanks."

He stood up straight and handed me a card. It read 'Esmeralda's Barn: Wilton Place, Knights bridge.'
" I'll be here if you change your mind. But don't take too long, I'm not a patient man." He then left the hotel.

I threw the card in the trash bin under my desk. Time passed rather quickly after the conversation with Ronnie Kray. When the day seemed like it couldn't get odder, a familiar face entered through those same revolving doors. I could place a name on her face, but she looked like someone from almost a past life.

" Does Monica Lewis work here?" The girl slid off her elbow lengthened gloves and folded them neatly to place in her satchel.

I gave her a welcoming smile, "Yes, I am her."

" Don't tell me you have forgotten about me." She arched an eyebrow but gave a flirtatious smirk.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. The dirty blonde hair paired with her honey-brown doe-shaped eyes, how could she forget? " Frances Shea." I stood up quickly and made my way around the desk, wrapping her in a warm embrace. She smelled like she always had...like sweet vanilla butter.

" I heard through the grapevine that you were working here. Thought you went back home to the States with your parents." She smiled.

" You know good and well my roots are here. You London folk have grown on me," Frances held my face. " Thought I'd never see you again."

"Good thing you don't get paid for thinking." We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity before something on her hand caught my attention. How couldn't I have noticed the big rock on her finger?

" Beautiful, isn't it ?" She asked, following my eyes.

" You're married ?" Not at all surprised at the fact that someone swept her up. Frances was a one-in-a-million. A firecracker, but also so timid and meek at times. She was an unpredictable woman,, and it's what made her a mystery that anyone would be lucky to solve.

"Engaged," she corrected. She removed her hands from cupping my face and leaned her back against the front of the desk. " I won't be wedded until April. I love the fall and was hoping for October or November, but Reg insisted the sooner, the better."

"Already wanting things on his terms. Sounds like a real charmer." I rolled my eyes playfully.

" Why don't you see for yourself? He's hosting an engagement party for us at his club tonight."

" Alright. What time?" I handed her an ink pen and notepad.

She jotted down the address before handing it to me. We did small talk and reminisced over our times together as teens. We both attended the same facility and became the best of friends. She got out before I did and was never heard of again until now.

Frances left, and I looked down at the address she wrote. It looked familiar to the card in the bin, but without giving it any second thought, I shoved it in my sweater pocket. After my work shift, I left to get ready for the party.