The Darker Exterior

Chapter 2

"You said you scheduled an Uber for us," Ford said, staring down at his phone yet again.

"No, your driver should be here. I even told him to come early," I said, correcting him gently as I would a small child.

"Well call him then, I don't want to look for him through all this," he muttered, motioning to the crowds around us. He wasn't thrilled to be back in Florida. I, myself, was ecstatic.

"He's right here," I say, as the limo pulls up carrying Ford's company's logo.

 "Thank God," he says, trudging over. His driver, Ernesto, a short man on the bulkier side who was in his late fifties, got out and smiled at me.

"Here again Vidal?" he asked, his strong southern accent penetrating the air.

"You know it, Ernie!" I say, embracing him gently, "And I have something for you," I hand him the keychain from New York with a smile. He collected them religiously. 

"You're something else, Vidal. I hope you're excited. The hotel is a dream,"

"I hope it is!" I say, getting in the front seat with Ernie. Ford liked the back to himself whenever we drove, which was perfectly fine with me.

As we arrived at the hotel I let out a relaxed sigh. It did look lovely. The rooms were lovelier. The beds were soft, the pillows the best quality, and the breeze was cool and sweet. My room, in particular, was a delicate white color, as was nearly everything else in it. The bed had four posts and adorned a canopy made of sheer white material over the top, which looked like it could be pulled down if I wished. The whole room felt like money. There was a small door that led to a private patio that could lead down to the large pool, if I wished.

"I have meetings all day tomorrow and a dinner party/celebration at night. Aurelia, you're coming with me," Ford said as Ernie carried his suitcases into his room for him with more than a few grunts. Ford was a known overpacker. Or, his house staff were, I guess.

I was slightly taken aback he had read through the itinerary I had written for him, and retracted myself into the doorway to my room, "But I thought you were going to that event alone. I didn't prepare an outfit for myself to attend with you, and I don't know how I could put one together at this point-"

"Well, I was going to go alone, but apparently to get in with no ridicule, I need a plus one, which was something you should have figured out," he finally looked up from his phone to give me a pointed stare, "So here we are. Go shopping. Get a dress. Something nice. Not too long, not too short. Color and that shit are up to you," he handed me a credit card of some kind, which was notably not the company card he had me keep on myself, and walked into his room, which was adjacent to the doorway I was standing in.

I merely stood in the doorway for a moment before looking at the card in my hand, walking backward into my room, shutting the door behind me.

I sat down on the bed, rubbing the soft white sheets with my palm. I had mixed emotions about hotels. I had no idea what was on these sheets and blankets. But whatever it was could be cleaned by someone else, and I didn't have to lift a finger.

Plus, this place seemed reliable. Clean at the very least. I wonder how much bleach this place goes through daily, with the majority of things being white and all.

I needed a dress, and I hadn't packed anything nice for shoes either. Ford didn't give me much instruction. I know he said color didn't matter, but that seemed like a trap. I knew I had to pick something he would approve of. It felt like a test, a pop quiz I was thrown into with no prior knowledge.

For the sake of relaxation, I decided to grab the dress tonight and relax the rest of the day tomorrow, until the event.

We were here for a week, which was abnormally long for a work trip. But for my comfort, I began to unload some things into the room, creating a nice space to do my hair and makeup later at the vanity. Suddenly, the white surroundings became worrisome, as I realized my red hair would be prominent on the white floors and sheets. I just had to gaslight myself into not shedding at all.