A Tale of Two Carnies

40 - A Grand Entrance

I could never live in New York City or any other big city for that matter. The moment I got off the train, I felt closed-in and claustrophobic. The unceasing noise of traffic, the bus diesel fumes, and the myriad people walking every which way spiked my anxiety level.

The cab ride from the train station to the hotel Cozbi booked me into was tortuous. The cabbie had rank body odor, he couldn't speak English, and the car's air conditioning only blew stale, tepid air.

The hotel wasn't as tall as the surrounding buildings and had the aura of old-world elegance. Uniformed valets stood near the door. I thanked an overzealous baggage handler assuring him I didn't need his assistance. A doorman politely greeted me while holding open one of the highly polished glass entry doors. The tile floors were so clean a person could eat off of them, and the prisms hanging from the giant overhead chandelier reflected hundreds of rainbow colors.

I approached the hotel desk with the garment bag holding my tux slung over my shoulder.

The desk clerk eyed me with suspicion. "Your name, please?"

"Jason Muir. There's supposed to me a room reserved for me under the name Cozbi Miraslova."

It took him only a moment to pull up the details on his computer screen. His reserved attitude toward me morphed into a smile. "Ah, yes, the penthouse suite."

Penthouse? Cozbi shouldn't have gone to such expense. A simple room would've been fine with me. I showed the man my ID, and he programmed a key card granting me access to the penthouse elevator. He told me the elevator opened directly into the suite.

More surprises awaited me as I stepped into the room. The center of the large sitting room was adorned with a marble fountain, water spouting from the mouths of six fish statues lining the perimeter. A greenhouse lined the exterior wall decked out with a couple dozen species of colorful flowers I couldn't name. French doors opened onto a balcony.

The canopy bed sat high off the floor. A short person like Shelly would need a ladder to climb up. The bar set into the interior wall appeared stocked full of liquor. The refrigerator held deli ham and cheese slices, I supposed, for late night munchies.

I hung my garment bag in the closet and texted Cozbi to let her know I arrived.

She buzzed my phone immediately.

"Jacey, I'm overjoyed you made it. You have no idea how much I need a hug from you."

She sounded gloomy, and her acting so melodramatic concerned me. "I'm looking forward to seeing you too, but this suite? It's too much." I checked the time. "Your show starts at six, right?"

"Yes. Be on time!"

I chuckled. "Okay, princess. I'll just chill for the next three hours."

"I'm so relieved you're here. Jacey...I...I." She was having trouble finding the right words. "When the show is over, I need you to take me home."

What did that mean? Back to her apartment, I hoped. Surely, she wasn't angling to move back in with me. "Cozbi, whatever is troubling you, we'll talk about it, okay? I know you must have a lot to tell me. When does your shindig end?"

"Whenever I decide to leave."

After the call ended, I took a shower. The sandalwood scented soap foamed with so much lather, I thought I'd never wash it clean from my body. Feeling refreshed, I stepped from the shower and lounged in a hotel robe until it came time to change into the tux Shelly had picked out for me.

Shelly would love the room. I missed her and wished she were here.

The venue for Cozbi's show was a block south of the hotel on the same side of the street. I got dressed at half past five and walked out of the hotel at quarter to six. The gallery was easy to spot. Two lit posters bearing Cozbi's photo all dolled up with makeup making her look ten years older hung on each side of the entryway. A line of dressed up folks milled around out front, slowly making their way inside. A doorman scrutinized every guest while holding the door.