The Client's Proposal

The Client

"Jillian"

This is the last time. Just get through it and get the money, I told myself as I drove through the warm Louisiana night with the window to my Honda rolled down. I was almost there. Only a few more minutes and I would spend a weekend at the Windsor Court Hotel with a client. "Yea...and the last time was supposed to be the last time. Good job, Bev." I mumbled as I took my exit. But then this was not like any of the other clients.

For one, they'd never paid for such an expensive hotel... and they'd gone by the hour. Three or four at the most at five-hundred an hour. And then the 'John's' instructions had been so much more detailed than anyone before now. Thinking of how much money I would have by the end of this, had my palms sweating against my steering wheel. It was exactly what I needed to move out of this place and get a few states further away from him. My part-time job as a receptionist was not cutting it. My roommate was on the fritz. I had an degree that I could be using.

I needed out. As I came up to the parking lot of the tall, beautiful hotel, I thought about the detailed email I had got at the beginning of the week. I'd been just about to disable the account when I had spied the new mail in my inbox. A man by the name of Mr. Bell and that was it.

He wanted my complete submission for forty-eight hours. Something I didn't know if I could do but I needed the money. Badly. I let out a shaky sigh, just as I reached the Windsor Court and found a place to park. His instructions had been simple. I've put you as a guest at the hotel. Just get your key card at reception... He'd made very clear in one of our email exchanges.. "And, here you are...." I said to myself as I killed the engine, grabbed my overnight bag from the backseat and my purse from the front passenger.

Once outside of the car-and my icy cold air conditioning-the sinking summer sun peaked from the horizon, warming my skin. My heels sounded against the concrete as I made my way across the lot and to the shiny, glass front doors. The lobby was cool and welcoming. A couple sat at a lounging area in a far corner, having a coke and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Before I even made it across the lobby, the receptionist was smiling, professional, ready to deal with her next customer. She was young, younger than myself anyway, with blonde hair tied at the nape of her neck and bright red lipstick decorated her lips. "Welcome to Thomas Seattle. How can I help this afternoon, Miss?" She asked when I was standing at the desk and returning her very authentic smile.

"Um, Miss Gray. I just need to pick up a key card. Under Bell." Hearing his name leave my mouth-this strangers- made my tummy do that roll again and a blush touched my cheeks. The receptionist-Olivia, I learned from her nametag-was fast at work, fingers flying over the keyboard of the hotel's computer.

"Not a problem at all, Miss Gray. I just need to see your Driver's License." She was already grabbing a new, shiny, golden key card from somewhere behind the desk and swiping it through a machine. We made the exchange at the same time and she documented my proof of identity in seconds before handing it back. "It's the presidential suite on the fourteenth floor. Fourteen oh six. If anything is to happen to your key card, just let us know. We will be happy to assist you." She explained as I returned my ID and grabbed the room card.

"Do you need help with your bags, Miss Gray?"

"Oh no. I think I can manage. Have a good evening," I replied and shot her one last smile before I turned and crossed the floor to the elevator. The ride up to the fourteenth floor was long and nerve-wracking. There weren't so many rooms on the floor, as several suites took up the lot of the space, and finding the room was easy.

As soon as I was inside, I shut the door behind me and slid the chain lock into place. The room was lovely, opening up into a sitting room, with overstuffed furniture, several lamps and tables and a flat screen TV was hung on one wall. With my bag and my purse still in my grasps, I walked further in. Up two stairs lay a king sized bed with millions of pillows and a gorgeous duvet.