Somebody's Baby

Chapter 9: What Have You Done?

The gray sky hurled rain onto the roof of the May Fair Hotel. I lay in bed and watched it crash against the windows, a deep, searing pain still plaguing my body. A glance at the nightstand informed me that George was already awake, as the once empty table was now filled with a plate of cookies, a glass of water, and the vase of white roses I'd meditated to the night before.

"Good morning," he came into the room holding a cup of tea, a crooked grin spread across his face.

"Morning, George." I propped myself up in bed.

"This is for you," He handed the cup to me.

"Aw, you didn't have to do that," I said, clutching the hot cup in my hands, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, it could be rubbish."

I laughed and took a sip. It was milky and sweet, "It's delicious."

"Good. You've made tea for me lots of times, I'm glad I could return the favor. The biscuits are for you, too. How are you feeling?" He took a seat at the edge of the bed, stroking my arm gently.

"Physically or emotionally?"

He laughed, "Both, I guess."

"I'm a little sore, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"Sorry if I was too rough with you."

"Oh no, you weren't. I enjoyed it." I wanted to tell him he was a stallion and the best fuck I'd ever had, but I thought for now I should refrain from stroking his ego.

"Me too. You're a nice lover, Eloise."

A blush spread across my cheeks, "Thanks."

We sat in silence staring out at the rain as I finished the remainder of my tea. For whatever reason, there was a bit of awkwardness between us. "I should get ready for work," I said, setting my cup down.

"Oh, I thought maybe you'd take the day off."

"It's tempting, but I can't do that."

"Would you like to go together? I'd be happy to drive you," he said, hand still rubbing my arm.

"You and I arriving together in the same clothes we wore to the club? That's going to look suspicious."

"I don't care how it looks."

I smiled and laughed.

"What?" He asked, matching my grin.

"I've just never met anybody so unfazed by the opinions and perceptions of others. It's an incredibly attractive quality."

George's cheeks turned pink, his demeanor suddenly turning bashful, "Well, why worry? It doesn't do any good. It's such a waste of time, caring what other people think."

"No, I agree, it's a fantastic way to be. You're inspiring me."

"Inner satisfaction transcends all outer chaos."

"Amen, cutie." I said in an exaggerated Southern accent.

George giggled softly, "Shall we meditate before we leave for Apple?"

"I mean, we don't really have time."

"There's always time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain poured down on the windshield as George drove us to Apple. Sitting in the car with nothing to do allowed my sadness to creep up to the surface again. I knew I'd be seeing George Martin again in less than an hour, and the thought was overwhelming. I cried silently. George glanced over, and noticed the tears in my eyes, "You don't have to come in today, you know. I can drop you off at home."