Nice to Know

The Tower

As we drove to the airport Peter read and reread the article over and over. This had been the exact thing we'd been trying to avoid. Luckily they had no sufficient evidence to claim that it was actually me.

For the time being they could only speculate, and I just hoped that the story would die down and everyone would forget about it.

The last thing I needed was for the police to begin questioning the situation.

But I didn't want to see what they had to day about me. I knew what everyone thought. I was a gold digger, a murderer. There wasn't a good way to argue those claims.

What was I going to say? Sorry, I was forced into a life of luxury against my will by a demon?

At least I'd get off on an insanity plea.

Sebastian pulls up to the drop off location at the airport and goes around to get our bags out of the trunk.

Peter and I are close behind, pulling the bags onto our shoulders.

"Thanks Sebastian, tell Minnie I said hi." I call to him as we head towards the glass doors.

He tips his hat before ducking back into the car and pulling away. I'm so preoccupied watching him drive off that I manage to trip.

Peter's hands are a bit too full to catch me, but I land on top of my duffel stuffed with clothes, so I couldn't conplain.

"Are you alright?" He chuckled, offering me a hand to help me up.

I laugh and dust myself off, trying to refind my center of gravity in my heels. I felt his hand on my wait to support me as a righted myself.

"You'd think I'd have this whole walking thing down by now." I said, slinging the bag back over my shoulder.

Just as we were headed towards the door I saw a man pass by us quickly. He didn't look very notable, except for the fact that he didn't have any bags. But what he did have, was a bug black camera.

I smack Peters arm lightly, but by the time I get his attention the man is out of sight.

It gave me a sick feeling in my stomach, but I didn't have any proof he had been doing what I'd thought he'd been doing.

"Is there something wrong?" Peter asked after a minute.

"Nevermind, it wasn't anything."

He eyed me as we went inside, and I pretended not to notice.

We ate at a Cinnabon while we waited for our flight, and I flipped through a pile of magazines all the way to Minneapolis.

The car was waiting for us at baggage claim to take us to the big mystery location. Peter though it was funny for each of Randalls random endeavors to be revealed as we went.

I couldn't  help but get more and more curious as we drove further into the downtown area. It was getting dark and most of the sky scrapers were lit up theatrically. People littered the streets, enjoying the warm summer night.

And just as I was settling in to enjoy the smorgasbord of people watching, the car slowed and pulled up in front of a building.
People were instantly all around us, opening our doors, pulling our bags out of the trunk, offering us water with lemon.

"Wait, are we dropping our stuff at the hotel before we go to the property?" I asked Peter as he came around to my side of the car.

He chuckled lightly, "No Bo, you own this place."