Convenience

Part 114

At her hotel, Beatrice checked out. She was sad and furious. She'd be damned if she made the first move, let alone the first call. In any case she expected to hear from him! He kept telling her that he wanted her, wanted a real relationship: So where was he?

She went shopping. But she kept looking at her mobile. No calls. No texts. Nothing! She asked about any messages left with the hotel reception desk. No messages for her. When she returned to her hotel room, the phone was blinking, which meant she had messages. But none were from him. Great. She huffed. He is an idiot! Like her! So she picked up her case with an abrupt action that showed just how furious she was. She was leaving. Today. Now. Soon. She'd hoped he'd make an effort to seek her out, but so far, nothing. He had a chance. And she had her pride.

Unfortunately she knew she loved the idiot man. Still. She just wasn't sure about what she was going to do about it? She thought five years were enough, but clearly, she couldn't get over it: She still loved the idiot man!

Beatrice checked out. Driving out of Auckland she told herself she'd done the right thing in walking away. Before she reached her home she criticised herself for walking away. This is what she did five years ago. Repeating her reactions. Leaving. Not sorting this. Running. Scared. The last time she left, she was scared about starting a new life with him still in her life. This time, she was scared about not living her life without him.

On Sunday, David arrived at her hotel just before 8am. He had plans. Better to do this in person. If he phoned her, given her nature, she could put her phone down on him! But showing up at her hotel, that would make it harder for her to avoid him! Hence this early visit. Thatappeared to be the best course of action. 

The thought of an opportunity to spend more time with Beatrice had David's heart practically dancing.  His pulse was racing. This wasn't normal for him. He was behaving like an adolescent kid on a first date. Nervous. Happy. Edgy. On cloud nine!

David looked around and saw that the reception desk was busy as people checked out. So instead, he went to the concierge desk. "Good morning." With a full-wattage smile, David asked the concierge, "Could you please let Mrs Cardoso that Mr Cardoso is at the reception. Thanks." He expected the concierge to page Beatrice's room.

The concierge acknowledged that request, "Good morning, Sir." The concierge did a quick scan of his guest. The concierge played a game with himself to see if he could match guests. This one, at his desk, was tall and broad at the shoulders, good-looking, clean-cut, well-dressed albeit casual, polite but firm, given his request, obviously an impressive specimen! He wondered about Mrs Cardoso: probably elegant, lovely. But he thought he would wait to see her and her actions, to see her nature. Would she be a diva or shy? The concierge pressed a couple of keys on his computer and looked up Beatrice' room number. He frowned. "Sorry sir, we don't have a guest with that name." He then pressed another couples of keys, "Actually sir, sorry, she checked out."

"What?" David looked lost for a few seconds.

Concierge could see that he was not happy, because his eyes told him in no uncertain terms. His eyes had gone from delight to irate.

He looked baffled. "Checked out?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow, "Really?" David flicked at his jacket cuff and checked the time. Already? She can't have. So early? His head went up and he looked far from pleased.

The concierge double-checked, "Yes, sir." He scanned the report. "She checked out yesterday, around seven, last evening." The concierge banked his curiousity.

"Has she left a message for me?" He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a long breath.

The concierge double-checked, "No, sir." He scanned his computer screen. "No messages."

Infuriated.  He squashed his temper and drew his mask of composure back into place. "Thank you." And he walked away. She is a bloody frustrating woman! He mumbled to himself.

Not a happy bunny, the concierge thought. A family tiff? He thought as he watched David.

David walked to his car. Fuming. Frown lines etched his brow. This is what she did five years ago. Repeating her reaction. He was not going to leave this situation until he got some answers from her.

And this is what he did five years ago. Repeating his reaction. She was going to leave this situation without getting answers from him. He took in a deep breath and calmed down. He exhaled quietly.

He let her leave five years ago. Why wasn't he in there, now, fighting for her?

He was lucky to have her in his life. And he wanted another chance with her. He knew that. The question now, what could he do? His eyes reflected genuine anxiety.

Obviously Beatrice did not want to depend on anyone and she did not trust easily. His fault. He had hurt her, not coming after her.