A Day at a Time / G-Eazy

Twenty Six

"So this is the best we could do on short notice. I can stay with Grady if you want your own room." Gerald says, unlocking the hotel door with his key card and holding it open for Charlie. She enters the room and throws her bag on the floor.

"I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner," Charlie apologizes for inconveniencing him and his team. She makes her way down the short hallway and pauses at the end, taking in the view before her. Twelve floors up, the city comes alive beneath them. Floor to ceiling windows offer the sunlight and a view of the hustle outside on the pavement. Their plane landed not long ago, marking the time 10:00 AM.

Under their feet lies a marble-tiled floor that had begun at the door and continues to the kitchenette on their left. The tile transfers harshly to soft grey carpet nearing the canopy bed. The walls are a simple white color, subtle and not blinding and they are decorated with plants and paintings.

"Stop apologizing, we're here to relax," he smiles. "Well, you are. I have work to do."

"This room is amazing, Gerald. Thank you," Charlie complements, turning to smile at him. He nods in return before shifting on his heels towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Charlie questions, her smile dropping to a confused frown.

"I'm going to settle in with Grady, I'll check in on you in a bit," he assures, giving her a nod.

"What? Stay," Charlie demands, shaking her head. It wasn't her intention to take over his trip and it wasn't like they hadn't shared a bed before.

"I'm good," he assures. "You need some time. Enjoy it. Relax, yee?"

"Please stay," Charlie asks again, more gentle this time.

Gerald pauses for a moment, observing her face. He nods, agreeing, and places his luggage beside hers.

"Fine but don't steal the blankets," he jokes, giving her a soft smile.

Charlie rolls her eyes softly but he smile tells Gerald that she's not actually annoyed. She makes her way to the bed, sitting on the edge and falling back. A modest yet elegant chandelier hangs above her head illuminating the crown molding. Gerald mimics her motion, laying down beside her. 

"Food?" He suggests, turning to the bedside tablet to rummage for a menu.

"Please," She agrees, happily.

"So, what are your plans today?" Charlie inquires. They sit cross-legged on the king mattress facing each other, the breakfast Gerald had ordered the two sits between them.

"Fitting this morning for Saint Laurent. I have to hang around and catch a few presentations. Show face, yadada? Today's pretty chill, though. Some after-party at Camille Rowe-Bel's, if you want to come."

Charlie nods along, picking at the strawberry's while he speaks. "I don't know how well I'd fit in at that party. Thank you, though," she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes, pushing his plate out of the way and laying back on the bed. "Come here," he pats his chest and motions for Charlie to lay with him.

She hesitates for a moment. This isn't what she and Gerald do. They were friends at best and this seemed like crossing some sort of line. Nonetheless, she nodded, pushing her plate aside and made herself comfortable with him.

Gerald reaches out with his free hand, brushing Charlie's waves loose with his fingers, "What were you planning to do today?" He hums gently.

"I don't want to tell you," Charlie confesses embarrassed.

"What?" He questions, moving his head to the side to look at her face.

Charlie buries her head deeper into his chest mumbling, "It's just cliche, you know. You've been here before and you're going to think I'm lame." When he doesn't respond she sighs and continues, "I would really like to see the Louvre and maybe the Eiffel Tower. Really though, I want to go to the catacombs."

"I've never been sightseeing here. It's usually just work," Gerald confesses as he relaxes back into place.

"I'll tell you all about it," Charlie promises, her eyes becoming heavy.

The room is bright when she awakes again, she can hear chatter coming from the hall and to her right outside of the window she sees hundreds of tourists walking the streets. She's alone in the bed and the clock beside her reads 3:00 PM. After a quick and satisfying stretch, her feet hit the plush carpet and she makes her way to the marble bathroom. The room is decorated modestly but is furnished with a glass shower and a soaker tub. A single towel lays on the floor from Geralds shower earlier. The walls of the glass shower remain steamed, indicating that it wasn't long ago that Gerald had left.

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Shorter chapters for more frequent updates? I'm trying, yall!