Mr Garcia

A waiter arrives at the table with a tray of drinks. He places them down one by one. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” I drain my glass and pick up my new one as I glance at my watch. Another hour and I’m out of here.

Pound, pound, pound, goes my head.

Searing pain ricochets through my skull.

Fuck.

I drag my eyes open to see the room spinning, and quickly I clench them shut again.

Oh…

My stomach rolls, and I sit up in a rush. Perspiration wets my skin.

What the hell, I feel sick. I stumble to the bathroom and throw up violently. My body is shaking, as though dealing with some kind of fever.

Fuck.

I get into the shower and under the hot water. I lean up against the tiles. I have zero energy. Why am I so hungover?

What did I drink last night? I frown, trying to remember.

Huh?

My mind is blank. The last thing I remember was sitting at the table in the bar.

But…

I frown as I try to clear my brain fog. How did I get back to the hotel?

I get out of the shower and dry myself. I wrap my towel around my waist and walk back into the room to look around for my things.

My phone vibrates on my side table.

April.

I pick it up. “Hi.”

“How’s my man this morning?”

“Good morning, Miss Bennet. Where are you?” I ask.

“In bed.”

I smile as I walk into the wardrobe to retrieve my suit. “I wish I was there. My bed was lonely without you.”

“Mine, too,” she purrs sexily. “What happened to you last night? I thought you were calling me when you got back to the hotel.”

Huh?

“Wait…” I frown. “Did I speak to you last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the weirdest thing, I can’t recall anything.” I take the coat hanger with my suit on it and lay it out on the bed.”

“You called me three times. How much did you drink?” she asks.

Three times! What?

I search my mind for some kind of memory. “I don’t remember speaking to you at all.”

“What?” she asks.

“Did I sound drunk?”

“No, but you were very lovey dovey.”

“Define lovey dovey.”

“Telling me how much you missed me and stuff. You were as cute as. It made me miss you more.”

I screw up my face. Cute as is not my style.

I stay silent of a moment as I try to reconcile last night. No… nothing. I change the subject. “What are you doing today?”

“I have to go into the office to pick up some files. I’m going to work from home for the rest of the week. This eye of mine looks horrendous.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Where’s my wallet? It must be in my suit trousers from last night. I look around the room and see my suit crumpled on the chair. Fuck, I must have been drunk. I always hang my suit up when I take it off.

“What’s on today for you?” she asks.

“Not much. Same shit, different day.” I walk around the room with my phone to my ear. “We have to find Theodore as a matter of urgency. Apparently, there’s been a possible sighting in some country town. Who knows if it’s a genuine lead.” I pick up my pants from the floor and feel around the pockets for my wallet. It’s not there.

“I can’t wait for the weekend. What do you think the dress code will be for the wedding?” she asks.

Where’s my fucking wallet?

“I don’t know. It’ll be hot, so something cool, I imagine.” I continue to look around. “Your birthday suit works for me.”

She chuckles, and I smile. I pick up my suit coat and feel around. I locate my wallet in the inside coat pocket. I pick up my white shirt from the floor, and my stomach drops as I stare at it.

Red lipstick is smeared across the collar.

What the fuck is that?

April chats away as the room begins to spin. I look around in a panic.

What happened here last night?

My eyes go to the coffee table, and I see a silver wine chiller with an empty bottle of champagne sitting in it. There are two glasses beside it—one still half-filled with a champagne. Two glasses…

My stomach drops.

“Seb?” April asks, and by the tone of her voice, I can tell she’s asked me a question.

“Sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”

I drag my hand through my hair as I walk over to the bed in a panic. With my phone to my ear, I angrily toss back the blankets to inspect the sheets.

“I just said that I can’t wait to see you,” April whispers huskily.

I close my eyes. “Me, too. Listen, babe, I have to go. I’m running late.”

“Okay, have a nice day.”

My heart beats hard and fast. This can’t be happening.

“Love you.”

I screw up my face. Don’t.

“You, too.”

I hang up in a rush and pick up the pillow to smell it. The strong scent of perfume cements the evidence, and I throw the pillow against the wall in disgust.