Room Service
The flight attendant wakes me as we prepare to make our descent. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand and then get my things ready while enjoying the view of the ocean. We touch down outside Spring, Florida into a busy airport. I hope that most of these people are staying here and not heading toward Spring. I check the signs and follow them over to the luggage return to wait for all the suitcases to come down, which seems like forever. People come and go, taking their luggage, but my bag isn’t here. What the motherfuck? Tapping the shoulder of one of the attendants, I ask, “Is this everything?”
He looks at the luggage carousel and back to me, clearly seeing that it’s bare. “It should be, Miss. Did yours not come down?”
“Nope.”
He gives me a nervous smile. I school my expression because he probably can read the annoyance off my face. “You can head over to that desk and speak with Roger. He’ll get you squared away.”
“Thank you,” I grumble, trying to not take my bad mood out on him. I take a breath and then walk over to the guy at the desk. “Hello, Roger. That guy over there told me to see you about my missing suitcase.”
“I’m sorry to hear that ma’am. Please fill out this form and hopefully we’ll be able to get it in your hands by tonight.”
I nod and then I spend the next five minutes filling out a missing luggage report and hand it over to the man. He reviews it and works my nerves by asking me questions. This has been a day from hell.
“Yes. I’ll be at The Jamison Hotel,” I confirm with the man at the airport’s service desk. Roger seems nice, but I’m not in a pleasant or forgiving mood. I nod and walk away before I say or do something to show my true colors. Even though I’m sweet as pie most days, I can turn into the damn devil if provoked, and that’s not far away. I’m only in town for a few days to find some rest and relaxation, and I’ve already gotten off on the wrong foot.
What I can’t understand is how they can lose my luggage on a nonstop flight from Chicago to Florida? Something in my head screams my mother has her hand in this.
I get in a cab and take the short trip to Spring, Florida. “Can you take me to The Jamison Hotel in Spring?”
With a nod, he drives to the hotel. After paying my fare, I exit the vehicle with just my purse. I do myself a favor and tuck my bag close to me before someone robs me of that.
The hotel is gorgeous and large, but it’s not massive. I enter the lobby to find it mostly empty. The receptionist at the desk gives me a look as if she’s not ready to do her job. There’s a bitchy look to it.
As I step up to the counter, the desk phone rings and she puts her hand up to me, telling me to wait. Scanning the room to keep from snapping on her, my heart and body freeze. Walking across the lobby toward a hallway is a tall, sexy man in a charcoal grey suit that fits his body perfectly, and I can’t take my eyes away. His profile catches my attention, but then the clearing of a throat draws me back to the lady at the counter.
I smile apologetically at her. “Excuse me, I’m checking in. My name is Cassandra Tate.”
She clicks away then looks up at me with an arched brow. “Sorry, but we don’t have anyone registered by that name.”
“What? I made the reservation a month ago.”
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have you in our database.”
“Please check again. Cassandra C-A-S-S-A-N-D-R-A Tate T-A-T-E.”
“I know how to spell,” she hisses as she types away. “I told you we don’t have you listed.”
“Well, do you have a room available?” I question, feeling a sense of dread.
“The only one we have is the villa, but I’m guessing that’s out of your price range.”
“How much is it?” I bite out, hating her snobby tone.
“Two thousand dollars a night.”
“What the hell? Is someone washing your ass for that? Nevermind. Is there another hotel in town?”
“Sorry. There isn’t. Now, please, before you draw any more attention to yourself. We like our town to remain peaceful. Perhaps you should go back to wherever you came from. There are other spring break resorts all over the state to look for men to sleep with.”
“Perhaps you should learn not to be a cunt,” I retort before spinning on my heel and leaving the hotel. I should call a cab back to the airport, but I refuse to let them win. Instead I want to go enjoy the beach.