Fair Play (6 page)

“Madison Hotel on the beach, can I help …”

“Someone is trying to get into my room,” I say with a hiss interrupting her greeting spiel.

“What? Who is this?”

“I’m in room 623, and someone’s trying to get in,” I whisper.

“623? Okay, I’ll radio security,” the clerk says with all of the urgency of a two-hundred-year-old tortoise.

“Don’t call your stupid security people, call the damn police.”

“We gotta call security first, they get mad when we don’t check it out before we call.”

“I don’t give a shit if they get mad, call the police or I’ll hang up and call them myself.”

The door rattles again more forcefully.

“They’re going to get in here and murder me in my room, and they’ll see that I called you for help. You’re going to be an accessory to murder if you don’t get somebody over here right now.”

I have no idea if that’s true, but the girl on the other end of the line sounds like she couldn’t pour water from a boot with instructions on the heel.

I hang up and begin to dial 911, but there is a scuffle outside my room and I pause before I dial the last digit. I hear two men’s voices close to the door and then fading away as they move down the hall.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and wait. The hotel room phone rings on the table next to me, and I almost fall out of the bed when I jump.

I snatch the receiver up, more to make it quiet than to see who is calling. When I hold it up to my ear, the ditz from the front desk is speaking.

“Mrs. Brown?”

I don’t bother correcting her on the Mrs. She probably doesn’t know the difference between Ms, Miss, and Mrs. anyway.  

“Yes?”

“Security found some guy trying to get into your room. He was probably drunk and he thought your room was his. You don’t got to call the cops or nothing.”

“You’re sure that’s all it was?”

“Yeah, just an old drunk.”

“Okay. I need you to note it on the computer that I’ll be checking out tomorrow.”

“Sure, okay,” she says as if she couldn’t care less, and she probably doesn’t.

I hang up the phone and lay on my side facing the door, clutching it between my palms. I’m never going to get to sleep now, and I have to be up in three hours for Nick’s photo shoot.

Be proactive Téa, get up and check the locks again and turn on the lights. I slide out of bed and turn on every light in the small room, double check all the locks, and turn on the television for some distraction.

An infomercial for a body-shaping bra plays in the background while I pack my suitcase. This was a false alarm, but after that little jolt of reality I’ll gladly pay for a safe hotel for the rest of my stay.

After an hour of packing and pacing the room, I curl up on the bed to watch a new commercial for the latest at home workout system. It’s boring as cardboard, but it’s mind-numbing enough to put me to sleep.

Checkout time at The Madison tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Nick

It’s three a.m., and I’m still lying here worrying about potential new nannies, online girlfriends that may have or may not have stood me up, family photo shoots, missed practices, and my mom missing work because of me. Not to mention I’m worried about Mimi and how her recovery is going.

I need to just close my eyes and go the fuck to sleep, but my brain is on full speed ahead. The door to my room opens and a sliver of light cuts across the floor when Scarlet comes in dragging her unicorn comforter behind her. That thing is almost too heavy for her to carry, but she won’t sleep without it, and apparently she won’t sleep without me either lately.

“Hey, my little Letty lady, what are you doing up?”

“I heard something. I sleep with you.”

I reach down and pull her into bed with me. I used to be a hard ass about her sleeping in her own bed, but lately I don’t mind it. She’s missing Mimi, and I know how it feels to miss someone you love. I miss her mother every single day.

I tuck her in next to me, and she looks up into my eyes in the dim room.

“Are you comfy?”

“Yeah, except for this.” She pulls out my cell phone from under the covers. I must have dropped it when I was waiting for Lastgoodwoman10 to message me. It seems she may not be the last good woman or a ten.

“Sorry, I’ll take that.” I place the phone on the charger and snuggle down in bed spooning Scarlet. I breathe in the clean scent of soap and strawberry shampoo. I think I can sleep now. Lately, I need her comfort as much as she needs mine.

Three hours later my alarm goes off, and I feel like someone hit me with a sledgehammer. I’m too old to survive on three hours of sleep, but we have an appointment this morning, and I’m not going to miss it.

I leave Scarlet in the center of my California king-sized bed and slip quietly into the en-suite bathroom to shower. I gave her a bath last night before bed, so I wouldn't have to wake her up until right before it’s time to go.

I didn’t tell her about today. It’s a surprise. I hope she still likes Téa. Scarlet isn’t into too many adults. She loves Ben and Mimi and I, but she usually keeps anyone older than five at arm’s length for a long time before letting them into her world.

That’s why I was so surprised she warmed up to Téa so quickly the other day. It was like they were old friends.

I turn on the main showerhead and two of the soaker sprayers and wait for the water to heat up. I drop my lounge pants on the floor and strip off my t-shirt. Standing in front of the mirror naked, I turn to one side and then the other, assessing my physique.

Still pretty good for a thirty-year-old guy. I pat my washboard abs, no beer gut for me. I like working out, the adrenaline rush, pushing my limits, all of it.

My body’s been through hell over the past seven years playing pro ball. Torn ligaments, broken bones, a million sprained ankles, and countless concussions later, I look healthy on the outside. The inside resembles a sixty-year-old, according to my physical therapist and my doctor after a full body MRI and CAT scan following a head injury a year ago. 

I’ll play until they drag my ass off the field in a body bag.

Half an hour later, I’m showered and dressed, pulling a very groggy little girl out of my bed.

“Hey, Letty, we need to get you pretty for pictures this morning.”

She sits up and rubs her eye with one hand, clutching her unicorn comforter with the other. She looks out the window and back at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“It’s night time, Daddy.” A sheer curtain is the only thing covering the window.

“I know, Téa wants to take our pictures as the sun is coming up to make them prettier.”

“Téa? From the plane?” Her eyes light up. She’s awake now for sure.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“I like her hair. She’s pretty.”

I’m standing at the edge of the bed. I bend over and place my hands on my thighs to look her in the eyes.

“You have good taste.”

A frown line puckers between her eyes. “I didn’t lick her.”

I take her by the waist and swing her out of bed, laughing.

“That’s not what I meant.” I carry her down the hall to her bedroom while I try to explain good taste to a four-year-old. She has her hand on my cheek, and she’s paying close attention as she always does when she’s learning something new.

“Good taste means you choose good quality things, not ugly junk. Get it?”

I poke her blue Elsa-covered belly and give her a tickle. She squeals and grabs my finger with both hands to keep me from tickling her more. 

“Yes, I do, I do,” she says between laughs.

“Okay, let’s brush your hair and get dressed so we can go see Téa.”

“Téa’s not ugly junk.”

“Definitely not.” I tweak her nose and stand her in the middle of her walk-in closet.

“Drop the blanket and nobody gets hurt,” I say.

She giggles, and I take a blue and white paisley romper off of a hanger with a little white sweater, so she coordinates with my conventional white button down and navy pants.

I can’t take credit for the coordinated outfits. Mimi had this all picked out to have our pictures taken before our vacation.

“I wanna wear this,” she says, pulling on the hem of a bright lime green costume from her dance recital last year.

“No, you won’t match me. We have to look nice together.”

Her face falls, and I sense the crocodile tears coming. I’ve been giving her whatever she wants lately, and she’s learning how to work it.

“How about you wear this,” I say holding up the appropriate outfit, “and we take that with us, and you can change later for a picture in it too?”

A broad smile spreads across her face, and she nods her head up and down.

After a few minutes of adjusting her clothes and shoes, I smooth her curly hair into soft waves and we’re heading out the door.

I should have had her wear something else for breakfast, but that would mean more work. Now I get to cross my fingers that she doesn’t mess up her clothes.

I had no more buckled her in and started the car when she asks are we there yet. I look into the rearview mirror at her with an are-you-kidding-me scowl, and she giggles.

She looks so pretty sitting in her booster seat, gripping that ugly costume with her bouncy curls. I knew the waves wouldn’t last. I don’t know why I even bothered. As soon as she was outside, they sprung up into ringlets. She smells like fresh strawberries and fabric softener, and she’s happy. It’s a good day for pictures.

I pull up in front of The Madison and call Téa. I wasn’t kidding about not taking Scarlet in there.

“Good morning, we’re outside waiting for you. Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes, good morning. I’ll be right out in just one minute, okay?”

It sounds like she just woke up. Her voice is muffled and groggy, and I swear I hear her swear under her breath.

“Sure, we won’t move unless a gunman enters the building. You’re on your own then.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, I’ll be right there.”

“Is this still a good time? We can reschedule if you’re not ready.”

“No, no. I’m fine, just stubbed my toe on the dresser. Give me five minutes and I’ll be out.”

“Okay, bye.”

The line goes dead, and images of Téa naked and wrapped in another man’s arms flash through my mind.  She may have hooked up with someone here. Hell, she may have a boyfriend here that she’s visiting while she works. Who knows?

I didn’t realize until right now how much I was looking forward to seeing her again. A surge of possessiveness pops up from nowhere, surprising the hell out of me.

I have no claim on this woman. I only met her a few days ago, and I’m already feeling jealous? That’s definitely not me.

“Daddy, it’s Téa!” Scarlet yells and kicks my seat.

“Settle down,” I say and open my door.

Téa is hurrying through the automatic doors, hiking her camera bag over her shoulder, carrying a suitcase.

“Good morning. Checking out?” I ask, nodding toward her suitcase.

She’s dressed in skintight purple jeans that have rips in the right thigh showing peeks of her soft brown skin, boots with a flat sole that lace all the way up to her knees, and a skintight black t-shirt that says “You say I’m weird like it’s a bad thing.”

Her long red and black locks are swept up on top of her head in a messy bun. She’s fucking beautiful in the oddest way. I’ve always gone for the typical girl-next-door type, but Téa is the polar opposite of that. She makes my cock twitch and my pulse quicken with her wicked curves and her sexy dark eye shadow.

“Morning, yes, I guess I am. I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I overslept. I’ve never done this before.”

She’s flustered, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s out of breath.

“You’re not late. See, it’s still dark.” I say, pointing up at the sky that is slowly becoming lighter.

I wonder why she’s checking out, but I don’t want to look like an eager beaver, so I leave it alone for now.

“Not for long, let’s go.”

“Nice shirt.”

She looks down as if she has forgotten what she’s wearing and she’s so frazzled, maybe she has.

“Thanks.”

We both reach for the door handle at the same time. Time stands still for a moment. When we touch, her frenzy stops.

She looks at our hands and slowly drags her amber eyes along my arm and up my chest until they land on my mouth. She switches her gaze to my eyes and blinks once before she speaks.

“I was at a bonfire.”

I tip my head forward and raise my eyebrows. I don’t know what I expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. I remove my hand from the handle and press the back of it against her forehead.

“Are you feverish?”

“What? No.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head back and forth.

“I meant that’s why I overslept. I ran into my old best friend. She’s from Chicago and we grew up together. She took me down the beach to her husband’s bonfire. I don’t want you to think I’m a flake or unprofessional or anything.”

That doesn’t sound like she overslept because of a hookup. The unreasonable jealous feeling I had starts to subside with this information.

“Té - a,” Scarlet yells her name as if it has two syllables from inside the car. We look through the glass at the irritated, hungry little girl impatiently waiting for her new friend to enter the car.

“She likes you.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” She smiles, and I open the door for her.

“Hey, Scarlet, how ya doin’?” she says, sliding into the passenger seat.

“You gonna take pictures?”

“Yes, I’m going to take your picture.”

I close the door and round the front of the car to my side.

“Look what I brought,” Scarlet says, holding up her green polyester costume. “I get to wear it.”

“Wow, I love it. Where’d you get that? You’re gonna look great in it. Green is your color.”

I love that she doesn’t talk to Scarlet like she’s a baby.

“It was her dance costume from her recital last year. I had to appease her to get her out of the house in the dark.” I lower my voice, “She’s not wearing that, don’t worry.”

Téa looks confused, “Why not? I love it. We have to get a few shots of her in that. Trust me, they’ll be adorable.”

I glance at a smug Scarlet in the rearview mirror, feeling outnumbered.

“Okay, you’re the pro. So should we do the beach for the sunrise or the pier?”

“The Pier, I have some ideas for cute poses.”

I pull out of the parking lot. Cute poses. I wonder what that means. I’m not going to ask. I’d rather wait and see.

“Okay, sounds good. So does your old friend live here in Myrtle Beach now?”

“Yeah, she moved here a few years ago I guess. We grew up together and lost touch when we graduated college and went our separate ways.”

“That’s great that you found each other, though, what a coincidence.”

“I know right? It was totally random. I was walking down the beach looking for a spot to sit and eat, and she called my name.”

“You were going to sit and eat on the beach alone?”

“Yeah, I was sick of being cooped up in the hotel.”

“I don’t know which place is more dangerous.”

She tilts her head and looks at me sideways with insult in her eyes.  There’s a fine line between independence and stupidity. I hope she knows the difference.

She shifts in her seat to face her body toward me, pulling one knee up and leaning on the door. I press the lock button and the click echoes through the vehicle.

“Locking me in, are you?”

I glance at her and back to the road.

“Force of habit I guess. You’re leaning on the door. I don’t want to lose my photographer before she takes any pictures.”