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“Besides. . . what’s wrong with being reckless every once in a while?”
“I don’t do reckless.”
“Maybe you should.” She grinned her glorious smile at me. “Look at how great you feel now.”
She was right about that.
We finished our drinks, and as we stood to leave, she reminded me about her daughter’s birthday party in two weeks. “I’ve got a guy coming I want you to meet.”
“Lolly.” I huffed. “I don’t want you setting me up with any more of Calvin’s friends.”
“He’s not.” She tossed a cheeky smile at me and, in a streak of yellow and red Lycra, she ran across the road toward her car.
As I made my way across the lobby, I deliberately tried to ignore the glare from my boss. Ever since I confronted him about being late for work, he’d been acting weird. It was as if he’d seen a different side of me, and he didn’t like what he saw.
Truth was, he did see a whole new side of me. I, Plain Jane, didn’t do confrontations. But I had. It felt good. It still did. Seeing that shocked look on Needledick’s face had proved that I’d made an impression. Making an impression was new to me.
Memphis, on the other hand, was an expert at leaving lasting memories.
In my room, I opened my balcony door and allowed the gentle sea breeze to kiss my skin. I breathed in the salty air. In through my nose, out through my mouth, in deep calming repetition.
Every time I viewed this scene from my room, I wanted to pinch myself. The dark blue ocean stretched as far as I could see to meet the equally blue sky in the distance. A dozen or so giant container ships and two cruise ships dotted the horizon. Directly in front of my hotel was one of the best beaches in the world. Surfers Paradise sand was fine and golden, and it spanned both left and right in a glorious strip right outside the Hot Horizon Hotel where I lived and worked.
I still found it incomprehensible that I had this job at this hotel. I guess I had Needledick to thank for that. The fact that he’d hired me, a woman with no hospitality experience, was a miracle.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him after all.
I sat on my bed and reached for my diary. At the top of the page for the 15th of March, I wrote Mickey Taylor, room 31 —Pleasuring the Plumber.
As I wrote down what glorious things we did in room thirty-one, I tried to analyze why today’s orgasm had been so incredible.
By the time I’d finished writing, I’d worked out the answer.
I’d let go.
I had completely, one hundred percent, let go of my inhibitions, and for the first time in my life, I’d wholeheartedly wanted to have sex.
And it hadn’t mattered one bit that the man was a complete stranger.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Easter Friday was the start of a long weekend, and that meant the Hot Horizon Hotel, along with nearly every other hotel on the Gold Coast, was at full occupancy.
The first few hours of my shift had been busy registering new guests.
The next couple of hours were consumed with guests coming and going through the lobby, many of whom had been to the Easter festivities in Surfers Paradise.
I’ve been living in this hotel situated right on the beach for three years, but I have yet to partake in such activities. It was a sad admission. I really needed to get out more.
I grabbed the cordless phone and went out to the front sun lounge for a small break. The full moon glowed like a giant white orb on the horizon and kissed the inky-black water in the distance like it was dividing the ocean in half.
A couple of people strolled down the beach without a care in the world. Even though it was three o’clock in the morning, I wasn’t surprised to see them. The beach was magnificent, with golden sand that stretched as far as I could see; no matter what time of the day or night I looked out over it, people were enjoying the stunning landscape.
The waves crashed into the shore with therapeutic repetition, and as I sipped my green tea, I sucked in the salty sea air and enjoyed a little time out.
A taxi pulled up into the hotel drop-off zone, and a man climbed out of the back seat with a large black briefcase in his hand. He slung a suit coat over his shoulder and walked up the foyer steps toward me.
He was dressed in stylish pants to match the suit coat, a white business shirt that was slightly crumpled, and a red tie that he’d loosened so it hung slightly askew. Clearly, he, too, had not enjoyed the Easter festivities on the beach.
