“Maybe you just have to be better at keeping up.” She smiled, and instead of being irritated, I found myself biting hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
The other side of the street wasn’t the view that was pictured on postcards. I could still make out the dark abyss of the ocean in the distance, but instead of endless white buildings, there wasa lot of construction, and no businesses. Lila led us down one of the alleys, checking her phone every few seconds.
“You sure this is the right way?” I asked when we passed another abandoned building.
“Yes,” she said confidently, not the least bit fazed. She turned abruptly when we got to a tall copper gate and pushed it open.
Once inside the fence, it was like we were in a different area entirely. A quaint, dimly lit path wound its way between several small white buildings, each with a gated outdoor space and a single chair. In the middle of it all was a modest pool, reflecting the soft glow of the surrounding lights. It might not have been the peak of luxury, but it was a hell of a lot more charming.
An orange cat waltzed right up to us and Lila cooed before dropping to her knees and scratching under its chin. The cat moved on to rubbing against my leg, and I stepped away instinctively.
Lila stood up, looking appalled. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of cats,” she accused.
“Afraid?” I balked. “I’m not afraid. I’m allergic.”
She sighed heavily as if this was some terrible character trait I had just revealed.
“What? I am,” I insisted as Lila led us to the only building with an open door. Inside was a small desk, an old computer, and one of those wooden racks that held a bunch of tourist brochures. Stairs at the back of the room, behind the desk, led upstairs and out of sight.
“Hello?” Lila called.
“Ahh, hello. I’ll be right down.” A friendly voice boomed from above.
A few seconds later a woman, her graying hair swept up into a bun, descended the steps. She wore what looked like a permanent smile, as demonstrated by the faint lines by her eyes and lips.
“I’m Maria,” she said in a thick accent, offering her delicate hand to Lila.
Lila shook it. “Lila. And this is Harrison.”
“Hello,” I said.
“I just made a reservation online.” Lila waved her phone. “I hope it went through alright. We’re in a bit of a bind. We just got here, and we don’t have anywhere to stay.”
“I saw it,” Maria said, gesturing for us to sit in the chairs on the other side of the desk. “Just in time. I stop reservations at ten so I can go to bed.”
“I’m sorry we’re keeping you up.” Lila sat in one of the seats and I plopped down next to her, relieved that we were about to finally have a bed for the night. This had been the longest day in recent memory.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. My husband used to stay up and take the later check-ins, but now it’s just me.” Maria plugged away on the computer as I looked around the modest room. I reached for one of the travel brochures and thumbed it open.
“Where’s your husband?” Lila asked in a gentle voice.
“He passed away.”
I snapped the brochure shut and bumped Lila’s knee with mine so that she could see my dirty look. This woman didn’t want to talk about her life to two strangers.
Lila’s eyes narrowed when she met my gaze, but she kept her voice soft when she said, “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Maria was still focused on her computer screen and didn’t notice our exchange. “That’s life. It was a few years ago; I’m just happy to still have this place.”
“Your hotel is beautiful,” Lila gushed as I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Small talk with strangers wasn’t my strength.
“Thank you.” Maria looked up from the computer to smile at the both of us. “We bought the place thirty years ago.”
“Wow,” Lila breathed. “It’s great. You should be proud.”
Maria nodded, her eyes glassy as she looked around herself. “I am. This area wasn’t a big one for tourists, but now all the big companies are coming in and building hotels around us. So much construction.”
“And your hotel will stand out because it’s long-established and family owned,” Lila said.
