“Yep,” she says, patting her pocket.
With a hug and plans to meet up in the morning, our friends walk away, leaving us standing in the middle of the dance floor.
Reaching out, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, before I can think better of it. Her casual touches are becoming contagious. “Do you want to stay and dance some more, or are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go.”
“I can’t find my key card,” Beck says as she spins in circles in the hotel lobby, checking all her pockets. “I swear I had it with me when I left our room. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I checked my phone earlier.”
“We can stop at the front desk and get you a new one—no big deal,” I tell her as I lead the way across the glossy hardwood floor.
The temperature dropped as the night progressed, and the fresh air walking from the bar to the hotel helped me sober up a little.
“My friend has misplaced her key card,” I tell the bored-looking front desk clerk. “Can you give her a new one, please?”
“Room number?” he mutters, raising his eyes slowly from the computer monitor.
“406,” she responds cheerfully.
Expelling a loud breath, he asks, “Name?”
Jesus. Would it hurt this guy to insert some inflection in his voice? I know there isn’t much happening this late at night, but this guy is acting majorly inconvenienced for doing his job.
“Beck Stone,” she smiles sweetly. “Or it could be under Rebecca.”
His fingers tap away on the keyboard for a moment before he looks up. “You’re not on the guest list.”
“Oh, maybe it’s under April’s name?” Biting her bottom lip, she picks at the cuticle of her thumbnail.
“Are you April?” He quirks an eyebrow with his hands hovering over the keys.
“No,” she says slowly, furrowing her forehead and pointing to her chest. “I’m Beck.”
“I don’t know who you are.” He sighs loudly. “I cannot give a key to just anyone, and I don’t see your name as a guest.” He taps his finger on the computer monitor.
“Can you please call Mr. Sinclair to verify that Beck can have a new key? She is his guest tonight,” I ask, trying to remain calm instead of reaching across the counter and grabbing him around the neck.
“Good idea,” she agrees, looking between me and the man across from us. “Yeah, please call Vaughan.”
Slowly picking up the phone, he punches in the numbers, listens for a moment, and then hangs up. “No answer. It went straight to voicemail.”
“What am I supposed to do?” She throws her hands in the air. “All my stuff is in that room.”
“I can’t help you,” he says dismissively, straightening the papers on his desk.
I glance at the name tag on his shirt. Todd. I can’t wait to tell Vaughan how unhelpfulToddwas tonight. Asshole.
“Should I just sleep in the lobby? Maybe in a chair over by the fire?” She gestures wildly towards the other side of the room.
“Hey, come here,” I say, pulling her into my arms before this escalates even further. “It’s fine. You can stay with me.”
“I shouldn’t have to,” she says, resting her forehead on my chest. “You don’t understand. This is supposed to be a fun night away. I’m constantly screwing up the simplest things.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Slowly rubbing my hand up and down her back, I rest my chin on the top of her head. “You misplaced the key card. It could have happened to anyone.”
Releasing her, I take her by the hand and lead her across the polished wooden floor towards the bank of elevators. It arrives quickly, and we step inside together.
“It could happen to anyone, but it always happens to me,” she mutters, eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m so sorry.”
