Page 45 of Rich and Rotten

After unpacking my clothes, I checked emails and tried to check in with Bloom. It was hard to get her on the phone these days. Every time I called, it went to voicemail, or she’d claim her phone had died.

She was distant now. It wasn’t like she was cold and brushed me off; Bloom seemed like she was somewhere else. It was as if she had secrets she wouldn’t open up and share with me. I remember the times when we used to tell each other everything.

With Sav locked up, I thought maybe things would shift in our relationship. I had hoped that the tension we felt when Sav was around would ease, and we could get everything back on track. I missed laughing with my sister and our late-night gas station runs, where we would sit in the car and talk about everything or nothing at all. Or when we would stay on the phone until sunrise and then fall asleep still on the line.

Tatiana was my best friend and I loved our bond, but there was something about the connection I had with my sister. It was hard when you felt like someone you loved was gradually slipping out of your grasp, and there wasn’t anything you could do. I tried to give her space and not crowd her with my opinions or views, thinking it would help us grow closer. If anything, she pulled away even more.

I knew a lot of her distance had to do with Sav. She disliked her––to put it mildly––and thought I was settling. She said Sav made me small, and I just accepted it because I thought I was in love. I really did. I believed Sav was my forever, and I had finally found the person meant for me. Maybe Bloom was right, but I struggled to admit it––not just to her, but to myself, too.

My phone chimed, cutting through the silence I had found myself in. The screen lit up in the dark, casting a glow across the room where I had fallen asleep. I kept staring at the high vaulted ceiling, praying it was her. Maybe she saw my missed call and wanted to talk. My hand blindly felt around on the night table until I secured the phone within my hand. Bringing it toward my face, I looked at the text message.

Jonah: Open the door.

I stared at the screen for a few more seconds before pulling the covers from my body. The warm breeze floating through the curtains of the open balcony door explained why I slept so well.

Snatching my oversized college T-shirt off the table in the corner, I pulled it over my bare chest and panties while slowly walking toward the door.

Standing on my toes, I peered through the peephole, then quickly unlocked and opened the door to see Jonah standing there. He was dressed down in a grey sweatsuit, luggage in one hand, over-the-ear headphones hanging around his neck. His facial expression told me that he was pissed off. His jaw was clenched, like he was two seconds from making someone regret breathing the wrong way. I pulled the door open wider, letting him in, and slowly shut it behind us.

“What happened?”

He dropped his backpack onto the small table by the door with a thud, setting the headphones beside it.

“Makes sense why they wanted the meeting to be this weekend.” Jonah muttered, his voice low and heated.

He peeled his hoodie from his body, tossing it over his suitcase. Everything about the way he moved around my room screamed that he wanted to rip someone’s head off.

“Why?”

He was pacing again, muttering, too deep in his head to even realize he had ignored my question.

“I finally land after a long-ass flight, and you think a driver would be waiting, right?” He scoffed, getting upset all over again. “Nah. No driver. I shook the shit off and caught an Uber to the hotel, ready to shower and get some sleep before tomorr—”

“You flew commercial?” I interrupted without thinking.

Jonah turned and looked at me like I had just spit in his face.

“The fuck is wrong with commercial, Yalina?” he snapped, eyes narrowing. “You think I’m about to waste jet fuel for one damn person?”

I held my hands up, smirking a little. “I was just asking a question. Damn.”

Jonah shook his head, muttering something under his breath about being spoiled, as he dropped onto the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck like the day had beat the shit out of him.

“That big-ass wellness spa conference is this weekend. My room was overbooked, apparently, and the bitch at the desk said I needed to wait until morning for a manager.”

It made sense why it was so packed when we were checking in earlier.

“I should call and wake that bitch up right now. What they mean overbooked? He asked us to come here.” He continued to massage his neck while muttering to himself.

Jonah wasn’t the type who said things just to say them. If he said it, he meant every word. I had about four seconds to talk to him down before he made it everybody’s problem.

“You don’t need to blow it up right now.” I quickly jumped in. “My room’s got enough space. You can crash here for the night.”

He lifted his head and locked eyes with me. “Why the fuck you think I’m here, Yummy? I was staying with you anyway.”

I rolled my eyes and crossed the room to grab my phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up. It was a little after midnight, and I didn’t have the energy to argue with him about how he was in the process of hijacking my room.

“Guess you can sleep over there on the couch,” I said flatly, nodding toward the velvet kidney bean-shaped couch in the corner.