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At least this trip is almost over. What happened between us will be easier to forget when we’re back on the trading floor. Back to business as usual. Because it’s obvious Nora wants us both to forget our encounter, and that’s hard to do when she looks so pretty with her messy hair and soft eyes. California really does look good on her. Which is exactly why I need to get the hell out of here.
I’m in danger of letting my guard down. Maybe I already have. And if that’s the case, I’m putting my future, my family’s too, at risk.
“Thanks,” she says at last, carefully prying the latte from my hand so our fingers don’t touch. “Coconut milk is great.”
“Phew,” I say, wiping the not-so-pretend sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. Kill me now. “Ready to hit the road?”
She nods, turning back to her bill which she folds and slides into an envelope. She drops it into her bag. “The bellhop has a car waiting for us.”
We make our way through the front doors in excruciating silence. Luckily my phone won’t stop buzzing, so I grab it with my free hand, grateful for the distraction. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I answer it.
“Theo Morgan.” I slow my steps when I realize it’s an automated message from our airline. Pivoting my phone away from my mouth, I say, “Wait, no—Frasier, our flight. It’s . . . shit, it’s canceled.”
Nora turns her head, eyes wide. “No.”
“Yup. Weather.” I hang up when the message is complete. “Even better, I’ve apparently been rebooked on a flight that leaves tomorrow morning.”
“Probably means everything else to Charlotte is canceled today too. Don’t tell me we actually got that winter storm.” She pulls her phone out of her bag and, glancing at the screen, she frowns. “Didn’t realize I had it on silent, but yeah, looks like I’ve been rescheduled too.”
“Here, let me call Rebecca and see what she can do.” Rebecca is our desk’s administrative assistant who handles our travel. She picks up on the first ring, but she doesn’t have good news to share.
“They’re calling for four inches of snow today, and another two tonight,” she says excitedly as I do my best to dodge several people making a beeline from their arriving taxis and Ubers to the front desk. “They shut down the airport today, and it’ll probably be closed tomorrow too.”
I glance uneasily at the growing crowd entering the hotel. “What about Atlanta? Columbia? Could we fly into there and then drive?”
“Let me check.” Keys clack. Nora’s on her phone now, probably with the airline. “Hm. There are a few seats still available on a flight to Atlanta out of LAX this afternoon, but car rentals anywhere in the south are completely sold out. Guess you’re not the only one with that idea.”
“So you’re saying there’s no way to get home today.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath for that flight tomorrow, either. Supposed to get icy.”
Looking at Nora, my stomach drops again. I wouldn’t ordinarily be too miffed about being stuck in California for a couple extra days, especially over a weekend. But being stuck with the girl whose pussy I can’t stop thinking about—a pussy I can’t touch or taste again—is a whole different ball game.
“I have to get home,” I growl.
Rebecca sighs. “I’ll do my best. In the meantime, I’ll extend your stay at the Four Seasons another night.”
“Better do that quick. Place is packed. Oh! Nora’s gonna need a room too.”
“On it.”
I hang up, and a minute later Nora does too. She shakes her head.
“Airline?” I ask.
“Yup. No luck. Rebecca?”
“No luck there either, but she—okay, she’s calling me again, hang on.”
“I have good news, and I have bad news,” Rebecca says. “Which do you want first?”
I pull my thumb and forefinger across my eyelids. “Good, I guess.”
“Your suite’s still available for tonight.”
“Okay.”
“But all other rooms are booked.”
My stomach is doing back handsprings now. “What about—?”
“Other hotels in Santa Barbara? Booked. It’s the Super Bowl. I even looked all the way down in San Diego, but everything’s sold out up and down the West Coast.”
“You have to be joking. What are we supposed to do?”
Nora’s looking at me now, and I can tell she’s starting to panic too.
“Go talk to the front desk and see if you can get on a cancellation list or something. Someone is bound not to show up.”
“What if they do, though?”
“They won’t. Keep the faith, Theo.”
I hang up and do exactly that, telling Nora to wait outside while I figure out our room situation.
I’m sweating bullets by the time it’s my turn at the front desk. The gentleman there politely but firmly tells me my suite has been booked under my name for another night, but that there are no other rooms available.
