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“Do you see customers lining up to check in today?” I ask, though perhaps fate is not on my side because the instant I ask that question another car pulls up. Some woman gets out of her car with an overnight bag on her shoulder. Luckily, I have Hope distracted.
“What? Well, they haven’t, but—”
“Then you can’t afford to turn down business and I’ve decided I’m staying my second week.”
“But I don’t want you here!” she screams—loudly.
The woman that got out of the car stops mid-step.
“Are you the owner?” she asks, her voice unsure.
I could almost grin, but I don’t think that would aid my cause right now, so I do my best to resist—mostly.
“What? Yeah.” Hope asks, and I don’t think she’s caught on yet. Either that or I just bring out the best in her. Because, without so much as taking a breath she looks back at me. “Will you just leave? I don’t want you here. I don’t care if I never rent another room. I don’t want you here!”
“Are you staying here?” the woman asks and this seems like a prime opportunity so I go with it.
“Yeah. I paid her two weeks in advance and now she’s trying to kick me out.”
“You’ve already paid her?”
“Two weeks in advance,” I say doing my best to make my voice sound dejected.
“That’s horrible!” she says, clearly upset on my behalf.
“What? No you didn’t. You paid for one week and we tentatively agreed to the second and—”
“I paid for this week this morning,” I supply helpfully. “As per our original agreement,” I add, again being helpful.
“You paid for… How? You couldn’t have.”
“I slipped it under your door this morning in an envelope. Cash just like you demanded.”
“She demanded you pay in cash?”
“She didn’t want to have to report the income I think,” I answer, feeling extra helpful.
“That’s not it! I needed to pass inspection before—”
“You haven’t passed inspection?” the woman asks, worriedly.
“Who are you?” Hope asks, turning on her and I have to say, it seriously makes me a dick, but I’m thoroughly enjoying myself here.
“I’ve been traveling all night and I was looking… has she really not passed inspection?” the woman asks, after stopping mid-sentence to look at me with the question.
“Leave!” Hope, growls.
“What?” the woman demands, clearly shocked. Her back goes stiff too. I can sense a catfight coming and I spend a brief moment wondering if I could gather up some mud and that bathing suit that Hope was wearing yesterday.
“You heard me! I said leave! I’m not open for business! I don’t want your business and I especially don’t want yours! Both of you, just get out of here and leave me alone!” she cries.
“I can’t believe this! You can be sure I’ll be leaving this place a horrible review online!” the other woman says, stomping off. Which is sad. Sad, because I know I’ve missed the perfect opportunity for naked-chick-mud-wrestling.
“Yelp makes it easy to review!” I yell out after the lady, again because for some reason today I’m feeling extra helpful.
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll be hitting you where you will be sure to yelp. Now get out of the pool, go to your room, pack your damn stuff and get out.”
“I already paid you,” I shrug.
“I’ll bring the money to you. I want you gone and if you’re not loaded up and out of here in the next twenty minutes I will call the law to escort you!”
She stomps off, and I find myself watching her ass, even as I get up out of the pool. I watch as she gets to the motel entrance. She leans over to a small bench and picks up the toy trucks her son was playing with yesterday. They’re metal and large enough it takes both hands for her to hold them—one in each hand.
“I’m not leaving, Hope,” I yell after her, before she can leave and go back in the motel.
She freezes, looks up at me and she’s so pissed I should probably be worried. Instead I find myself wondering what make-up sex would be like with her.
Sometime yesterday I had pretty much decided to stick around until I got Hope back in my bed. She’s on birth control and for some reason I find myself enjoying being around her—even when she’s bitching like a shrew. I’ll fuck her until I no longer wake up craving her taste on my lips and don’t miss the smell of vanilla on the sheets. Then I’ll move on. It’s simple.
I won’t let her in on my plan. I’ve got a feeling she wouldn’t be receptive, at least not yet.
“You are leaving!” she demands, standing about five feet away.
“I’m not. Sorry babe. We had a deal.”
“I’m not your babe. And you’re leaving.”
“I’m not. I have your agreement in writing that you are renting this motel to me for an entire week for the agreed amount of one thousand dollars. You emailed it to me when I first contacted you. Remember? Therefore, you have my money, plus the twelve hundred I paid you last week. I doubt a cop around would escort me out of here. Actually, I rather think it would be you they investigate.”
