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The day was long. Everything seemed to move slower as people chatted and worried about the weather. The predicted storm was supposed to blanket the city for days, and all I could do was cross my fingers and keep running.
I accomplished much that day and kept James Renegade on track with his agenda. The snow kept falling, and there was talk that Chelsea Market might close and stay closed for a few days if the weather got too bad.
When I caught up with James after his last meeting, we headed to the hotel. He looked tired, and irritated, which was nothing unusual. I debated talking but decided silence was probably golden at this moment.
The snow was lovely, but it made me nervous as it was starting to stick and coat everything around us. I couldn’t take it anymore; I was too curious to know what his thoughts were. The last thing I wanted to do was be stuck with James for longer than necessary.
He rubbed me the wrong way, and no matter how much he rubbed me the right way in bed last night, that wasn’t enough. He was annoying, and we were just different people in life.
“So, are they going to close the market?”
“I have no clue. Your guess is as good as mine. I hope not. I don’t want any delays. I have worked back on the west coast, and I don’t want to delay that either.” James was scrolling through his phone.
Annoyed that he couldn’t even hold a decent conversation about anything with me, I stared out the window of the Uber and enjoyed the view. Back at the suite, he was quiet, thoughtful, and — what I began to realize — messy too.
Anything he didn't wear or want, he tossed on the floor like a wayward child without any manners, rules, or character. The moment he took off his shirt and tie, he tossed them on the floor. The snow kept falling harder and faster, and the snowflakes grew bigger and bigger.
By dinner time, there was a lot of snow, and many businesses were closing. Reports online and on the news showed more snow throughout the night. The silence was deafening, and it annoyed me that he lay on the couch like a wild teenager set on being selfish and rude.
“Do you think you can pick up after yourself? It’s only been a few hours since we got back here and this place looks like a frat house — clothing everywhere, bottles, cans, and papers thrown about. Have you no manners?”
“I don’t think, but then again, neither do you asking me such a rude question as that. If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just pick it up? I’m paying you to be my assistant, so assist me in cleaning this mess up while you're doing nothing.”
I felt like crying. Martie got me into this crazy mess, and now I had no choice. I needed the money. I’d worked so hard already, and now we were snowed in. I stared out the window at the glistening white flakes and thought.
“Well, Chelsea is closed for the next few days. According to their website, ‘For the safety of our staff and patrons, due to the inclement weather, we will be closed for three days for safety reasons. We hope you enjoy this beautiful weather event, and we look forward to seeing you soon!’”
“Now what?”
“We get to hang out together for a few extra days until everything opens up. Tomorrow, I want you to rearrange a few meetings I have for next week and see if I can do any virtually while stuck here. There is still plenty of work to do. In the meantime, I guess we can enjoy the amenities of this fine hotel. I’m paying one hell of a premium price for this suite of rooms, and we could enjoy ourselves.” He smiled.
I wanted to smack him because I was getting a headache and I was upset I wouldn’t be able to get away as fast as I wanted. “Unless I can get a massage because my head is hurting, I’m not interested.”
“Consider it done. Give me a minute.”
I watched and waited as he grabbed his phone and made a call. When he hung up, he had that smug, irritating look on his face. “Okay, so tomorrow morning after breakfast you and I can enjoy a couple’s massage, followed by a trip to the hot tub and sauna.”
“Couple’s massage?” I rolled my eyes. “We're not a couple. I work for you and that's it.”
He laughed. “You're very technical, aren’t you? Call it what you want, but we slept together, so you could say we are a couple. Not a permanent couple. Not a steady, committed couple, but you get the idea.”
I got into the spirit of things. “Oh, so were a couple of idiots. Maybe a couple of fools, or a couple of annoyed-to-have-to-be-together people with a common goal.”
The night was long as we ordered room service and dined in the privacy of the room. I was thankful, as I wasn’t looking for another repeat of the night before, as entertaining as it was then.
It was fitting actually. We behaved like two married people or an elderly couple. He scanned through his phone and listened to music while I looked on social media and talked to Martie, who was still sick.
“How are you feeling?” I was cozy on the bed in my pajamas, the covers comfortably curled up around me as the snow took on a blizzard-like feel outside the window.
“Awful. I think I have pneumonia. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, but my throat is so sore, my temperature is up and down, and I can’t get rid of this cough.” She too was curled up in her pristine white bed. “So, you didn't sleep with him, did you?”
On the spot, not wanting to lie, I got tongue-tied. “I, uh, no, well, I can’t say—”
“She did, Martie, and I’m sorry to say it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. I’d planned on stealing you from that boyfriend of yours while you were here, but you lost out, princess.” James sounded amused, quickly climbed into bed next to me, and turned the computer screen towards him.
“James, you didn't. Gwen!”
“What?” I grabbed the computer and turned it my way again. “It was nothing, really. And I mean nothing. I was a bit tipsy. We had some drinks with dinner last night and well, one thing led to another, and it happened. I know what I said, but he’s not your man. He’s not anyone’s man, not even mine. Besides, it won't happen again. Once is enough.”
