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“And we got you lots of snacks,” I reminded him, handing him the bag. “And you can order room service and watch movies.”
“Anything to keep you safe,” Barry said, taking the bag, then his key, and walking to his door.
“We’ll meet you down here in the morning,” I called. “Get some sleep.”
“You guys too,” he said, but I had a feeling we’d be doing anything but sleeping now that we were finally going to get some time alone.
“My card is gonna be racked up with porn movies, isn’t it?” Junior asked.
“Why would he watch porn on the TV when he has his laptop?”
“Because it’s Barry,” Junior said as we rode the elevator to our floor.
“That… actually that makes sense,” I decided as we moved onto our floor.
I had no idea what kind of room Junior reserved for Barry, but the one he got for us was a suite. It was complete with a living room, a massive bathroom with a soaking tub and shower big enough for five, and a luxurious bedroom with what looked like a California King bed covered in fresh white linens.
I smiled to myself as Junior walked right over to that bed and stripped off the comforter. I’d read once that most hotels only washed them once every two weeks, at most. And the thought of all the people who fucked on them or changed babies on them or did who knew what else on them in that time turned my stomach ever since. I never used the comforters in a hotel.
The bedding itself was washed between guests.
“Word to the wise,” he said after looking around. “Don’t use the coffee pot,” he said. “I read once that maids will sometimes wipe those with the same rags they used for the bathroom. And not necessarily in a hygienic order.”
“I think we read the same article,” I said, giving him a small smile as I walked back out of the bedroom and dropped down onto one of the couches in the living area.
Junior followed me in, dropping down on the same couch instead of the one across from me.
His arm slid behind my back, then curled around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I didn’t even hesitate, I turned on the cushion to drape my legs over his, my face resting on the chest I’d been sobbing in just hours before.
His arms went around me, and he just… held me.
God, it had been so long since I’d just been held, just enjoyed the comfort of another human being.
“You alright?” Junior asked. “Today was a lot.”
It was.
I couldn’t begin to describe the way panic had gripped my system, making me shake. Not only on the outside. It had felt like my insides were jiggling, like my very organs were trembling. My heart had been hammering so hard that I’d been almost certain I was having a heart attack. Both during the shooting and after.
The worry for all the innocent men in the cafe.
The stress of speaking to the police, but not giving them the whole story.
It was all just, as Junior said, a lot.
I sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I feel guilty, mostly,” I told him. “And worried about the future of the shop.”
“There’s nothing to feel guilty about,” he said, his hand stroking up and down the outer side of my thigh. “You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t bring this shit upon yourself. As for the guys in the shop, they all volunteered to be there today. They’re fine.They aren’t blaming you. Not even Barry. As for the shop, I think this can only help,” he said.
“Help?” I snorted.
“Yeah. People who had no idea you existed before will know all about Deja Brew once the news covers it. Don’t do it until we are on the road heading home again, for tracking purposes,” he said, “but update the cafe’s social media accounts. Do some long, sappy post about your beloved store and hoping to get things up and running again as soon as possible so you can see everyone’s faces again. All that jazz. People will flock to your socials once they hear. That will make them want to come and support you when you reopen. What?” he asked, making me realize I was smiling at him.
“You sound like someone who works in marketing, not hacking.”
