How to Fail at Flirting(36)
Another beat of silence passed before she spoke again. Her voice had softened. “No, Jacob, wait. I’m sorry. That was out of line. You know how I get when I’m stressed. I can’t stand Thomas’s barely legal bride, and I’m worried he’s making a huge mistake.”
“She’s not that young, and he loves her.”
“Love isn’t always enough.” Her voice further softened, and I wondered if they’d walked down the hall.
The edge faded from Jake’s tone by a fraction. “Maybe with the right person, it is.”
I imagined her wincing at his words. When she spoke again, her voice had returned to a louder, more clipped tone.
“You promised you’d keep up appearances around my family. Please do.”
“I already promised I would. I need to go, Gretch. Your brother and the guys are waiting.” Jake’s voice faded as the sentence continued, and I realized he must have been walking away.
Gretchen’s voice was still clear and loud. “Try not to sleep with anyone else on the way to the lobby, will you? My parents are staying in this hotel, too.”
I held my breath, an unrealistic fear taking over my body that she would rush the door and confront me in person, but she remained silent, and then I heard the beep from the room next door.
Walking back across the room and looking for my phone, I released the breath. What the hell? What was I doing standing naked in a room where the scent of sex still hung in the air twenty feet from his wife? I needed advice and dialed Felicia’s number.
Felicia picked up after three rings. “You never call me this early in the morning. What’s going on?”
Remembering Gretchen’s comments about the thin walls, I lowered my voice and slipped into the bathroom. “I need your help.”
“Sure . . . kids are in a Netflix trance. I have a few minutes. Why are you whispering? Are you okay?”
“His wife is in the room next door. She heard us, and now I need to get out of here.”
“Slow down. Back up . . . He’s married?” I pictured Felicia’s knit brow as she tried to make sense of my hurried, hissed speech.
“I just overheard . . . I think he’s separated, but he never said anything about it, and she’s right next door. She heard us. What if she sees me?”
“Just walk out. Unless . . .” She paused, and I heard the smile in her voice. “You’re not, like, tied to a bed or something, are you?”
“No, of course not!”
“Just checking—don’t act like you haven’t been doing a lot of things outside the norm lately!”
“Fel, this is serious. What do I do?”
I leaned against the bathroom counter and caught my reflection. I looked properly sexed up—hair in tangles and my eyes sleepy from the late-night exertions. My late-night exertions with someone else’s husband.
Felicia continued. “I don’t know. What exactly did you hear?”
I recounted the parts I could remember, prickles of embarrassment winding up my body. “It was so bitter.”
“Certainly sounds like two people in a bad marriage.”
I nodded, trying to come up with a plan.
“You’ll be fine, Nay. Take a shower, get dressed, and just walk out.”
Felicia’s reassurance set my nerves slightly at ease. Though, I still pictured this faceless woman cornering me in the lobby and yelling at me for sleeping with her husband while hundreds of strangers looked on.
“Please tell me the sex was at least good, though? If he ends up being a cheating jackass, I want you to have gotten a few good orgasms out of it. I spent the last hour watching a cartoon pig solve mysteries by learning to spell . . . I need adult details.”
I glanced at my reflection again. My chin was a little red from his stubble. I flexed my hand—the outer part of my palm hurt from when I’d smacked it into the wooden bedside table when Jake had done something with his tongue that set me on fire. “I’m not giving you a play-by-play while your kids watch cartoons ten feet away. But yes, it was good.” Great. Amazing. Holy hell.
Felicia sighed. “I like this new version of you, Turner. The confident and sex-crazed version.”
I rolled my eyes, though I kind of liked this version, too. I wondered what would happen in two days when this experiment ended. It was hard to imagine starting over again and trying to flirt with another bartender. “Okay, thanks for talking me down, Fel.”
“Go home and take a nap since you were up all night with Mr. Consultant-the-Wonder-Cock.”
“Jesus, Fel. Aren’t your kids right there?”
“You don’t seem to understand what I mean when I say they’re in a Netflix trance. The house could burn down around them and they wouldn’t notice.”
Following Felicia’s pep talk, I took a quick shower and snuck out of the room, closing the door softly, before almost sprinting to the elevators.
Walk of shame after sleeping with a married man. Seems a fitting addition to the list. Check.
* * *
I tried napping but felt jittery all morning. I paced my small living room, trying to find one thing to focus on, but my head swirled with everything going on.
My job’s in jeopardy.
I’m sleeping with the married consultant hired to make that decision.