Page 8 of Sailor's Delight
“Oh, wonderful, wonderful.” Ricardo’s grin returned. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Trey? You need something?”
“I think I’m good, Ricardo, thanks.”
Ricardo gave him a thumbs up. “Okay, Mr. Trey. Let me know you need anything.”
Trey returned the sign. “You bet.”
Trey put his hand on the door, but then stopped, his keycard in his hand.
“Everything okay? Your keycard not working?” Ricardo’s face was the picture of concern.
“No, I’m sure it’s fine.” Trey turned to Ricardo, an idea forming in his mind. “Are you married, Ricardo?”
The man blinked in surprise. “Yes, why?” He laughed uncomfortably.
Trey smiled. This could be the solution to his problem. He pointed across the hall with his thumb. “You know the lady in 12359?”
Ricardo glanced at the door and nodded. “Ms. Jenn? Yes. What about her?”
Trey smiled. “We’re actually married.”
Ricardo looked doubtfully between the two rooms, pointing out the distance between them. “Two rooms?” he asked.
Trey shrugged, smiling. “It’s a long story. I won’t bore you with the details. Anyway, I’ve been working on this surprise for her for months now, and I just need somewhere to… pull it off.”
Ricardo’s eyes narrowed slightly. Trey could see he was losing him.
“How long you been married?”
Trey exhaled. “Fifteen years, if you can believe it. This is actually our anniversary trip.”
Ricardo’s face, try as he might, couldn’t hide his suspicion. “Separate rooms?” he asked again.
Trey pushed harder. “Look, I’ve been planning this for months, but I just don’t have a place where I can carry it out.”
Ricardo once more pointed at the rooms. “Rooms not okay?”
“They’re great, just… not enough space for what I have in mind,” Trey said.
“What you have in mind?” Ricardo’s voice was terse, quick. Trey could see he was pushing too hard.
“What I have planned is… fairly private. I just want to be able to do something for her that she’s had coming for a long time. It’s something she’s really wanted.”
Ricardo went back to putting away linens. “Rooms are good, Mr. Trey.”
Trey sighed. He’d clearly lost him. He tried a different tactic.
“How long have you been married, Ricardo?”
“Eight years,” Ricardo said proudly, still tidying.
“Any kids?”
Ricardo nodded. “Our son, Nathaniel.”
“How old is he?”
“Two,” Ricardo said.