Page 21 of After The Storm

He pointed toward the coffee table where a white bag with grease stains sat. “I got you a cheeseburger and fries, but they must be ice cold and hard as rocks by now. Do you want me to go down to the restaurant and get you something hot?”

“No, that’s okay. I bet they’re not too bad. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

The truth was she didn’t want to be alone in that hotel room anymore.

“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. I’m going to grab a shower, and then I want to sit down with you and talk about what needs to happen next.”

Then he turned and walked into the bathroom without giving her a chance to ask about exactly what he meant. What were the choices as to what should happen next? Did one of them involve finding a way to make the police understand she had nothing to do with her boss’s murder and his client’s while at the same time protecting her from those very same police?

Because if not, she didn’t know what they’d be talking about because those were the only things she worried about.

The sound of her stomach grumbling reminded her that she really did want something to eat, so she padded across the floor and grabbed the bag of food. Reaching in, she touched the French fries and cringed.

Ice cold, just as he’d said. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and how bad could cold, greasy French fries be?

Two bites into one and she knew the answer. Very bad. Disgusting bad.

Had he brought her a drink? She scanned the hotel room but saw no cans of soda.

Maybe the room had a little refrigerator with some water. She walked over to the dresser that held the TV and opened the doors on the bottom. Inside, she found a refrigerator.

“Please let there be even a single bottle of water. Just one will do the job,” she said as she pulled open the door.

Before her eyes, she saw two bottles on the center shelf. Never before had she been so thrilled at the sight of a bottle of water. She grabbed one and quickly twisted off the top before drinking nearly the entire thing.

“Thank God for water.”

Her need for a drink satisfied, she tossed the bag of gross food in the garbage and picked up Roman’s watch. Heavy in the palm of her hand and real gold, it fit him to a T. She positioned it next to her arm and was impressed by how it dwarfed her wrist. Then she noticed the numbers on the face were Roman numerals.

“Just Roman who likes Roman numerals.”

Something about the fact that he chose that watch impressed her.

She set it back on the dresser as her gaze dropped to the wastebasket on the floor near her feet. Next to the bag of cold food sat that white napkin he’d taken out of his pocket and looked at for a moment before throwing it away. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she reached down to pick it up.

A dab of ketchup had dropped onto it, along with a piece of yellow American cheese stuck to it, which made it disgusting, but she still lifted it out of the garbage. It looked like any other cocktail napkin in the world, but turning it over, she saw writing on it.

Cheri Room 515

She didn’t know why, but that made a pain form in the pit of her stomach. Had he been with this Cheri person in her hotel room three floors up all day while she slept in this room alone?

Tossing the napkin back into the garbage, she mumbled, “Nice job protecting me, Roman. How nice that you could fit in Cheri in Room 515.”

Why did she feel anything about that at all? What right did she have to be jealous? She’d only known him for a forty-eight hours, and nearly twenty-four of that had been filled with her sleeping, so she actually only knew him for a day.

A single day.

One day and she hated the idea that he had spent time with some woman up on the fifth floor.

Kate knew what spent time meant. That made her even more jealous. Had he been upstairs having sex with a woman while she slept?

So what if he had? She had no claims on him. None at all. But how long had he known this Cheri woman? Had he called her to come over once Kate fell asleep? Or had she been someone he met downstairs at the restaurant when he went down to get her that cheeseburger?

That meant he knew her even less than he knew Kate, yet he’d slept with her?

Kate’s mind raced as jealousy began to eat her up. Jealousy she felt childish even admitting to. But jealousy nonetheless.

Consumed by it, she walked over to the bathroom door and threw it open. Then she stormed into the steam filled room and stared at the closed shower curtain as a million things to say ran through her mind.