Page 46 of Room 1212
She turned to look at him, and she was wearing a mischievous smirk. She was always up to something, which made her great fun to work with. Today, though, he had a feeling it was going to cost him. “Yes?” she asked, a little too sickly sweet. “What can I help you with, Patrick?”
“Was that Jordan Kepler I saw a few minutes ago?” he asked, though he was quite certain he hadn’t been mistaken.
“Mayyyybe,” she drawled.
Patrick’s lips thinned. “And could you please tell me what room he’s staying in?”
“What’ll you give me for it?” she asked, her grin widening.
Fuck off, Patrick thought to himself, even as he pulled out his wallet. Damn his obsession with Jordan Kepler. All these payoffs were going to make him go broke. “I’ve got 20… 22 dollars.” He held the bills up, but Emily paused, debating if there was something else she could squeeze out of him.
In that time, Roland grabbed the check-in book and flipped it open. “He’s in room 619.”
“Roland!” Emily snapped. She made a quick grab for the money in Patrick’s hand, but he’d already shoved it straight back in his wallet.
“Thanks, Roland,” he said with a smile.
Patrick ran back to his locker real quick to grab his flash drive, and he changed into his uniform so he didn’t give off stalker vibes. A short trip up in the elevator, and he soon found himself in front of Jordan’s door. He knocked softly before he could chicken out.
A moment later, the door swung open, and Jordan appeared, wearing one of the hotel’s complimentary robes. His eyes sparkled as he took in his visitor. “Ah, Patrick! I was wondering if I would see you.”
“Are you here to finish a new book?” Patrick asked excitedly, fishing for clues on the next release. “If there’s anything I can do to help—maybe run to the store for supplies or any weird food cravings—I’ve got your back. You can count on me.” He realized he probably sounded desperate, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to tone it back.
“That’s a very kind offer,” Jordan said, nodding. “Honestly, though? I’m not getting much writing done. This is less of a writing retreat and more of a… getaway.” He gave a little wink.
Patrick peeked over Jordan’s shoulder into the room and saw rumpled sheets on the bed, and he could hear the shower running. “Ahhh,” he said, tapping his nose. “Say no more. Your secret is safe with me.”
Jordan laughed. “I appreciate it, but it’s not much of a secret. We actually just got married. We could only swing a babysitter for one night, so we decided to have a little sneak peek of a honeymoon, then we’ll take a real trip as a family later.”
“Congratulations! Would you like me to bring up some champagne? It’s on the house.” Patrick wasn’t entirely sure if the hotel gave away bottles of their hundred-dollar bubbly, but he’d find a way to make it happen, even if he had to pay for it himself.
“That won’t be necessary, but I appreciate the offer. Alcohol is not allowed on my current diet.” He patted his stomach and waggled his eyebrows so that there was no question what he was implying.
“Oh. Oh!” Patrick gasped, clutching his hands at his chest. “Congratulations twice over! I’m sure I can find something non-alcoholic for you instead.”
Now that the offer had been made, Patrick stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how to approach his request, and his nerves had his guts churning and his palms sweating. He gulped through a tight throat.
“Is there anything else?” Jordan asked, raising his eyebrows. He seemed amused rather than annoyed.
“Uh… I was, um, just wondering if…” Patrick reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive. Jordan accepted the stick, waiting for an explanation. “M-maybe you could read m-my book and—” He was struck by a sudden realization. This probably happened all the time to Jordan, some wannabe author passing him his manuscript in the hopes of being noticed. “You know what? Never mind.” He reached out and snatched back the drive from Jordan’s fingertips. “You probably hear that all the time. I didn’t mean to be so cli—”
Jordan’s hand flew up between them like a stop sign. “Don’t you dare say cliché!” Jordan yelped, grimacing. Patrick didn’t fight him as he took the drive back. “I actually don’t hear it as often as you’d think. If you’re serious about writing and you’re interested in some honest feedback, I can absolutely read this for you. But please, don’t take anything I say as gospel. If your passion is to publish a book, then you go for it. Don’t let what anyone else says deter you from it. Be fierce. Be relentless. And above all, have fun!”
“Y-yes, of course,” Patrick spluttered, feeling beyond pleased with himself.TheJordan Kepler was going to read his book.Gods, I’m going to barf.
He didn’t barf, though. He somehow managed to choke out a farewell before heading down to the kitchen to find some sparkling apple cider, as promised. He prepared a little tray for the newlyweds, with some complimentary cake, then added a glass jug full of pickle spears—just in case.