Wishful Sinful [REVISING]

Part 4: The Journey Begins

It turned out Dorian had been right about Maureen. She gave him a green light on the project without a moment's hesitation. She did ask for a review of last night's show ASAP, in exchange. He figured he could bang it out from his phone or laptop. 

Jared rifled through the closet for a duffle bag and packed a few days' worth of clothes, wondering idly if Lenore had had anything laundered at the hotel. Feeling generous, he packed a few extra shirts for her. Better than nothing. A few toiletries and he'd be all set.

Just as he was about to call August, a text came through from Cecilia. "I got an Uber home this morning, after breakfast. It was a fun night. Good luck with your trip."

Jared felt a surge of relief that his time with Cecilia had been brought to an end, then a whisper of guilt. He hadn't been a very good date. Hopefully, her time with Erik had more than made up for it.

Then she sent him a nude, dripping wet, fresh out of the shower, captioned "This is what you missed," and his fleeting guilt disappeared completely. What a tease!

August sounded a bit groggy when he answered. Jared wondered what mischief, if any, he'd gotten up to while the band entertained Lenore and Cecilia. He agreed to send the hotel's shuttle van to pick Jared up within the hour. August added that Dorian, Haven, and the guys would meet them downstairs, in the lobby, later that night.

A quick call to Lenore netted him her room number. The shuttle arrived quickly, emblazoned with the hotel's name and some pink hibiscus blossoms on the sides. The interior with its double row of bench seats smelled strongly of French fries and aftershave. His driver, Frank, had a zodiac podcast playing through the shuttle's aux cord connection. "Geminis, prepare for the worst but expect the best. You're in for a bit of both this month; but then, navigating extremes is old hat for you," Madam Zoire announced.

Soon enough, he was knocking on Lenore's door. She soon appeared in a fluffy, white terry cloth robe, hair wrapped up in a towel atop her head. "Did you eat?" she asked. "You look like you could eat. I ordered room service. But they said I could."

Jared laughed. "Of course, you did. I had coffee and a bagel at home."

"That's not breakfast! Lucky for you, I ordered extra. It should still at least be somewhat warm. At the table by the window."

First, they sat opposite one another at the small, circular table between the second bed and the window, while Jared feasted on buttered toast, cheesy scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, and orange juice. The hot dishes even had fancy metal lids left on to keep his food warm. Lenore brewed them some coffee with the in-room coffee maker, too. The hotel provided ceramic mugs, stirrers, creamers, a variety of sweeteners, and so many flavors of single-serve coffee pods. He chose Black Silk, while Lenore had Toasted Marshmallow Mocha.

He and Lenore then spent the day watching tacky soap operas shoulder to shoulder on one of the two unmade queen size beds, piled high with fluffy white comforters and the silkiest white sheets. They recounted their adventures while apart during commercial breaks.

Paul had offered to go on the record with his "alien abduction encounters" for a special chapter in her book, and they'd stayed up late talking and drinking. Jared considered asking her if any probing had occurred during the interview but thought better of it, not wanting to encourage Lenore to ask for even juicier details of his night with Dorian than she already had.

Lenore also described the elusive guitarist, Raul, as an off-brand variation on a famous long-haired Latin American actor. They hadn't spoken much, so she had little more to add than that. She did say that Raul had broken up the frivolity a bit, reminding the guys they shouldn't expect him and the stage hands to haul the equipment and dressing room detritus out to the bus by themselves. The guys had playfully given him a hard time about his attitude, suggesting that all that time away from his foxy new wife had made him crabby. This at least made him smile, as he agreed she was indeed a "stone cold fox."