Everywhere: Book 3 of the Nowhere Trilogy

26. Don't Stop Believin'

Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world - Journey

12:38 AM, Tuesday, December 28, 2021

What is that supposed to mean? A half-wink. A nod towards Hélène. Raised eyebrows. Chele knows he's attempting to send some sort of message, but she cannot decipher it to save her life. Does he want to invite the photographer up to his room? Is he hoping to release some sexual energy with the Frenchwoman?

Anger courses through her body at the thought. Rapidly she begins gathering her items, wanting to be gone as quickly as possible. Holy hot tamales! Her boyfriend wants to sleep with his former lover. Why hadn't he said something? Chele is willing to help him out of his situation anytime he desires. After all, he's the one who made up this stupid rule about not having sex yet. Of course if he can flip a switch and turn off his feelings for Chele long enough to screw Hélène, then he's not the person she thought he was anyway.

"I'll leave you two alone to finish the photo then," Chele spits out the words as she slings her bag over her shoulder, pulling her coat around her more tightly as if it can somehow protect her from the hurt feelings that were inevitable when he decided to do the deed with the photographer. Avoiding eye contact with either of them for fear her emotions will show, Chele stalks towards the exit.

"Chele! Wait!" Harry calls, but she refuses to pause. Once on the street, she starts jaywalking towards the hotel. Her attention is snagged by the bar adjacent to her lodgings. With a deep breath, she pushes open the door and a wave of sound washes over her. It's live music with a fairly small audience. In fact, she can count the number of viewers on one hand. What a contrast to the musical experience she witnesses most nights as part of her job. Of course, this band is awful. Their sound is a mixture of a dentist's drill, squealing bike brakes, and a panther in heat. Making her way to the bar, she hangs her computer bag over the back of the stool before climbing into the seat.

"Give me a whiskey. Neat."

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12:38 AM, Tuesday, December 28, 2021

"Chele! Wait!" Harry rises from the seat, prepared to chase her down. He finds himself unable to move however, as Hélène's hand is wrapped around his wrist.

"Laissez-la partir," the Frenchwoman says. "Nous avons time alone. Shall we go dans votre chambre? Or do you want un autre drink d'abord?"

What the fuck is she talking about? His girlfriend just stormed out of the place, and he could swear there were tears in her eyes. How did the situation get out of control? His eyes roam the space, noticing a few other Soho House members in the vicinity. Not good. He can't make a scene without losing his privileges at the exclusive hotel, and he's confident Hélène is going to throw a giant hissy fit when he reminds her that he's not interested in no uncertain terms this time as she seems to have not received his previous message.

"Come on," he barks, heading for his room. If there was anywhere else he could have this conversation, he would. One of the things that sucks about being on the road is having no privacy available for delicate situations.

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12:41 AM, Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Oh! Il est brusque, and Hélène had already felt the hardening in his pantalon. Heureuse coïncidence she préfère rough sex parce que that seems to be where this is heading. Gathering her items, she thrusts everything into her computer bag, slinging her camera strap over her shoulder. Finally she's going to get exactement what she deserves. Her insides tingle as she anticipates the touch of his finger on her skin.