Motel 54

Chapter Eighteen

I lay back against the wooden dock with my feet perched between the slabs of wood that line the river. It was seven, the sun had just began to set and the tide had eased, glimmering a reflection of orange and pink.

Occasionally a flash of silver would erupt from the water or a bird would glide through, but a consistent stillness prevailed.

I ventured outside to clear my head, as thoughts of Matt completely clouded my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about him and I felt powerless under his influence. I didn't like the idea of dedicating all of my attention to a single person, especially one that I knew I had to let go in just nine days.

I loved him. With every fiber of my body, I loved him. Sarcastic comments, crooked smiles, and all, I loved him. I don't think that the words would ever leave my lips but I had written a poem for him this afternoon.

"He was a raging current of ideals and even
infinite time could not permit comprehension-
a violent mind, overflowing with a
colorful myriad of existential thoughts
not begging a passive explanation
but married in an egocentric
image of rationality.

I never saw the electricity cracking
beneath his skin, for his breathless murmurs
and cobalt promises
etched a layer of false certainty
above my untouched lips.

I found his reflection in windows and windows,
clouded squares of glass,
enhanced in breathed smiles.
Self-constructed windows
that he coaxed beneath thick velvet curtains,
so my umber eyes could not beg
the question or impartial answer."

"Delilah, there is a stunning man here to see you." Gram calls, distracting me from my thoughts and throwing her head out from the glass screen door.

He's early, I think. Matt said he would be here at nine, not seven.

I lift my feet from the ground and smooth the edges of my pleated black dress. I run my hands through my curls, lifting the locks in a high ponytail near the top of my head. I allow a few loose tendrils to frame my forehead as they refuse to lie in the velvet scrunchie.

I walk slowly to the patio door, it feels like I'm lifting bricks from my feet in reluctant steps leading to my own demise. I wasn't ready to see him yet, my bare face and disheveled appearance would not work tonight.

"There she is," Jasper calls from the living room. I jump in response to this voice, staring baffled from the door. "I hope you don't mind us showing up, we had to discuss a few things with you about the Redford event next week."

My eyes narrow on Jasper and I see another man next to him. He appears like a younger Rick Redford with much sharper features and a stare that could make any girl unsteady.

"This is Ray, the man who secured you a spot in the showcase."

Ray stands up and I notice that he is significantly taller than me with a built frame and piercing sapphire eyes.

"It is a pleasure, Ms. Traeger." He lifts my hand gently and captures it between both of his own before releasing it and sitting beside Jasper.

I almost forget to breath until Gram rushes in with her tea kettle and her "special occasion" mugs. As long as I can remember, no one was allowed to use those mugs because she had inherited them as antiques in her youth when her mother died. But, seeing as these men would be responsible for catapulting my career, she saw it necessary to use the sacred cups.

"It is so nice to meet you," I say in a quick breath.

Gram giggles under her breath, walking back in the kitchen, most likely to give us privacy.