The guy who was sitting across from Rick (who looked a lot like Huck) smiled. "Well, damn, girl. That's impressive. Next time, slow down a bit though. Heard my brother had to haul you home. Good thing he was around; some real assholes hang out there on ‘Shitfaced Mondays'. They'd try to take advantage of a girl like you."
"We cancelled ‘Shitfaced Mondays', Hayes," Rick reminded him. "On account of your other brother, Hunt, kicking some guy's ass and landing him in the hospital over on the other side of town. Two Mondays in a row."
"Well, I know the first one deserved it; and I'm betting the other one did, too," Hayes said. "But to me, Mondays will always be ‘Shitfaced'." Both men laughed.
I had no idea what either of them were talking about.
"Well," I said. "I feel like a real horse's ass. I'm so embarrassed. I really thought I could handle my liquor … I grew up … " I paused. I was saying too much.
"Where'd you grow up?" Rick asked. "I mean, how does a girl like you, driving a damn BMW, end up in a town like Whitmer?"
"Kentucky," I replied. "And people move all the time, right?"
Rick wasn't stupid. He didn't bother to ask any follow up questions.
"Well," Rick said. "I'm glad you're okay, Belle. What're you in the mood to eat? Hayes is treating."
Hayes rolled his eyes. "Ain't that always how it is? When's the last time you paid for breakfast, Uncle Rick?"
"It's been years," Rick said, winking at me. "But I cooked you and your brothers so many of your meals growing up, I figure you owe me a few."
As if on cue, our waitress arrived at the table, smacking gum and being the stereotypical type of server you see in all the movies. Her nametag even said "Nadine."
"What'cha havin', cutie?" she asked me.
"The breakfast special," I said. "Eggs scrambled."
"You got it," she replied. "Rick, the usual?"
"You know it, Nadine," he said, winking at her. He really was kind of sexy. In that older man sort of way. I could tell Nadine thought so, too. She grinned and giggled.
"Oh, Rick Calloway!" she declared. "You are too much!"
As she walked away I couldn't help but smile. No one was paying attention to me anymore. They were all concentrating on their own small talk and food.
And then the door alarm sounded again.
And in walked Huck.
Suddenly, my stomach dropped. My hunger was gone in an instant. Our eyes met for a moment, his looking confused to find me sitting with his uncle and brother. He stopped for a moment, as if he was thinking of turning around and walking the other way.
But Rick wasn't going to let that happen.
"Huck!" he called out to him. "Look who joined us for breakfast!"
I couldn't even look at him. Not just because I was still mortified about him having to carry me home. But because he was so incredibly sexy that it was painful to look at him. He was the kind of good-looking you couldn't have a poker face around. I was afraid I might drool in his presence, and he'd already seen enough of my bodily fluids.
He sauntered over, and Hayes scooted in so Huck could fold his incredibly tall body into the small booth. Still, one of his long legs had to stretch out next to the table. He was a large, muscular man. So tall, so solid.
I could feel his eyes on me, so I finally looked up.
His gaze was intense, but it was softer today. Last night he'd been more cold, not showing any sort of interest in me.
But today was somehow different.
"Good morning, Belle," he said. "You doing okay?"
I nodded. "Yep. I'm feeling just fine. Thanks."
I knew I sounded clipped, but I was truly so uncomfortable. And I could tell he was too.
I guessed he really didn't like me much.
I seriously needed to get out of Whitmer.
It was an awkward breakfast that mostly consisted of Rick and Hayes talking to each other about hiring new bartenders at The Side Pocket while I inhaled about a thousand calories of waffles without looking up to talk to Huck. I just couldn't.
I was ashamed of how I'd acted last night and I just knew he couldn't stand the sight of me. It was so obvious that I rubbed him the wrong way. He saw me as some drunk, idiot girl who'd made a mess of his bar.
I just wanted to get away. Whitmer was already turning out to be a mistake, and the sooner I got my car filled up with gas and put The Side Pocket in my rear view mirror, the better. Montana was a huge state. There had to be another little town for me to hide in.
After the awkward breakfast was over and I'd said my goodbyes to Rick, Huck, and Hayes, I walked back to the Traveler's Inn, eager to pack up and head on out.
When I reached my room I saw a piece of paper taped to my door. Curious, I pulled it off and read it:
Miss Delford-
Please see us at the office immediately. There has been an issue with your method of payment.
Thank you,
Front Desk
Well, that was weird.
I walked down to the rickety front office of the Traveler's Inn and waited behind a man who was checking out and arguing over charges on his bill.
"I would never rent a movie!" he said. "There's a mistake."
"Sir," the older gentleman who was working the front desk said, his voice clearly one that had dealt with this debate before. "There's no mistake. We don't just charge random guests for movies. You rented this movie last night and you watched it."
"How do you know?" he asked. "Maybe your system is broken!"
The hotel employee shook his head. "It's not. You watched BIG BOOTY HOES 4 at 11 pm last night. And adult entertainment is $12.99 a movie. We can't allow that to go."
I wanted to die. How embarrassing.
"Well," the man said, pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his khakis. "You didn't have to announce that to the entire world. Here." He threw his Visa card on the counter. "Just charge me so I can get the hell out of this terrible town."
There was an uncomfortable silence as the man behind the desk ran the credit card and they waited for it to be approved. The angry guest signed it and was out the door, not even daring to make eye contact with me or anyone else as he left.
As I walked up to the desk, more awkwardness ensued. What is there to say after witnessing something like that?
"Can I help you?" the old man asked, clearly not loving the fact he was here at all or asking me that question.
"Well, I didn't watch any movies," I joked, hoping to lighten the mood. "But I had this note on my door," I said, sliding the paper across to him. "Something is wrong with my payment method?"
"Yes ma'am, your credit card was declined," he said. "I ran it twice."
"Oh," I said, digging through my purse. "That's really weird. Here, try this one." I handed him my MasterCard. The one that had a $20,000 limit. There was no way that wasn't going through. It cost $50 a night to rent a room at this place. I should've had plenty of money to stay there for a year if I'd wanted to.
He ran it, and as I waited for him to print out the receipt he started shaking his head.
"Nope," he said, annoyance in his voice. "This one doesn't work either."
What the fuck?
"That's impossible," I said. "Let me call my bank." I rummaged through my purse again looking for my cell as he rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back."
Once I was outside and could see I had good cell reception, I tried to call my bank back in Kentucky, the same bank I'd been a customer of since I was a child and my father had helped me open my first savings account.
But the call wouldn't go through. My phone was … off. As in the service had been shut off.
I was suddenly sick to my stomach.
Whitmer seemed to be my personal emetic.
Then it hit me.
This was no accident or misunderstanding. It was now clear to me what was going on.
I'd been cut off.
3
I slumped down on the curb outside the front office of the Traveler's Inn and buried my face in my hands.
I mean, seriously: What could I do? All I had were my cancelled credit cards and my now useless cell phone. My BMW was almost completely out of gas; it's why I'd decided to stop here in the first place. I was …
So. Fucked.
I would have cried if I'd had any tears left. I'd left them all in the states I'd driven through. Once I'd reached South Dakota, I'd been completely dried up. After that it had been just me listening to old country stations, crooning along to Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash as I started dreaming about the future instead of the past.