Shine Not Burn(33)

I shampooed my hair and frowned in concentration. Where is he now? Did he just take off after we did the nasty and say, ‘See ya, thanks for the screw’? Where did I go after? Why wasn’t I here when Candice got back? What was I doing and who was I doing it with?

I didn’t have the answers, and it bothered me on several levels, mostly because I felt like I really should remember. Like something important had happened, maybe even more important than crazy monkey sex.

Candice came in and sat on the toilet. “I feel like a warmed over cat turd,” she said, slapping at the toilet paper roll, trying to make the paper spin off. It wasn’t cooperating.

“You look slightly better than one, though,” I said, the devil taking my tongue and torturing my friend with it.

“Yeah, well, hurry up and get out of there so I can have my turn.”

“Isn’t there another bathroom in this fancy suite?” I asked rinsing the conditioner out of my hair.

“Yeah, but it smells like Kelly-barf, so no thanks.”

I squeezed the excess water out of my hair and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself. “Okay, here you go. I’m done.” I got out of the shower and left her to her business. When I stepped out into the room, I found Kelly standing by the end of the bed looking at a little piece of paper.

“What’s that?” I asked pulling some underwear out of my bag and sliding it on under my towel.

“Not sure.” She flipped it over. “Some kind of claim check, I think.”

I walked over and took it from her. All it had was a number on it, no other identifier. “Did we put our luggage or a coat or something somewhere?”

Kelly shook her head. “I don’t remember doing it, but I guess it’s possible.”

I put the paper in my bag. “I’ll keep it just in case.”

Kelly shrugged. “Okay. I’m going to get dressed. When does our plane leave?”

I looked at the clock on the bedside table. “Three hours. Better hurry up. I need to eat something.” I was hoping it would calm my stomach to put some food in it. I couldn’t remember ever being this hung over. “Those margaritas or whatever they were kicked my butt.”

“Tequila is pronounced ta-kill-ya. It’s not a joke.” Kelly left the room.

I stood there for a second in silence. The nagging feeling that this paper Kelly had found was important wouldn’t go away. I walked back over to the bag and pulled out the ticket. “Where did you come from?” I asked it. The ticket didn’t respond.

Picking up the telephone, I hit the button for the receptionist. When a man with an Indian accent answered I used my best attorney-conducting-discovery voice.

“Hello. Hi. This is Andie Marks in room … oh, you already know. Okay, well, the reason I’m calling is I found a claim check I think in my room, and I was wondering if you could tell me what I asked you to hold there … in your baggage room, maybe? Last night is a little fuzzy for me.”

“What is the number on the claim check, please?”

I read it off to him and waited on hold.

While I was listening to the hold music, a yelp and a scream came from the bathroom.

“What happened?!” I yelled at Candice through the door. I couldn’t make the phone stretch far enough to go see her.

“I’m sorry, Andie, I really am!” Candice shouted back, her voice a little muffled.

“About what?”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! I just accidentally knocked your cell phone into the toilet!”

“Well, get it out!” I screamed. A feeling of dread crept over me. All my client contacts were in there and a million emails. I had them all backed up, but this would mean an entire day of being out of contact with my office. Talk about a nightmare.

“I did!” She stuck her head out the door. “But I think I killed it. I’m so, so sorry.” She looked ready to cry.

I was about to give her a serious guilt trip, even though it was pretty much my fault for leaving the stupid thing on the back of the toilet, but the reception guy came back on the line so I just frowned at her sternly and waved her away.

“Ma’am, are you still there?” He sounded possibly nervous.

“Yes, I’m still here.” Still here and now doubly annoyed.

“Well … there appears to be a slight problem.” Yep, he was definitely, positively nervous.

“How so?” I asked, feelings of misgiving washing over me. What did I leave at the desk? Please don’t let it be a monkey.

“Well, some gentlemen came to reception this morning insisting that we held their bags for them yesterday, but they were unable to produce a claim check. We allowed them into the baggage room and, well …”