Chapter Eight
Marcus
My mother didn’t answer my calls the night before, but I didn’t sweat it. I felt the conversation I wanted to have with her needed to be had in person. So, after my third call attempt, I put my phone down and focused on the road. I tried with all my being not to think of Zamora, but it was like memories were hitting me one after another. I thought about the day we met. It was our senior year of high school, and she was working with a local catering company. I was hanging around my family’s hotel, helping here and there like always, and we collided while she was transporting empty pans back to the kitchen.
Grateful neither of us were injured by the stainless-steel pans flying everywhere, we both frowned at the crumbs of food that soiled the carpet. Her head tilted down towards the floor, and I felt horrible because I had bumped into her.
“I ’m so sorry,” I said, collecting the pans from the floor and restacking them as quickly as possible.
Looking defeated , she shook her head.
“You should watch where you’re going, dude,” she huffed and began cleaning up the food that had fallen out of the pans using her bare hands. “I could lose my job. I have very little time to restock the food.”
“Listen, just take these. I ’ll clean up this mess,” I said, pushing the pans in her direction.
She scowled, stood up, took the pans , and hurried off. Once I cleaned the area, I went to the front desk to inquire what time the event would end. that space was reserved for. When they said 10 p.m. would be the end time, I popped in around 9:45 and watched the crowd grow smaller. I scanned the room, and when I spotted her again, I focused on her because she moved around the room swiftly , working like a busy, dedicated employee. She showed how true she was to her job; I instantly admired that. After everything was broken down and cleaned, I stayed within a small distance of her and her coworkers as they exited the building. I rushed out. I had no idea if she had her own wheels or if her man would pull up next, but I didn’t want to risk never seeing her again.
“Can I talk to you,” I asked, interrupting her and a couple of her coworker’s conversations. All eyes landed on me, and then I cleared my throat. Even though it was awkward, I did not back down. “I’m sorry for the interruptions, ladies,” I added with a smile, and they all smiled at me before giving us a little space.
“Not bad, Zamora,” one of her co-workers said as she eyed me, walking away slowly.
“What’s up?” she asked casually. I tried to detect what vibe she was giving, but I knew nothing about her, so I just made my move.
“I know this may be a little strange, but I wanted to talk to you before you left.”
She looked me in the eyes with a look of curiousness on her face. “Why and about what? Did you want to apologize again for knocking the pans out of my hands?” she asked, that time giving me a slight smile.
I smiled back, “Yes, I do, and I would also like to introduce myself. My name is Marcus, and I am so sorry for bumping into you earlier. I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I just want you to know how truly sorry I am,” I expressed with sincerities ’ and then held my breath. I stared her in the eyes, hoping she’d accept my apology that time, because she didn’t care one tiny bit about my apology earlier that evening.
Now smiling brighter, she spoke through her pretty glossed lips. “All is forgiven, Marcus, and I am Zamora. Everybody calls me Zee.”
“Zamora, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. It is so awesome to meet you .”
“Thank you, and it’s nice to meet you too .”
We both stared quietly for a brief moment, and then I snapped back to my mission. “I know this may be odd because we just met, but I’d like to see you again. I mean, if you don’t have a boyfriend. If you do and say no, I ’ll live with that.”
A cute, shy grin formed on her face. “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I ’d like to see you again, Marcus.”
“Can I have your number?” I asked nervously.
“Sure,” she answered, and then a loud horn blasted from behind us in the hotel ’s circular drive. I patted my front and back pockets for my cell, and it wasn’t on me. She looked over her shoulder and then back at me. “That ’s my dad, and I gotta go, Marcus. Maybe I ’ll see you again,” she said, backing away and proceeding to the car.
“Call the hotel. My parents own this place, and I’m always here; call and ask for me or leave your number if I’m not around . I promise I’ll call you.” I said in a rush, and she looked up at the sign.
“I will ,” she said and then got into her dad’s minivan . I watched the girl of my dreams roll away and hoped she’d call.
I walked back into the lobby and went to the front desk first and chatted a bit with the night staff before getting on the elevator and riding up to the penthouse. It was what the industry called manager’s quarters, but it was home to me. It was a spacious three-bedroom, three-and-a -half-bathroom penthouse with amazing views. My parents would always say they’d turn it into a sellable suite once they bought a home, but from the looks of it , they’d never leave. I got off the elevator, and my parents both greeted me with smiles. “Marc, you were down there pretty late tonight. Did you manage not to get into any trouble,” my mom asked before taking a sip of her ginger tea.
“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore, and you still ask me that question daily . I mean, I set off the sprinklers, one maybe ten times doesn’t make me a menace,” I joked and kissed her on the forehead and then flopped down on the sofa next to my dad. His eyes were on the soccer game on the tube, and he wasn’t drinking tea.
“Listen, your troublesome days are not long behind you, Mr. Let’s steal a bottle of liquor from the hotel bar and go into a vacant room to hang out with my friends,” she reminded me. Yes, that had just happened during the last school year after the homecoming dance, but I did the time for my crime , and I didn’t want to keep being reminded of my foolish choices.
“All accurate, but one more year, I ’ll be out of here and away at school, so my every move can’t be detected.” Hotel living was for the birds because every staff member knew me, and since we were downtown, a car took me and picked me up from school. I hardly had any friends over , and to get from under my parent’s thumb was like mission impossible. My parents wanted me to know all things hospitality, so I knew everything that I could possibly know about the property we lived in and the others that we owned.
“I don’t know why you want to waste our money on college when you know everything about the business, son. Going to college to get a degree to do the exact thing that you can do without spending a ton of money makes absolutely zero sense ,” my father said, getting up to pour himself another whiskey on the rocks. That was his drink.
“Dad, I told you that I want to go for technology; that’s not a waste of money,” I said for the millionth time.
“Again, a waste of money when we have several properties that will someday be yours,” he said and sat .
“Your father is right, Marc. These properties are a lot of work, son, and we are depending on you and your cousins to step up. We are ready to travel and live our lives.”
“What about my life,” I mumbled .
“What, huh, what was that?” my mom asked, rising from her relaxed position on the sofa and giving me a look.
“Nothing,” I said and stood to head to my room.
“I didn’t think so. This family has worked our fingers to the bone to get where we are and to give you youngster a great life and a good future,” she started in her Spanish accent even though she was born right here in the U.S.A . but she sounded like all of the women in my family. I did not want to hear tonight’s lecture about how our people came to this country and started from the bottom, so I interrupted.
“Mom, Mom, please, it ’s late. Relax and enjoy your tea, okay? I promise I won’t bring shame to the family name, like Cousin Sean or Uncle Ramos. I love y’all goodnight ,” I said and went to my room. There wasn’t anything wrong with my parents wanting this life for me . I knew they meant well and only wanted to give their children a better life than they had. That is why I have four flat screens and every game system known to man in my room. I had built four computers on my own, and I was the IT guy for our family’s properties, but that wasn’t good enough for them.
They wanted me to own and manage five-star hotels, which sounded great when I was a kid, but once I had a robotics class back in the seventh grade, I wanted absolutely nothing else to do with hotels or hospitality.
I went into my bathroom and started the water to shower. As soon as I got in, thoughts of Zamora burned my brain, and my lower part stiffened. I was still a virgin, but my hand and I were in a relationship back then, so I imagined what it would be like to kiss her glossed pink lips, and I erupted quicker than I had ever had before. My heart raced, and I wondered how in the world just that one brief thought of her made me explode that fast. I cleaned up, dried my skin , and put on a pair of sweats. I powered on my game system for a little while to distract my thoughts of Zamora.
Once I was in bed, I fought the urge to touch myself again, and I’d hang around the lobby from sunup to sundown to wait for her call.