Prologue #6
The smoothness of the drive led my mind to other places. I considered the gift for myself.
Maybe for Christmas, I thought.
Or tomorrow, I countered instantly.
Every day I walked on Earth was a special day for me. I didn’t need to wait until the calendar told me it was.
Nas pumped through the speakers. Though I didn’t listen to the tracks he laid in solitude, I was no stranger to his words, knowledge, or his voice. He was on rotation quite often in my family’s home.
A dagger went through my chest. I’d been secretly yearning the moments spent around the dinner table with smiles touching my edges as I experienced unfiltered joy just being in the company of those I loved. When we were all living, breathing, and free were the best years of my life.
I turned one corner after the other, making my way back to the main street.
Lamaz. Once on the stretch, my feet grew heavier on the gas.
We sped down the street in pursuit of our destination.
The odds of us being headed to the same place was in my favor.
Though I wouldn’t have had trouble getting to The Balgaria a solution sat in my path at the perfect moment.
The handsome stranger, whose name I didn’t even know, stretched his legs and expanded his arms. He consumed an ungodly amount of space, making the passenger seat look and feel like a toddler seat. A booster chair of some kind.
I pulled the inside of my lip between my teeth as my nostrils flared. My curiosity was alarming. So was my quietness. I’d been known to be one who accepted her fate and the forwardness that caused it. But tonight was different. This moment was different.
I became the avoidant presence I despised. I didn’t want to waste words on a man who was running from something. Hiding from someone. Or the world itself.
Black clothes.
Black shades.
Discomfort.
All the signs aligned with my analysis. He was incognito.
Doesn’t want to be seen.
Doesn’t want to be noticed.
Doesn’t want to be bothered.
Doesn’t want to be outed.
I’d been him before. Hiding in the shadows. Lurking. Hoping my discovery didn’t manifest. Praying my presence was obsolete.
I inhaled deeply, pulling my thoughts from the abyss they were headed down. There was an eventful night ahead of me. I couldn’t bear that load right now. It was too heavy.
I made a left into the well-lit lot. The wheels of the car bounced on the rocky roundabout. The red bricks that paved the space for vehicles were large and beautiful. They were held together by cement, with the names of the hotel investors etched on their surface.
The Balgaria sign sat atop the building, shining brightly with the backlighting as its source of energy. Fine bumps lined my skin. It didn’t matter how many times I visited the establishment; it always felt like the first.
“Good evening, ma’am.”
The door swung open. An attendant met me on the driver’s side. Another met the handsome stranger on the passenger side. I lifted my butt from the seat, but electricity stopped me from exiting the car.
“Good evening, mister.”
The wave of shock pulled me back onto the buttery soft leather. I searched for the source. I didn’t have to search very long. A hand rested on my arm.
His hand rested on my arm.
“Thank you.”
I remained silent, lowering my gaze to his hand. He did the same. I waited for him to release me. The moment didn’t surface.
“Maybe we should keep in touch,” he said, clearing his throat.
“I hate donuts and I’m not much of a coffee drinker. It gives me diarrhea.”
I wasn’t waiting for him to unhand me any longer. My exit was swift as my words resonated with him. By the time I reached the doors of The Balgaria, his voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck and the ones beneath my lasered pores.
“I’m not a cop.”
Yeah, that’s what they all say.
I clenched my walls together, wishing the handsome stranger didn’t smell so much like pork. It would’ve been an honor to ditch my workload for a little fun.
“Ugh.”
My family had been down that path already. I wouldn’t take them down memory lane. Those moments were too unpleasant, too painful, and too real. Our perfect world was snatched from beneath us.
We were handed an alternate one instead. And, for the first three years, I hated it just like I hated almost everything else. But, slowly, I was coming around.
One day at a time. I reminded myself.
“Evening, welcome to The Balgaria.”
“Welcome to The Balgaria.”
“Welcome… The Balgaria is happy to have you this evening.”
Like a broken record, the staff remixed the same line three times. With my lips sealed and my eyes straight ahead, I located the elevators.
Chatter surrounded me, but I was in no mood for words. Greetings. Goodbyes. Or games. I sharpened my shoulders as I stood in front of the doors. I watched them close as a couple expanded the room around them by pressing their bodies against each other.
The intoxicated man halted the door’s movement with his left hand.
“Getting on? There’s room.”
I shook my head, hating the idea of disrupting my thoughts with words.
“No.”
“You sure? There’s room.”
I’d already declined. No further action was necessary on my behalf. As he waited for my response, he realized it was highly unlikely he’d receive one. The doors closed shortly after. A sigh followed.
People.
I was starting to hate those, too.
Seconds later, I leaned forward and pressed the upward arrow. As I stepped back, I flattened my palms against my thighs.
Eyes trained.
Attention undivided.
A melody began to play in my head as the words seeped from my lips.
Slowly.
Lowly.
“Is it bad that,” I whispered, “I never made love.”
Ping.
The elevator sounded. I stepped inside and pushed the number twelve.
“But I sure know how to fuck. I’ll be your–”
The singing quickly turned to whistling as the words continued. I reached my designated floor in a matter of seconds.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
“Twelve twenty-eight.”
I counted down the numbers as I ambled down the hallway, sure not to pass the room waiting for me. Upon approach, I removed the key card from my handbag and laid it on the keypad. A green light flashed, prompting my entry.
Cool air brushed against my skin. I raised the temperature on the thermostat by four degrees. Satisfied with seventy displayed on the small screen, I scanned the room for my belongings.
A black duffel bag rested on the bed. I sighed with relief. Though I knew it would be here waiting, it was a relief to lay my eyes on it.
Time was of the essence. I unzipped the large compartment and removed the silk bonnet from the bag. It slid onto my head with ease, officiating the start of my transition. The Bluetooth speaker was next to be removed.
I powered it on and connected my cell.
“Do you mean it when you say it. I believe it because you’re my fucking favorite,” Sza sang as I dug deeper into the black duffel.
One by one, I removed the items inside, laying them out neatly on the bed before placing the bag they’d come from on the table behind me.
The suites at The Balgaria were stunning. Numbering of the guest floors began on the fourth floor. Because the first three floors were full of amenities, eateries, spas, salons, and shops, every room had at least a partial view of Clarke’s beauty.
At night, the city’s skyline was undefeated. Tonight was no exception. With the curtains drawn and the lights low, I witnessed Clarke’s glow from fifteen stories high.
I peeled my dress from my body and spread it across the bed, sure not to wrinkle or fold it.
Next to go were my panties. I replaced them with a black leather thong and garter belt.
The matching bra snapped on with ease. Pantyhose slid up my moisturized legs, stopping above my thighs.
They clung to the suspenders of my garter belt.
“Definitely not budging.”
I loosened my hair, letting it all flow down my back. It made getting on the full mask a simpler task. I strapped on my accessories one by one. Time was on my side. It wasn’t often it wasn’t.
I’ll be there when I get there. He’ll be waiting.
It wasn’t something I’d surmised without evidence of its truth. Undoubtedly, I knew the person awaiting my arrival wouldn’t budge until he had me in his line of vision. There were rules, and he followed them well.
I pulled the trench coat over my body, concealing the details of my night. My exit from the room was simultaneously swift and slow. Had one blinked, and they would’ve missed me.
A long blink. I clarified, pressing my back against the cold steel of the elevator.
The letter P was bright and red, illuminating the keyboard. I watched closely until the red faded and the doors opened.
Ping.
I pushed my body off the wall of the cart and left the smell of freshly baked goods behind me. I wasn’t sure what scent The Balgaria used on their elevators and hallways, but each had a different fragrance. Yet, they all smelled delicious.
Caramel.
Brulee.
Vanilla.
Cranberry.
Nutmeg.
I tried summarizing the combination but knew I was missing something. Possibly some things. Nevertheless, I put the essential oils behind me as I met the lettering on the double doors before me.
Presidential Suite.
I lifted my fingers and rammed them into the hardwood.
Knock.
Pause.
Knock.
Pause.
Knock. Knock.
I twisted the knob and entered the suite as the combination of knocks resonated with the hotel guest. Nothing was improvised. Everything had been discussed, strategized, and confirmed.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
My heels slammed against the marble flooring. I untied the string holding my coat together. I placed the ends between my thumb and index finger, pushing the fabric backward to reveal what was underneath.
Heat soared through my body, letting me know an open trench simply wasn’t enough. I proceeded to peel the fabric from my skin, allowing it to fall onto the floor as I met a pair of enamored orbs.