Chapter 7 #3
"I guess one more drink wouldn't hurt. One alcohol-free drink."
“You’re reading my mind. Care to try the patio? It’s so nice out.” Jay motioned to an outdoor space off the bar.
“Sounds great.” Claire nodded in agreement.
Jay went to order coffee while Claire headed out to claim a table.
She had her pick, finding only one other couple in the outdoor space.
Claire watched them for a moment, noting the closeness of their bodies.
Completely oblivious to Claire’s presence, their kisses fell in between whispers and giggles.
A tiny pebble of jealousy dropped into her gut, creating ripples of envy.
You’ll have your chance when you're a little less tipsy and thinking clearly. I hope this Jay guy doesn’t get the wrong idea though. Talking is one thing. Even a little harmless flirting is okay. But a late-night hookup? Ain’t gonna happen. I don’t care how badly Molly wants it to.
Jay joined her, announcing that coffees were on the way.
They sat without talking for a minute, looking out at the ocean.
The piano had served them well, acting as both a buffer and a safety net for conversation.
With nothing but the light of a small candle in amber glass flickering between them, Claire squirmed in her seat while her mind spun like a Rolodex, hoping to land on an interesting topic.
"Is this your first time here in Jamaica?" she asked.
Boring. God, you’re pathetic.
“It is, and I have to say it’s lived up to the hype. I’ll definitely be back when I’m able to fully enjoy it."
“It's a breathtaking hotel, isn’t it? I haven’t been here in years but it’s still just as beautiful as I remember.”
Jay nodded. Another stretch of silence grew between them and Claire continued to fidget.
What happened to the friendly, flirty banter? Where's that confidence that flowed through my veins just minutes ago? This is so awkward! Now that the music’s stopped and we’ve moved off alcohol, it’s like we have nothing to say. Why didn't I just go back to my suite?
"The pianist here is super talented," he commented. “I think we kept him busy for way longer than his normal shift.”
Claire grinned. "I think we did, but I’m pretty sure he loved the attention. It was a nice change of pace from the main bar, especially once it started clearing out.”
"I bet he could give Nancy Chen a run for her money."
"Are you kidding?" Claire shot him a look. "He's good, but he's no Nancy Chen."
"My apologies. I didn't know you were a devout follower."
"Well, there are pianists and then there's Nancy Chen. I'd love to get tickets to her next concert, but she’s been sold out for months.”
"I hear she sells out pretty fast."
"I really thought that she might cancel her tour after what happened. You heard about that, right?"
Jay nodded again, his face now more serious. "I did, I did. Evidently, she's the consummate professional. I guess the show indeed goes on."
A server balancing a small tray joined them. He poured Claire’s coffee first before filling Jay's cup.
"There's a phone call for you, sir,” he said to Jay. “The bartender said to tell you it’s your better half.”
Jay rolled his eyes and backed away from the table. "I'm so sorry. Would you excuse me for one brief moment?"
She'd no time to answer before he hobbled away. With his back to her, she watched him through the mirror behind the bar. She gathered from his expression that he was none too pleased. Well, that makes two of us. Better half? This guy’s married?
Claire stood, slung her crossbody over her shoulder, and left the patio area via a side gate.
She took an alternate route back to the lobby, walking with quick steps.
Like everything else in her world, she couldn't afford to look back.
To her relief, she found an elevator ready and waiting and in less than two minutes, she keyed into her suite on the third floor.
Her insides burned with a combination of anger and embarrassment.
She flipped the lock on the door with force, ripping the nail on her index finger down to the quick in the process.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stuck the stinging digit against her tongue for relief.
Turning, she surveyed the room as she kicked off her sandals.
She stacked her dinner dishes and empty beer bottles on the room service tray and slid it outside her door, double-checking for signs of the married man from the bar.
Would you relax? He has no idea what room you’re in.
Claire didn't even bother to re-brush her teeth.
Her dress and strapless bra were dropped on the floor without a care.
She crawled back into bed, her mind screaming.
God, I am such an idiot! She reached to turn off the lamp and froze.
Calvin's ring. She'd completely forgotten about it.
She spun it around her finger with one disturbing thought in her head.
How ironic. How perfectly effing ironic!
The hotel phone rang unexpectedly and she sat up, her heart pounding. Surely not! He doesn't even know my last name. She rested her hand on the receiver, afraid to pick it up. If that bartender did the unthinkable and gave him my room number, I swear to God his ass is grass!
She brought the phone to her ear, listening for a moment before addressing the party on the other end.
"Yes?" she answered coolly.
"Claire?"
"Dad?"
"Did I wake you?" he asked.
"No, but you scared me half to death."
"I'm sorry. Is everything okay? I got your text and tried to call you back, but your phone rolls straight to voicemail. I know you're a grown-ass woman, as you love to tell me, but I still worry, especially when you’re traveling alone."
"Sorry. My phone’s on silent. I’m already back in my room, safe and sound.”
"And I will sleep like a baby with that knowledge," Harry said. “What did you do with your evening?”
"Well, let's see…” Claire sighed. “I popped down to the bar for a nightcap, sat by the piano for a while, got drunk on something called Jefton Juice, and flirted shamelessly with this incredibly handsome yet disappointingly married, would-be womanizer with a limp."
"That's my girl."