Chapter 6
I run to the bathroom and lock the door, even though I know I’m alone in here. Then I open my Airbnb reservation to find my host’s phone number, who, according to the app, is named Dom.
I call him four times. He finally answers just as I’m about to give up and send him a message in the app.
“Hello?” His voice sounds crisp, like I woke him up or something, but it’s too late in the day for that.
“Oh, Dom, thank God, you answered.” I need to chill. I sound desperate. “It’s Dom, right? Does everyone call you that or—”
“Who’s asking?” He sounds distracted.
“I’m renting your Airbnb. My name’s Olivia. Olivia Hillcrest.”
“How’d you get this number?”
Okay, now he sounds just plain annoyed.
“Uh, your number was on the Airbnb listing. Where else would I get it?”
“It shouldn’t be. That’s a mistake. Let me get you the number for my property manager. His name is Phil. Hang on.”
“Oh, okay.” I sigh, annoyed that I’m getting the runaround to another person.
After getting Phil’s information, I reluctantly hang up and call the number Dom gave me. After four unanswered attempts, I call Dom back. Twice. He answers on the third attempt.
“Hello?” He sounds even more aggravated this time.
“Hello again!” I force bravado into my voice, trying to charm him into staying on the line with me. “It’s Olivia. Listen, Phil isn’t answering his phone, so I thought I’d chat with you instead.”
“That wasn’t really what I said. You’ll need to wait until Phil gets back to you.”
“But I haven’t even told you what I’m calling for. You do own this place, right?”
“Which place?”
“The left one?”
I hear him snort. “Yeah, that doesn’t really narrow it down.”
“Oh. How many Airbnbs do you own?”
“I’d really appreciate if you’d work with the property manager on this. Like I said, his name is Phil and—”
He sounds rushed, but there’s no way I’m letting this guy off the phone. For all I know, Phil is on a two-week vacation to Shanghai and Dom is my only hope. I start speed-talking with the goal of getting it all out before he hangs up.
“Listen, I have a big request. I need to cancel my reservation, even though I just checked in. I’m here for eight weeks so I know you’re probably dead set on having me stick it out until the end of those eight weeks, but I think if you hear my story, you’ll understand and let me cancel—”
“Excuse me,” he interrupts. “What’s your name again?”
I jump up from the closed toilet seat, pumping my fist into the air triumphantly. He’s not saying no.
“Olivia.” I try to hide my excitement that he sounds ready to listen. If he just hears me out, there’s no way he’ll turn me down.
“So, Olivia, this is really a question for Phil.”
I start pacing the tiny bathroom, not ready to give up. Over a decade in investigative journalism has led me to this moment. It’s like a hostage negotiation. If I can just keep him talking . . .
“But I’m speaking to you , Dom, and I’m already so thankful you decided to answer my call again. How’s your day going, by the way?” I make my voice sweet and inquisitive, like I’m holding out a can of bear bait, luring him in. Like I’d actually want to get to know this random asshole, but whatever it takes to win him over.
“Where are you staying? I need more details than the left one ,” he says. I detect a ray of sarcasm, but at least he’s starting to sound amused instead of annoyed.
I nod my head to no one in particular, breaking into a grin. This is progress. “Your townhouse.”
Silence.
“On a busy road?” I wish I could remember the street name. I should have looked it up before calling.
“In . . .”
“Hawaii.”
“Okay. Wonderful. Listen, I’m not very familiar with my rentals, to be honest. But what’s the problem? If it’s a maintenance issue, we — I mean, Phil — can just fix it.”
“My ex-fiancé, well not quite fiancé, but the guy I tried to marry, he’s staying on the other side of the townhouse.”
He stifles a laugh.
Nice .
“That’s really unfortunate, Olivia. But I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to break a reservation. Especially an eight-week reservation.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t stay next to him. The last time I saw him, I threw cat food at him.”
He’s full-on laughing now. A deep, sexy kind of laugh that sounds vaguely familiar, if not a little muffled. But at least he’s not hanging up.
“I’m so glad you find this amusing, Dom,” I deadpan.
“Why don’t you just kiss and make up with him then? Hawaii is all about that island romance. Second chances and all that.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Listen, I feel for you, I do. But this is a personal inconvenience, not really an issue worth leaving my place empty for two months. Most of the rentals have a thirty-day minimum and I believe the policy states—”
“You know, you don’t even have curtains put up here? You have these big, voyeuristic windows leading out to the beach, in the living room and the bedroom, but not everyone wants to get dressed each morning in front of a big, open window!”
“That’s something else you can let Phil know.”
“But it took me six tries to get to you . I’d rather just deal — I mean talk — with you. You’re going to be making the decision on the reservation cancellation, right?”
“Not really, I just let Phil handle everything.”
“You don’t put curtains up in your properties, and you can’t handle this for me? Phil’s not answering and—”
“I’m very busy.”
“Too busy to deal with a woman in crisis?”
And this is the moment I start crying.