Othello Station by Rachael Wade Read Free Book Online

vacancies are going to be limited.”
    “I understand. That’s fine. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
    “Okay, sounds good. I’ve extended you for two more nights, as requested. The original rate you booked will remain the same for the additional two nights. Anything else I can do for you?” Her tone is so formal, so chipper, so…impersonal.
    “No, that’s all for now.”
    “Okay, great. If you need anything else during your stay, feel free to give us a call.”
    “Oh! Wait. There is one other thing.” I reach over the laptop to snatch up the hotel menu. “Can I have some room service?”
    “Sure, what can we bring you?”
    “The breakfast sandwich with mixed fruit.”
    “Not a problem. I’ll put the order in. It’ll be about twenty minutes.”
    “Sounds good.” We hang up and I get to work, throwing all of my focus on my project. I’m working on an album cover for a new indie band, and I’m not happy with the design just yet. It’s close to what I want, but it needs some tweaking. I play around with the font and color schemes until there’s a knock at the door. I toss back some Vitamin D and take a swig of water, then stand and hurry to answer the door.
    “Here you go,” Mira says, holding out a covered dish. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.”
    I stare back at her, then at the dish. “You’re delivering room service today, huh?”
    “Yeah, they moved me to kitchen duty today. We already have two people working the desk.”
    “Alright then,” I take the dish and open the door wider. “Let me get you a tip.” I turn for the desk and fumble through my wallet.
    “That’s really not necessary.”
    “You really need to start accepting tips.”
    “I’m not used to accepting them.”
    “Well, better get used to it, because they’re going to help pay your bills. And there are a lot of assholes out there who don’t tip.” She stares at the twenty dollar bill in my hand. “Come on, take it.”
    “Thank you.” She hesitates for a moment but accepts the money, quickly turning away to walk down the hall.
    “Mira.”
    She stops. “Yes?”
    “Can I see you again?” I don’t know where that comes from. It’s like word vomit. Out it goes, without my brain’s permission.
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    “I think it’s a very good idea.” I take a step out into the hall, watching her closely. She looks beautiful, as usual, with soft hair I want to wrap my fingers around and deep, dark eyes that beg to be admired.
    “Grant…”
    “Will you just tell me what the problem is? What have I done?” I hold up a hand. “Wait. I think I know what I’ve done.”
    “Do you?”
    “I came on too strong. I freaked you out. I’m sorry.” I’m apologizing, now? What the fuck is wrong with me?
    “You think you scared me off?”
    “Obviously.”
    “That’s not…no.”
    “Then tell me when I can see you again.”
    “It’s pretty clear you’re looking for a replacement. For one of your…for something. I don’t know. I only know I’m really not looking to be a replacement. Or a rebound. Or whatever the hell. I just can’t do this, okay?”
    “Do what? All I’m asking is to spend some more time with you.”
    “That’s not all you’re asking for, and you know it.” Her chin tilts down and her eyes hold mine. It’s a point-blank accusation, and it’s right on.
    I look away.
    “You’re probably a great guy. I’m obviously attracted to you, but I can’t put myself in the line of fire. I’m done being a plaything. And that’s exactly what you want—a toy. You should look for it somewhere else.” And just like that, she turns on her heel and walks off, disappearing down the hall.
    Fuck.
    I shut the door and set my breakfast down on the desk. I start to pace the room. Eventually I station myself in front of the window and watch the rain fall. It’s not a heavy rain, just a light mist. A typical Pacific Northwestern kind of rain, the kind