through the crowd toward the lobby. My balance wasn’t all that it should
have been. I shouldn’t have slammed two cocktails in the space of five minutes.
I should have downed three. Right now I was just drunk enough to be overly emotional but
not drunk enough to forget. Not a good place to be.
When I got to the lobby I spotted
him immediately. He was still on the sofa, his back toward me and his arm still
draped over a blonde woman’s shoulders. I took three steps toward them and then lost my nerve. I skirted behind a corner and flattened
myself against the wall. I wanted
to yell at him, scream at him even, but you can’t scream when you can’t
breathe. I opened my mouth hoping the air would just float on in but my throat
was completely constricted. I
tried again to suck in a steady breath but I only managed a gasp. When I exhaled it came out as a moan.
“Are you all right?”
I glanced up to see a man with
impossibly green eyes looking down at me. He had strawberry blond hair. I don’t like guys with strawberry blond
hair but those eyes….they had to be colored contacts, right?
“Are you all right?” he asked
again.
I realized then that I was
trembling. “No,” I whispered. And then a little louder, “No!”
He tilted his head slightly to
one side. “Can I help?”
Help me, yes, yes please help me! But how could anyone help me with
this?I
peeked around the corner. Anatoly
still had his back to me and I watched as he stood up and reached down to pull
her to her feet. He didn’t let go of her hand once they were standing. Instead
he draped a small duffle bag that I hadn’t noticed before over his shoulder and
started leading her toward the elevator. I recognized the duffle bag. Anatoly
always used it for short trips, so perhaps he had just checked in and was going
to his room for the first time…with her. I ducked back behind the wall and
grabbed Mr. Green-eyes’ arm. “Yes,
yes you can help me. Do you see that
tall guy in the black t-shirt and dark jeans talking to that bleach-blonde
bimbo in the bright red, low-back top?”
The man looked at me quizzically before looking to see if he
could spot the couple in question. “Yes,” he said slowly, dragging the word out
so the s turned into a hiss.
“That’s my boyfriend and he’s
about to go upstairs. I need to
know if he takes that…that woman into his room with him. Or her room…maybe it’s her room.
Anyway, I need you to get on the elevator with them, get off on the same floor
as him, give me their room number and tell me if they went in together.”
“I think I may be changing my mind about wanting to help
you.”
“No, you can’t change your mind!
This is life or death!”
“Someone’s going to die if I
don’t spy on your boyfriend for you?”
“Umm, maybe? I mean yes. Sure, someone will die.” Like Anatoly
right after I bludgeon him with a copy of He’s Just Not That Into You.
“I still think I should stay out
of it.”
Again, I glanced around the
corner. The elevator hadn’t
arrived yet but it would in a moment. “I’ll pay you,” I said quickly. “I have…” I dug around in my purse and pulled out my wallet, “$185 on
me. You can have all of it. All I need is a room number.”
“I’ll do it for $250.”
“But I don’t have $250!”
“I take checks.”
“What? What! You’re shaking me down ?”
“Not at all. I’d be happy to walk
away from this whole thing but if you want me to spy on my fellow man I’m going
to require fair payment.”
“You’re unbelievable!”
The elevator arrived but now
there were too many people waiting for it. Anatoly stepped aside and allowed a woman in a wheelchair to
take what would have been his spot.
“Fine!” I hissed. I pulled my checkbook out of my purse
and scrawled two- hundred and fifty dollars across it in blue pen. “What’s your name?”
“Alex Kinsky.”
“Alex
Learning to Kill: Stories