Take It With Me
Foreign Affair
Tom held a brown paper bag stuffed with aspirin and perfume and a car magazine and a out of date copy of Good Housekeeping in one hand, and fished for the keys to the hotel room with the other. He had walked quickly back to the hotel from the drugstore, and was eager to get back in and see how Kitty was doing.
"Poor kid. Ain't never had a hangover before, I'd venture," he muttered as his fingers finally found the set of hotel keys. "Ah-ha! Gotcha!"
Before he could open the door, however, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hi there."
He turned around to find a sultry blonde staring at him, her lips red as rubies and eyes green as fresh cut grass. She was smirking, adjusting the neckline of her blue cocktail dress not-so subtly.
"Well, hey," he said, putting the keys back in his pocket and leaning against the door frame cavalierly.
"I saw you last night. You ain't bad," Blondie crooned, playing with his collar. His heart accelerated, and he gave her a lopsided grin.
"Thanks, I appreciate the-"
"Didn't know you were here. In this hotel. Right across the hall from me," she whispered, the bit of Cajun accent in her voice making every word as sweet and slow as fresh pressed cane syrup. She had a feminine voice. No hint of smoke. Just sweet.
Tom liked it.
"Well, what a coincidence," Tom said, catching on to her game.
"A nice coincidence," said Blondie, moving her fingers to his jawline. "You're a handsome thing, you know?"
"So I've been told," Tom chuckled.
"You got someone with you?" she asked, cutting straight to the chase.
"Uh... no?" Tom answered.
"Good. Meet me in my room in fifteen minutes. I'm in room 76. Don't be late," she whispered in his ear, letting her lips graze his neck. Tom gave a nervous laugh.
"Oh, don't worry," he said, itching to drop off the bag and meet Blondie and get whatever was waiting for him. She smiled a wicked smile and sashayed off down the hall, disappearing with a wink and a wiggle into room 76. Like a flash, Tom got the keys out of his pocket and barged into the hotel room. The bed was empty.
"Kitty?" he whispered, looking around. No trace of her. He deposited the bag on the bed and looked into the bathroom. There Kitty was, knocked out on the tile floor.
"Aw, come on, kid!" he whined, walking into the bathroom. Her clothes were wet in the bathtub, and she was out cold, no doubt about it. He considered moving her for a minute, then decided against it.
She wouldn't miss him for an hour or two.
"Poor kid. Ain't never had a hangover before, I'd venture," he muttered as his fingers finally found the set of hotel keys. "Ah-ha! Gotcha!"
Before he could open the door, however, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hi there."
He turned around to find a sultry blonde staring at him, her lips red as rubies and eyes green as fresh cut grass. She was smirking, adjusting the neckline of her blue cocktail dress not-so subtly.
"Well, hey," he said, putting the keys back in his pocket and leaning against the door frame cavalierly.
"I saw you last night. You ain't bad," Blondie crooned, playing with his collar. His heart accelerated, and he gave her a lopsided grin.
"Thanks, I appreciate the-"
"Didn't know you were here. In this hotel. Right across the hall from me," she whispered, the bit of Cajun accent in her voice making every word as sweet and slow as fresh pressed cane syrup. She had a feminine voice. No hint of smoke. Just sweet.
Tom liked it.
"Well, what a coincidence," Tom said, catching on to her game.
"A nice coincidence," said Blondie, moving her fingers to his jawline. "You're a handsome thing, you know?"
"So I've been told," Tom chuckled.
"You got someone with you?" she asked, cutting straight to the chase.
"Uh... no?" Tom answered.
"Good. Meet me in my room in fifteen minutes. I'm in room 76. Don't be late," she whispered in his ear, letting her lips graze his neck. Tom gave a nervous laugh.
"Oh, don't worry," he said, itching to drop off the bag and meet Blondie and get whatever was waiting for him. She smiled a wicked smile and sashayed off down the hall, disappearing with a wink and a wiggle into room 76. Like a flash, Tom got the keys out of his pocket and barged into the hotel room. The bed was empty.
"Kitty?" he whispered, looking around. No trace of her. He deposited the bag on the bed and looked into the bathroom. There Kitty was, knocked out on the tile floor.
"Aw, come on, kid!" he whined, walking into the bathroom. Her clothes were wet in the bathtub, and she was out cold, no doubt about it. He considered moving her for a minute, then decided against it.
She wouldn't miss him for an hour or two.