[Completed] Bea, a young artist on the wrong side of 25, has to follow the letter. Her dead mother's last wishes. It would be horrible not to. Her best friend Nicole is the keeper of the letter. With a firm hand and a sassy attitude, Nicole ensures...
Bea wiped the foggy mirror. A tired face stared back. Water dripped from dark curls.
Bea heard a noise from the other room.
Wonder if he found anything good to watch? What am I doing with this man in my room? This wasn't the plan at all...
Bea shook her head, toweling her hair the best she could, then got dressed.
As she opened the door, she saw Peter staring, eyes wide, at her phone. An all too familiar voice was yelling at him.
Oh dear...
Bea rushed over and grabbed the phone. Peter mouthed "I'm sorry".
"Hey Nicole. Chill out for a moment. I think you scared poor Peter."
"Bea! It's you. You're alive! Who's Peter?...why is he in your room?...are you having a mid-20's life crisis?"
"Take a breath. I'm fine, no crisis. Peter is 'coffee guy/plane guy'. He and I happen to also be neighbors at the same hotel. Small world. He's here because I...kinda, sorta...fell out of a tree. And he helped me back incase I had a concussion." Bea looked at Peter, face warm.
"You fell out of a tree!?!"
"I'm fine honest. How's dad doing? He still hasn't called or messaged me. I'm beginning to worry." Bea turned away from Peter, and leaned against the table.
"Umm, I really think you two should be talking about this...but I'm worried he's too scared to call you."
"Nicole, you are freaking me out. What is going on? Is he okay?"
"He's fine. It's just, I went over, like I said I would, and he was packing boxes. Like tons of boxes. In every room but yours. I asked him what was going on. He said he'd been meaning to tell you. But it looks like your dad was having trouble keeping up the payments for the house and the medical bills. He's losing the house. I'm so sorry Bea."
Bea dropped into a chair. She glanced over at Peter, with his worried blue eyes.
"Okay...um, I need to go. Can you just tell him to call me? And I guess, help him if you can. You know where I got my lack of organization skills. Thanks Nicole."
"Of course. Call me later. Rest that head. And say sorry to the hottie for all the threats."
Bea stared at her hand holding her phone. All of the sudden, her stomach rumbled loudly.
Really? Right now's the best time for embarrassing bodily noises?
"Don't know about you, but I could go for something to eat. How about we try out the hotel's restaurant?" Peter asked.
"Okay, yeah...sounds good."
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Bea stared at her menu, an untouched glass of wine in her hand.
"Anything look good?"
"Bea?"
"Alright, luv?"
"Beatrice?"
Bea startled, and looked up. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"
Peter furrowed his brows. Then he smiled a little. "I was curious if you had decided on your order."
Bea shook her head. "Not really, maybe the Börek? Or the Gözleme sounds safe enough. Honestly, I haven't eaten that many exotic foods before. Kinda nervous by the prospect."
"If we're being honest, I haven't strayed too far from my comfort foods either. Suppose we will both be trying something new."
As they ordered their meals, Bea drank some of her wine. The small start of warmth, was a comfortable feeling.
>Buzz. Buzz.<
Peter looked at his phone, lips pinched.
"I'm sorry, I've got to take this. I'll be just a moment."
Bea watched as Peter walked off a little ways. From where she sat, it looked like the conversation wasn't going well. Peter stood tensed, jaw tight, as he gave clipped replies.
Bea looked away quickly as Peter shoved his phone back into his pocket. The server arrived with their food just as Peter sat down.
Hmmm.... smells better than expected.
Bea glanced up as Peter ordered more drinks, his already empty.
With a look at Peter's face, the server quickly left and returned with more drinks. He sat one in front of Bea. The other in front of Peter, who downed his fast. Bea looked at the little glass with its amber liquid.
I guess tonight is a good night to drink our feelings.
