What If

3. A Flip of the Eggs

"Wow, this is really fancy."

I chuckled as I popped my trunk and pulled out my duffle bag. Henri, the hotel manager, came out in a hurry. "Mr. Williams, I'm so sorry! Had we known you were coming, we would have had someone waiting for you."

I waved his worried tone away. "Henri, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Sean? And there's no need to trouble your workers."

"Yes, sir. Your suite is ready. As always. Can I take your bags?"

"No, thanks. I got it. Thank you, Henri." I shook his hand, placing a couple hundred dollar bills in his palm at the same time.

Henri lowered his head out of respect. "Enjoy your stay, sir."

I ushered Lydia through the busy lobby, heading straight for the elevators. She was clearly captivated by the lights, sounds, and different types of people. I knew she said she never gambled, but I was surprised that she was so intrigued.

An elevator opened as we approached. We waited patiently for the dozen people riding it to exit. We quickly got on and I pushed the close button. With my suite at the top, I didn't want to deal with stopping at every floor while people loaded and unloaded.

I pulled out my wallet and scanned my penthouse key card before I pushed the matching PH button. 

When the elevator started to move, Lydia shot me a look from the corner of her eye. "You're, like, a big deal here, huh?"

"My money is a big deal here. I've spent a lot of it here over the past decade. The staff that assists me are good people, though."

"You don't like people waiting on you, do you?" she asked in a low voice.

I shifted my weight my feet, suddenly uncomfortable by her question. She was right. I hated people treating me differently because I was rich. I tried to avoid it as much as possible. The elevator doors finally opened to my suite, and I was thankful for the opportunity to change the subject. "Here we are."

She stepped into the suite and glanced around the giant space. There were floor to ceiling windows, a balcony, and a giant kitchen they always kept stocked for me. The living room had plush sofas with a sixty-inch flat screen TV.

I sat my bag down on the counter and motioned for her to follow me. "Let me show you around." I led her to the two double doors first. "This is my room. If I'm in here and you need anything, feel free to knock."

I showed her the balcony, how to operate the TV, and where the house phone was if she needed to call downstairs. I led her to the guest room that was farthest away from mine. I knew this was probably weird for her—it was for me two. We were strangers and I wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

"This is your room. There's a TV in here and you have your own bathroom. The bathroom should be stocked with anything you need."

She walked inside, arms wrapped around herself, and took a long look around the room. I hesitated before I said, "I noticed you didn't bring a bag with you." I pulled out my wallet and handed her one of my white business cards. "Take this. Whenever you're up to it, you can go downstairs to one of the shops and get what you need. Don't worry about the money. If you show them my card, they'll charge it to my room. Whenever I play here, they always comp whatever I spend. So, it's on the hotel."

Even though she was obviously uncomfortable, she took the card form me and slid in her back pocket. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Before I forget," I reached into my pocket, "here's your key for the suite."

She took the key from me, also sliding it in her back pocket. 

I cleared my throat and took a step back out of her room. "We'll, I'm starving. I'm going to go out there and cook some food. You're welcome to join me if you're hungry."

I left her alone in the room. I really hoped she wasn't too overwhelmed. My stomach growled and I went to the fridge. I pulled out eggs, cheese, and some veggies to make an omelet.

I was getting the omelet pan from the cabinet next to the stove when I heard the bedroom door shut. I straightened my body and saw Lydia coming towards the kitchen. She took a seat at the breakfast bar on the other side of the island. I say the pan on the stove and grabbed the cutting board to start cutting up some vegetables.

"How do you like your omelet?" I asked as I finish cutting the tomato, then started on the onion.

She seemed surprised by my question. Like no one's ever offered to cook for her before. I waited patiently and continued chopping the onion until she answered.

"Cheese and tomato, please."

"Coming right up."

As I started sautéing the tomatoes for her and mixing the eggs in a bowl, she said, "I'm surprised you didn't order room service."

I could tell by her tone of voice that it wasn't meant to be a sarcastic comment. She was genuinely surprised that I didn't order room service. "I like to cook. Keeps me busy." The truth was, if I could help it, I liked to take care of things like this myself. I didn't want to have to rely on other people.

There was a comfortable silence in the kitchen as I made finished making her omelet. After a few more minutes—and a couple flips of the eggs—hers was ready. I put it and a fork on a plate and slid it in front of her.

"Bon Appetit," I said with a smile.

She returned my smile with a small one of her own before she took a bite of the omelet. "Thank you. It tastes wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it." I started cooking my omelet, and by the time it was finished, I turned around to see that she was already done with hers. "Would you like another one?"

Even though I could tell she wanted more, she shook her head. "No, thank you."

"How about this...I'm starving. I was going to make two for myself, but I know I won't eat it all. My eyes always tend to be bigger than my stomach. Want to share the second one?"

She was quiet for a minute and she kept her eyes on me. "Sure, okay."

We ate the omelets quickly, both of us starving. Once we were done, I put the dishes in the sink. I exhaled a deep breath and looked at the clock. "Alright. It's eight-thirty in the morning. I'll probably sleep until around two. Then we can start with your first gambling lesson," I said with a smile.

I headed to my room and stopped at the door. I turned to her. "Lydia?"

She turned to face me.

"Make yourself at home."