(18+) The Guest (Complete)

Ch. 2: Blue lace

We sat in silence for a while, just looking at the water in the pool that gradually stilled. The clucking sound in the drain was monotonous and calming, as well as the dim light underneath the sparkling surface.

"I think you needed this just as much as me," he said without looking at me. And I giggled in a way that sounded more like a tired sigh.

"I guess you're right."

I wanted to tell him that this was my only night off this week, and probably the next, too. But I decided that it would be selfish to fish for sympathy like that, and that it only would make him sadder. It wasn't his fault. Not mine either, for that matter. I guess it was just how life was sometimes. Busy and exhausting.

I heard him sigh and studied him from the corner of my eye, as he reached for the bottle of champagne. But before he began to open it, he stopped and looked at me.

"I think you forgot something," he said, with a smile that I found slightly mischievous. But since I didn't know him, I couldn't tell for sure, so I just looked at him questioningly. Then I looked at the table, and gasped. There was nothing there!

"Oh, my gosh! I forgot the glass!" I exclaimed a jumped up to get him one. I was so sure that I remembered that! But then again, I was so exhausted that I barely knew up from down right now, and I praised higher sources that I didn't have to run all the way back upstairs to get it. Andrea always had some stored on the shelf behind her desk, so I grabbed one and hurried back.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir. That was very unprofessional of me. I didn't mean to..."

But instead of finishing the sentence, I let out a startled squeal when the champagne bottle popped open. And mr. Diaz chuckled and told me to hold the glass while he filled it with frisky bubbles. But when I tried to hand it to him afterwards, he suddenly had another glass in his hand. The one I'd brought earlier. And when I figured out that he'd tricked me, he chuckled even more.

"I can't drink alcohol at work, sir," I tried to explain, but he just held out his glass as a salute before he took his first sip. Then he shrugged lightly.

"I'm not telling anyone."

A part me told me to put the glass down and leave, and remain seated behind my desk until he was done and went back to his room. But another part of me screamed that I should switch the surveillance cameras off and get wasted. I did neither. What I did though, was to sit back in the seat next to him, kicked off my heels and put my aching feet up on the foot rest of the luxurious deck chair. Then I raised my glass and gave him a look, before I caved in and took my first sip.

"So, what are you doing here, mr. Diaz?"

"Escaping."

"From who? A crazy ex? A mad boss?"

He giggled and scratched his neck.

"No. Just from life. It's been rough lately," he said. And his tone of voice told me not to go any further. This was clearly a man with a lot on his shoulders.

"Yeah," I sighed. "It sometimes is."

"How long have you been working here?"

His brown eyes were smiling and searching for mine.

"Ever since I was a baby."

I giggled and looked right at him before explaining.

"My parents run this hotel so I'm kinda born into this."

He nodded and looked away.

"I started early, too."

"Oh? What do you do for a living?" I asked. I knew my mom would have skinned me alive if she knew I was snooping in the personal life to one of our guests like this. And even worse; I was drinking champagne!