sigh, which gets me nowhere. “Her name is Autumn Winters.”
“Okay, hang on just a second.” She goes to her computer and types something on the keyboard before coming back rather swiftly. “I’m sorry sir, but she already checked out.”
“She what?”
“She checked out of the hotel already.”
I drop my head in my hands, contemplating what to do now. “Okay, thanks.”
There are a couple of taxis out front and I snag one, texting Rex to let him know I’m on my way back over. I guess it’s too much to hope the elevator’s been fixed this quickly. I’m not in the mood to climb stairs.
My mind races through various scenarios, a dull ache gnawing at my stomach. My knuckles sting from my aggressive encounter with the wall, but shit, I deserve it. I should’ve trusted Autumn enough to tell her, to know she wasn’t like all those other women. But then again, I didn’t even know her that well so how could I trust her? There’s an incessant tapping on my shoulder and a voice telling me that it doesn’t matter. I should’ve told her the truth. I fucked up.
“You fucked up, bro,” Rex states flatly, taking a handful of potato chips, stuffing them in his mouth, the crumbs falling to the floor.
“Thanks for telling me what I already know.”
“Why did you lie to her anyway? Why not tell her the truth?” he pipes back, brushing the remnants off his jeans.
The truth? Now there’s a novel concept. What would I know of the truth? I had the worst teacher in the world when it came to that—my mother. But it’s no excuse. I may be my mother’s son, but I’m damn sure not my mother.
“I don’t know. I guess I wanted her to like me, for me,” I answer honestly, opening the fridge, pulling out the orange juice container.
“That sounds a bit like high school melodrama,” he jokes, as I pour a glass of juice. “ How old are you?”
“Funny.”
He crinkles up the empty chip bag, hurling it into the garbage. “So, just find her and tell her the truth. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“Yeah. I have to look her up. I didn’t even get her cell phone number so I don’t know how to contact her. I’m sure I can do an internet search. Actually, I think I’ll start that now.”
“Geez, fucking anxious much?” he taunts, “I hope you have broadband because I don’t have wireless here.”
“Yeah, I’ve got broadband.” I walk back out to the living room, retrieve my laptop, and then plant myself on the sofa, hiking my legs up on the trunk that serves as a coffee table.
Almost a half-hour later, I haven’t found anything. “This is ridiculous.” I shoot Rex a look as he’s flipping stations with the remote. “I can’t find any listings for Autumn on Google, just links for her books. There are a couple of Autumns on Facebook, but none of them are her. Shit.”
“She’s a writer?” He clicks the remote off to give me his undivided attention.
“Yeah.”
“What does she write?”
“Erotic romance,” I reply, staring down at the screen, searching for addresses in New York.
“Oh shit, she writes porn? You hit the mother-load.” He grins, pitching a dark brow in the air.
“No, it’s nothing like that. Anyway, I can’t find Autumn Winters anywhere,” I complain frustrated, typing a couple more search strings into Google.
“Autumn Winters?”
“Yeah.”
He cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing me. “Bro, that sounds like a stage name.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh man, I thought you were smarter than that. Going to Harvard and shit. You’ve been hoodwinked.”
“Hoodwinked? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word before. What the hell do you mean?”
He shakes his head, chuckling. “Bro. That doesn’t sound like someone’s real name.”
“What?” It takes me a second to process his words when the realization hits me, a thousand bricks being dropped on my head simultaneously. “Fuck.” I fling myself off the couch, rubbing the back
“Okay, hang on just a second.” She goes to her computer and types something on the keyboard before coming back rather swiftly. “I’m sorry sir, but she already checked out.”
“She what?”
“She checked out of the hotel already.”
I drop my head in my hands, contemplating what to do now. “Okay, thanks.”
There are a couple of taxis out front and I snag one, texting Rex to let him know I’m on my way back over. I guess it’s too much to hope the elevator’s been fixed this quickly. I’m not in the mood to climb stairs.
My mind races through various scenarios, a dull ache gnawing at my stomach. My knuckles sting from my aggressive encounter with the wall, but shit, I deserve it. I should’ve trusted Autumn enough to tell her, to know she wasn’t like all those other women. But then again, I didn’t even know her that well so how could I trust her? There’s an incessant tapping on my shoulder and a voice telling me that it doesn’t matter. I should’ve told her the truth. I fucked up.
“You fucked up, bro,” Rex states flatly, taking a handful of potato chips, stuffing them in his mouth, the crumbs falling to the floor.
“Thanks for telling me what I already know.”
“Why did you lie to her anyway? Why not tell her the truth?” he pipes back, brushing the remnants off his jeans.
The truth? Now there’s a novel concept. What would I know of the truth? I had the worst teacher in the world when it came to that—my mother. But it’s no excuse. I may be my mother’s son, but I’m damn sure not my mother.
“I don’t know. I guess I wanted her to like me, for me,” I answer honestly, opening the fridge, pulling out the orange juice container.
“That sounds a bit like high school melodrama,” he jokes, as I pour a glass of juice. “ How old are you?”
“Funny.”
He crinkles up the empty chip bag, hurling it into the garbage. “So, just find her and tell her the truth. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“Yeah. I have to look her up. I didn’t even get her cell phone number so I don’t know how to contact her. I’m sure I can do an internet search. Actually, I think I’ll start that now.”
“Geez, fucking anxious much?” he taunts, “I hope you have broadband because I don’t have wireless here.”
“Yeah, I’ve got broadband.” I walk back out to the living room, retrieve my laptop, and then plant myself on the sofa, hiking my legs up on the trunk that serves as a coffee table.
Almost a half-hour later, I haven’t found anything. “This is ridiculous.” I shoot Rex a look as he’s flipping stations with the remote. “I can’t find any listings for Autumn on Google, just links for her books. There are a couple of Autumns on Facebook, but none of them are her. Shit.”
“She’s a writer?” He clicks the remote off to give me his undivided attention.
“Yeah.”
“What does she write?”
“Erotic romance,” I reply, staring down at the screen, searching for addresses in New York.
“Oh shit, she writes porn? You hit the mother-load.” He grins, pitching a dark brow in the air.
“No, it’s nothing like that. Anyway, I can’t find Autumn Winters anywhere,” I complain frustrated, typing a couple more search strings into Google.
“Autumn Winters?”
“Yeah.”
He cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing me. “Bro, that sounds like a stage name.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh man, I thought you were smarter than that. Going to Harvard and shit. You’ve been hoodwinked.”
“Hoodwinked? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word before. What the hell do you mean?”
He shakes his head, chuckling. “Bro. That doesn’t sound like someone’s real name.”
“What?” It takes me a second to process his words when the realization hits me, a thousand bricks being dropped on my head simultaneously. “Fuck.” I fling myself off the couch, rubbing the back
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