Room 702 (48 page)

 
What does it mean?

 
Did Brendan really write it?
 
Ken recognizes the handwriting, but still has a difficult time coming to grips with the message.
 
Reaching over to the worn piece of paper on the bed stand, he reads the letter again:

Ken,

i don’t have words.
 
there are words i have but they are all stuck in my brain, where they’ve been for at least ten years.
 
so it’s too late, too late to tell you to speak to say to anything.
 
i was a dick, wasn’t i?
 
you were nice to me and helped and what did i do? you took a chance on a poor nobody and what did i give you? it’s not much but i want you to be happy. i think a long time ago i was lucky you were in my life – do you remember how we first met? you saw me, you saw my potential, you saw some idiot kid from ohio and you took a chance on him.

 
i hope wherever you are you are happy.
 

 
i can’t say i’m sorry enough

The postmark on the envelope didn’t reveal much except the city (Beverly Hills) and date (August 15
th
).
 
After receiving it, Ken had called the hotel and demanded to know who was playing a prank on him, but no one knew anything about the letter.
 
Not knowing who found the letter didn’t discourage Ken, but he wanted someone to tell him how the letter came to be found.

 
Lost as ever, Ken looks around the room again – hoping an answer will present itself.

Ken isn’t alarmed Brendan’s spirit might be lurking around.
 
In fact, deep down, perhaps he’s kind of hoping for some sort of supernatural interaction.
 
This is Hollywood, after all, and stranger things have happened.

“Hello?” he asks to the empty space, not expecting a response, “Brendan?”

Unexpectedly, the radio comes to life next to Ken.
 
As the notes filter into Ken’s head, he recognizes the song which plays is the main track of the soundtrack to the film from Brendan’s big break.
 
Ken hasn’t listened to the tune in years.
 
For a very long time, he didn’t want anything which reminded him of the rising star.
 
To Ken, Brendan represented perhaps the most valuable lesson the agent had ever learned in his career.
 
No one was to be trusted.

The lyrics wash over him.

Was this the universe’s way of reminding him he could end up dying alone in a hotel room?
 
Did he need to do a better job making amends with people he faulted in his career?
 
Was it finally time to let go of the grudge he had been holding against Brendan?
 

Ken switches off the radio and sits in silence.
 
Reaching out for the letter, he looks at it one more time, then rips the paper up and throws the remains in the small trashcan next to the desk.

 
In the morning, he’s going to review his clients and reach out to those he knows are in need of help.
 
He’s not going to let another tragedy occur on his watch.

 
“Goodbye, Brendan – rest in peace.
 
May you find what you were looking for.”

 
Feeling at peace, Ken closes his eyes and goes to sleep.

“And you’re sure she’s going to be okay?” Shaun asks.

“Positive.
 
You know your parents are perfectly capable of looking after our beautiful daughter by themselves.” Chelsea holds back a smile, as she puts some things away in the closet.
 
Shaun is much more overprotective than she thought he would be.
 
This is their first night away from baby Helen.
 
Although they’ve not gone very far and can be home in a matter of twenty minutes, Chelsea thinks this night will be good for them.
 
With her in-laws in town until the end of the month, this is also a chance to get some space and have alone time with her husband – something that has been difficult to come by over the past few months.
 
With the gestational diabetes over and her body slowly, but surely returning to its pre-baby condition, Chelsea is happy and thankful for the things in her life.
 
Her health, the health of her family, that they are able to get away for a night together – these are all things she appreciates.
 

“What do you want to do first?” Shaun asks suggestively.

Chelsea looks around the room – most likely the exact room where their daughter was conceived, and says, “A long hot bath sounds like heaven.”

If he is disappointed, Shaun does not show it and asks, “Do you want me to run it for you?”

“No, thanks for offering.”

“Do you want me to join you?”

Chelsea hesitates.
 
While she’s remained as much of a ‘yummy mummy’ as was possible during pregnancy, genetics and other complications had led to a weight gain she wasn’t entirely ready for.
 
Shaun still finds her attractive, but she doesn’t particularly find herself all that amazing to look at.
 
He has been trying, suggesting and cajoling to be permitted to have intercourse again and she’s been given the all clear from the doctor to resume having sex with her husband.
 
There have been a few attempts, but either the baby has interrupted them or she hasn’t been able to get in the mood.
 
After a surprisingly intimate second trimester, Shaun has been patient.
 
Tonight, she is going to relax, express some milk, have a drink and make love to her husband if it kills her.

 
She finally answers, “No offense, honey, but time by myself is hard to come by.
 
I’d like to just have a nice soak.”

“No problem.
 
In fact, why don’t I just call my parents and let them know we’re here?”

She smiles and nods, knowing he wants to check in on Helen.
 
Closing the door behind her, she starts the water and disrobes, looking at her changed body in the mirror.
 
There are stretch marks, parts have sagged and varicose veins are now a fact of life.
 
Still, Chelsea knows she has a lot going for her.
 
Forcing herself to recognize her best features, she looks in the mirror and smiles.
 
Shaun had always told her that the smile she gave him from across the crowded bar had felt like a beam of sunshine.
 
She runs a hand through her hair, blonde and lustrous, she hasn’t needed to resort to changing its natural color.
 
If pregnancy has helped anything, her A cups have moved up to Cs and while gravity is doing its best, given the right bra, they hold up just fine.
 
Furthermore, whatever physical shortcomings she might have now cannot take the place of the beautiful child she brought into this world.
 
She is proud of herself and of them.
 
She wants to prove to her husband that his patience has been worth it — that she appreciates everything he’s done for her.

 
Turning off the water, Chelsea looks at her reflection in the mirror and says, “Here goes nothing.”

 
She opens the door and walks out to her very surprised husband.
 
Seeing her naked form, he rushes to finish the call and says, “Okay, well we’ll call you tomorrow.
 
Text us if anything happens tonight, love you, bye.”
 
Lifting an eyebrow, Chelsea comments, “That was rude.”
 
“I don’t care,” he answers, quickly pulling his shirt off.
 
Moving closer to her, he asks, “Are you sure?”
 
She smiles up at him and answers, “No, but I don’t care.”

 
“You know you’re beautiful, right?”

 
“Even if I’m no longer the girl you fell in love with?” Chelsea deflects the compliment.

 
“You are the woman I continue to love every day and the mother of our daughter, care to tell me what’s missing?”

 
“Nothing at all, darling.”

Hyper aware someone from their company might catch them, Michelle and Keith sneak into room 702 and lock the door tightly behind them.
 
Once inside the protection of the suite, not bothering to turn on lights or take a single step further, they are helpless to keep their hands off each other.
 
Keith backs Michelle against the door and grinds his hips against her, making sure she feels her affect on him.
 
His lips crush hers, smearing her lip-gloss.
 
She weaves a hand behind his head, thrusting her fingers through his hair.
 

 
Genevieve, the relatively new HR director and self-appointed community relations officer, was unaware the office holiday party was usually a sedate affair at a restaurant on Ventura, usually on some unglamorous Tuesday when employees would much rather be out shopping for holiday gifts.
 
Tonight marked a drastic change from previous years.
 
Genevieve had decided no ‘Secret Santa’ exchanges.
 
No tacky decorations.
 
This was an adult party with an open bar.
 
Partners, boyfriends, spouses entirely optional.
 
Children were no invited.
 
Having scouted various locations, Genevieve settled on deal with the Winchester to rent out the Colt for a private party and was pleased when they suggested an up and coming DJ, a young woman who spun under than name DJ Golightly.
 
Ginger had even negotiated rates for those who wanted to stay over.
 
Sure, it was a Sunday night and they’d all have hell to pay tomorrow, but at Jones International, an advertising firm, they play as hard as they work.
 

Having joined the company as a junior advertising executive in February, Michelle McKenzie had been instantly drawn to the West Coast regional director, Keith Drake.
 
Although she knew getting involved with someone in her office,
especially
in her first year out of college was be an exceptionally bad idea, she couldn’t help herself.
 
She didn’t care that he was known throughout the company as ‘the machine’ and had a reputation for not having the time to involve himself in anything so trivial as a relationship.
 
In all honesty, his dedication was how he has been able to rise to meteoric success in such a short time and at twenty-nine, he was the youngest regional director in the entire company.
 
What started as instant infatuation grew to respect.
 
Michelle saw the sacrifices Keith made, but ultimately what he gave up made him even more attractive.
 
Not only was she infatuated; she was also intimidated.

Telling no one, Michelle managed to keep her crush to herself, but would be lying if she didn’t admit she had hoped things would escalate between them this evening.
 
Barely breaking contact between their lips, Keith roughly unzips and divests her of the short party dress which has been teasing him all evening.
 
Barely longer than a shirt, he somehow knows she had worn the dress entirely for his benefit.
 
Underneath is a matching set of black sheer lingerie and he hopes she doesn’t hear the earnest sound he releases in response to her nearly unclothed body.

 
Feeling the same urgency, Michelle grabs his belt and unbuckles it sharply, then unbuttons his trousers and roughly pulls them and his boxer shorts down, letting gravity take them to the ground.

As he runs a thumb over one of her nipples and she groans in response, Keith remembers the day Michelle started in the office.
 
He remembers the navy pinstripe pantsuit she wore, no doubt to be taken seriously, but unable to hide her natural assets.
 
As the months passed, he began to be attracted to her – less for her natural beauty and more for her sense of humor and highly topical contributions to his advertising campaigns.
 
She had an innate sense of successful marketing and the office was lucky to have her.
 
Her drive reminded him of his first days with the company.
 
She was the first in the morning and routinely worked late.
 
Breathing heavily, he lowers his mouth to her right breast and begins lavishing attention on it through the delicate mesh fabric.
 
His left hand trails down below her waist and with expert understanding of the female body, he is rewarded with a distinctive and sensual, “Oh!”

 
After a minute of squirming against his hand, trying to push her way towards his engorged cock which he is keeping irritatingly out of the way, gasping for breath, Michelle finds herself reaching release far faster than she’s ever done with a previous lover or her own fingers.
 
Unable to stop herself, she says, “Keith, please.”

 
He can’t mistake the need in her voice and comes up to meet her mouth, his hand never leaves her wet heat.
 
He continues until she sighs deeply, coming to rest fully against his body.
 
She feels right there, tucked up against him.
 
Although certain parts of his body would say otherwise, he says, “We can stop here.”

 
She backs up and look at him and says, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

 
“You’re sure?”

“As long as you have protection I am.”

 
“I do.” He moves to a kneeling position slowly, trailing kisses down her smooth legs.
 
Hoping to hide his lack of suaveness, he quickly retrieves the condom and unlaces his shoes, quickly stepping out of both them and his socks.