I’m feeling a little lost sitting in River’s car going to get my engagement ring from Ben. Fidgeting in my seat, I keep grabbing for the necklace that isn’t there. He isn’t holding my hand and he hasn’t as much as glanced over at me since we got in the car. I know he must be curious as to why possibly losing a necklace would make me this emotional. I just can’t talk about it right now. I need to get the necklace back first and for the lump in my throat to go away. Only then can I allow the words to flow.
I wish it were that easy to shut my thoughts off. Did I betray Ben by taking his ring off? What kind of betrayal took place by sleeping with River? Was it even a betrayal? How long should one grieve? How long should one wait before engaging with another? Are there even any right answers to these questions?
When we finally arrive, the valet opens my door before River gets out of the car. I wait for him, and he takes my hand, leading us straight to the front desk. I know housekeeping must have already been in the room and apparently so does River since we don’t bother going up there. There is a rather long line at the front desk, but River doesn’t acknowledge it. Stepping right up to the desk, he nods his head at the gentleman who just handed room keys to a couple and waits for them to leave. Moving to where the couple was standing, he clears his throat to get the attention of the clerk who is looking down at a computer screen under the counter. I’m sure the line of people behind us is not pleased by our blatant disregard for waiting-in-line etiquette.
When the man refuses to look up, River drops my hand and leans forward, placing both elbows on the counter, his forearms down, as he clasps his hands into a V to inch a little closer. “Hey man, I have a situation that needs to be taken care of immediately, and I was hoping you could help me out,” he says in his smooth easy voice. The front desk assistant, obviously impervious to River’s charming ways, doesn’t even look up as he says, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to wait in line like everybody else.”
River’s jaw tightens as he grips the counter closest to us, and in a flat, but stern voice he says, “I’m not sure you heard me, but we have a situation that. . .”
The now, narrow-eyed man looks up at River and interrupting him, seethes, “I heard you, and once again I’m going to . . .”
This time River doesn’t let him finish, and he leans in as close as possible and very politely says, “I think it’s time you call for Mr. Hughes.” Then, looking at his nametag and smirking, he adds, “Joe.”
Who’s Mr. Hughes?
The now completely flustered man stutters before regaining his composure. He stands up very straight and manages to nicely say, “Why don’t we see if I can fix your situation before I call Mr. Hughes. You were saying?” Swallowing back my laughter at the suddenly very funny situation, River cocks his head and winks at me. Then he takes my hand, squeezes it, and sets it on the counter in his so our elbows are almost connected.
Before I know it, the red-clad uniformed man is calling housekeeping himself, asking about items that may have been found in the safe in my room. By some grace of God he tells us the necklace had been found and was put in the main hotel safe.
River drops my hand to very politely shake hands with the clerk. Then before thanking him, he removes his wallet from his back pocket and hands the now jubilant Joe a hundred-dollar bill. Nodding his head he says discreetly, “Joe please see to it that the necklace gets delivered to us in the bar.”
Joe, very happily accepting his more than generous tip, responds, “Yes sir, not a problem.”
We head to the same bar where River waited for me last night. It seems like way more time has passed than just one day. I feel so connected to this man, like I’ve known him for a very long time. As we’re seated, River pulls my chair out for me and I nod my head and grin, but before I sit, I stand on my tippy toes and kiss him on his cheek. “Thank you.”