“Yeah,asurprise. Not multiple.”
“Harmon Stone?”
I look around at my name being called and find a well-dressed man walking my way.
“That’s me.”
“Stephen Hughes. I have the keys for your rental and your hotel.” He offers me a key fob and an envelope. “Your luggage will be brought straight to the hotel for you, sir.”
“Thank you very much,” I say as I take the things from him.
“Enjoy your stay.”
We keep walking, entering the building and then following the signs to the garage.
“I feel like I’m on an alien planet,” Cassius mutters.
“For what reason?” I ask, pushing through the doors to step into the garage. I push the button on the fob and listen for the car, then turn that way.
“It’s weird how people talk to you. Treat you. Flying on a plane. Being in an airport. A rental car? They’re bringing your luggage to the hotel for you.”
“I’m not sure what to say to that,” I admit.
We make our way to the car.
I smirk at Cassius, unlock the car, and open his door. “After you,” I say.
He gets in, and I close the door to round the sleek black Porsche 911. I get in and start her up.
“I’m surprised you don’t own ten of these,” he comments.
“Why would I do that? What would I do with them?”
“I don’t know. What do you rich people do with all those fancy cars?”
“I may be a rich person, as you love to point out, but as you can see, I do not fit in with all the others.” The words come out harsher than I mean for them too.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, then pull out of the spot and speed through the garage. “Hope you’re not afraid of driving fast.”
I speed down the highway… until we hit traffic and it’s no longer possible. That’s when I put the GPS on and navigate to the hotel. The valet takes it. I tip him nicely. We make our way to the elevator.
“So, do we have those rooms that share a door or something?” he asks.
I can’t help the smile that crosses my face.
“Your naivety is quite endearing,” I say.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re cute when you don’t know things.”
His smile is crooked. “You think I’m cute?”
“That alcohol is kicking in, isn’t it?”
“Maybe a little.”