“It’s not getting any better,” Phil says, squinting out the windshield at the heavily falling rain. Melinda sighs, looking up from her phone, annoyed.
“And there’s no cell service. There was a sign about an inn about a mile back, it should be right up at this next turn,” she replies, and Phil nods. They’re silent as he pulls into the small inn- there are two other cars in the parking lot, and after making the dash through the pouring rain, are glad to see someone still sitting at the front desk.
“Hey there! Trapped in the storm too?” the beaming blonde clerk asked, and Phil nodded, pulling out the alias ID he had on him.
“My wife and I were hoping you had a spare room for the night,” he says, and Melinda takes the cue, stepping a little closer to him, softening her face into a small smile. The clerk’s beam grows, and she makes a few clicks on her keyboard, looking at her screen.
“We do have a spare room left, but unfortunately it’s the honeymoon suite,” she says, biting her lip, and Melinda feels her stomach seize up, but Phil manages to handle the situation smoothly.
“We’ll take it. Make it a romantic getaway,” he says, wrapping an arm around Melinda. The blonde is so distracted signing them in she doesn’t notice the shiver that slides up Melinda’s spine, and she avoids Phil’s gaze as he signs the slip the girl pushes towards them for the credit card charge.
“Here’s your key, and with the room comes an order of strawberries and champagne that will brought up to you in about an hour,” the girl tells them, and they don’t even argue because it’s clearly pointless. “Brunch is served at 10:30 and included in your stay! If you need anything, just give a call down here, my name’s Abby.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Phil said, giving her a smile, and Melinda easily slides her hand into his as they walk away, keycard in hand. Once the elevator doors close, neither of them drop the persona; Melinda moves closer, chin on his shoulder, and Phil’s arm wraps around her waist. “Feel like having a ‘forget about boundaries’ night?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Melinda said, moving in to kiss him, sighing as his mouth touched hers. “Just check in with Daisy, tell her we’ll get in contact tomorrow afternoon.”
“In a minute,” Phil said, dropping the things in his hands to slide them into her hair, kissing her harder as he backed her into the wall of the elevator. She smiled against his mouth, hands on his back.
