The Layover by Lacie Waldon

Author:Lacie Waldon [Waldon, Lacie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

I DON’T BELIEVE things can get much worse until I walk into my hotel room and my new roommate steps on my heel. In nine years of flying, I’ve never once had to share a room with someone. I’ve never even heard of other flight attendants having to do so. It’s an offence. A travesty. It is, apparently, what happens when your plane breaks down and the hotel only has four available rooms.

“If they were gentlemen,” Gen grumbles, “the pilots would’ve offered to share and let us have our own rooms.”

“But think of poor Paul. Would you want to share a room with Captain Uptight?” I hold up my hand when her eyes brighten. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

“He’s so sexy, though. I bet he’d take my clothes off just so he could properly fold them.”

“Why do you have this thing for Captain Ballinger? Can’t you just like Paul?” I’m not sure if it’s our sudden status as roommates that’s caused me to give up all effort at subtlety, or just my desire to see someone—anyone—find the happiness I’ve recently lost. “He’s so great.”

“I suppose. He’s a little weird, though, isn’t he? He brought, like, five kinds of muffins to my door this morning. And when I invited him in to come in, he was all, ‘No, I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted you to have a nice breakfast.’”

“That doesn’t sound weird. It sounds sweet. Like he respects you.”

“Which is weird,” she says. “Which side of the bed do you want?”

I look around. The room is identical to the one I had last night, only this time there’s a view of the Caribbean through the balcony. I’d be happier with two double beds. I wrinkle my nose at the king-sized in the center of the room. Gen strikes me as a cuddler.

“Maybe I’ll just sleep on the floor,” I mutter.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Gen does a backward dive onto the bed, bouncing on her butt. Her shoes are still on. They probably have seagull poo on them. “I haven’t had a sleepover since I was a kid. We’re going to have so much fun!”

I can only imagine what mischief a young Gen was capable of getting into during a sleepover. The grape juice must’ve been spiked with her mother’s vodka. Everyone probably borrowed her black clothes to TP the neighborhood houses.

“If you’re expecting to play Truth or Dare,” I say firmly, “you’ll be doing it alone.”

“Ooh! Truth or Dare. That sounds fun.”

I consider asking if she minds if I use the luggage rack, but her roller has already toppled backward, spilling the contents of her tote onto the floor. I’m pretty sure she’s not going to bother to pick her stuff up, much less heave it onto a rack. Gen kicks her shoes off but leaves them on the bed. I take the rack for myself.

“Grab those leftover minis out of my tote,” she says. “Let’s get this party started.”

“I need to use the bathroom.” At her whine, I roll my eyes and grab a bottle of Baileys off the floor.

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