Burn (Songs of Submission #5)(19)
Author: C.D. Reiss

“Seven,” I said. “It’s gotta be done in time for the preview at four.”

“It’s tight,” Darren said.

“And we have zero experience doing this kind of thing, so Kevin needs a wake up call, too.” I kicked Darren. “That’s you.”

I noticed Jonathan’s silence, but I didn’t look over. I didn’t want to see his reaction.

Hotel C looked like all of Jonathan’s hotels, a sleek, modern building no one would mistake for home. The long front drive had a marble fountain, and the entire hotel seemed to be made of glass and steel. Staff descended upon us immediately with Mister Drazen this and Ma’am and Sir that. Darren stayed outside to manage the equipment unloading. We got through the door and entered a lobby done in black and brown, wood and matte surfaces, with a cement floor and warehouse ceilings. A woman with her brown hair in a French twist and a black leather skirt handed Jonathan a clipboard. She looked lovely despite the fact that it was after ten p.m.

“Mister Drazen, happy to see you back.”

“Thanks, Marsha. Can you call Kristin for tomorrow’s meetings please? There were some changes.”

“Of course.”

“Should we go check in?” I asked Jonathan, who was signing a bunch of papers.

“Done already.”

“Must be nice.”

“I admit it,” he said as he handed the clipboard back to Marsha with a smile. “It is. Where’s Darren?”

“Getting the processor and mixer out. His life is those computers.”

“Are you and I having a drink before bed?”

A drink. I’d agree to anything after a drink. I’d beg for anything, even without it, and he’d deny me just to make a point. “I’m wiped out.”

“Come on then. Marsha will sort Darren out.”

I looked back at my friend and found him talking to Marsha earnestly while indicating equipment. My guess was he wanted to take it up himself and sleep on top of it, and she wanted to put it in with hotel security. That argument could go on indefinitely.

A man appeared behind Jonathan. “Mister Drazen?”

“Anthony.”

“Can I help you with anything? Take you up to your room? Get you a table at the bar?”

Jonathan turned to me and asked, “Do you need something to eat?”

I didn’t answer right away. I don’t know what my expression said, but something about it caused Jonathan to turn to Anthony and say, “We’ll let you know.”

“Very good, sir.” He spun on his heel and walked away.

“What is it, Monica?”

“I have a problem.”

“Say it.”

“I know I’m tired and hungry, and I have a lot to do tomorrow. But I can’t play this game with you. I’m not good at it. I want you. I want to be naked with you right now. The fact that I’m this close to you and I can smell you, feel you, hear you… Fuck, I’m going crazy.”

“It’s entirely reciprocated.”

“You don’t look like you’re going nuts.”

“Self-control. That’s all it is.”

“I can’t sit across a table from you. I barely made it through the plane ride. The past few weeks have been dead for me. My body shut off. Then you came along. I want it shut off again because I’ll agree to anything right now.”

He leaned into me, not touching, his hands in his pockets. “I’ll only let you commit to me if you mean it. I won’t let you make a mistake because I won’t tolerate you walking away again.”

I leaned toward him a little. I felt the warmth of his breath, and his open jacket brushed my shoulder. “That first time we met, in your office, I threatened you with a lawsuit.”

“You floored me.”

“You handed me Sam’s card. I brushed your finger with mine.”

“Yes.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” I said. “I wish I’d just walked out.”

“It was too late way before that.”

“I need to go to my room alone. And I need to not know where you are.”

He smiled. “I’m right next door to you.”

“I just told you not to tell me.”

He chuckled and shrugged.

Darren came up to us, a valet rolling the hardcase behind him.

“I have some things to do here,” Jonathan said. “I’ll have Anthony show you to your rooms.”

With that, he strode off to meet Marsha by the counter.

“Handsome guy, I’ll admit,” Darren said as we watched Jonathan move across the floor as if he owned the joint. “And not half the ass**le.”

“But Kevin’s better?”

Darren shrugged. “Kevin’s my friend at this point. And so are you. So for me, it seems natural.”

“Not to me.”

“I’m getting that.”

CHAPTER 19.

MONICA

The room wasn’t a room. It was one of two suites on the top floor. I saw the skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows in every direction. The décor matched the lobby’s; matte blacks and dark matte woods with textured grains stained for contrast. I traversed the corners and expanses of the living area and bedroom, every step further proof that I was alone. The black leather couch was too big. Seating for six. Closet space for a family or clothes horse.

Something was missing. After the second time I circumnavigated the rooms, I realized that I didn’t feel as though I was being watched. I hadn’t realized the feeling stayed with me when I locked my door behind me, but in its absence, I grasped that it had.

I tried to call Kevin and got no answer. We were on international roaming. He’d probably off shut his phone. We needed him. He’d taken us on to energize the creative process, but the practicalities of an installation were beyond me. If he got held up too long, Darren and I would be in a world of shit.

I pulled my jacket off, and the sleeve went inside out. The poly-satin undersleeve’s seam had split ages ago, but the loose threads and edges were invisible when I wore it, so I kept the thing, promising to fix it some day. Were our relationships jackets we wore? Every one was a manageable, condensed, digestible thing on the outside with a gaping wound on the inside. Then when we pulled ourselves out, they prolapsed, like a jacket sleeve, and exposed the raw, broken places we never got around to fixing?

I looked at the jacket a little too long. I was so f**king horny and pink, it was painful. Jonathan was right. We could f**k ourselves blue, but until we figured out how to be together, we were only using each other’s bodies for mutual immolation.