Chapter Eight

Brent

I kick the wheel of my Jeep with my boot and shake my head. Of all the times for me to have a flat. I slide the glove off of my right hand and trail my fingers over the sharp piece of metal protruding from the tire. Where would I have picked up something like this?

I look down at my watch even though I know it's past the time for the tire shop to be open. I consider calling roadside assistance, but with the way things are right now, it could be hours if not days before they're able to get here. And even then, I'm not sure I want to be riding around with a spare. Calling my dad is definitely not an option.

I look around the parking lot, the snow clearly over my head in many places. The latest weather report said this front could very well drop another foot of snow and from the looks of things, we're going to get that plus more. So much for making it home and building that fire tonight.

I walk around to the passenger side and lift my small overnight bag from the floorboard. This is the very reason why I carry an extra change of clothes with me all the time.

I make my way inside the hotel part of the casino and head over to the guest services counter. It's not the first time I've had to spend the night here and it probably won't be the last. I explain to the person in charge about my flat tire and inquire about getting a room at the employee rate. She takes my badge with her and disappears to the back. It's been such a long, trying day, I'd honestly enjoy taking a hot shower and climbing in the bed. Maybe check out a couple of the basketball games on TV before calling it a night.

I'm beginning to think I'm out of luck getting a room because of how long she's taking but she finally emerges, an envelope with a plastic keycard inside clenched in her hand. "Sorry it took so long. We're getting low on comped rooms for the night. I found you one, though, in the Mountain Tower. If you think you're going to need an additional night, give us a call in the morning so we can get that taken care of for you."

"Sweet. Thanks for your help. I appreciate it." I take the envelope from her and head down to the bank of elevators.

A couple close to my own age steps into the elevator with me and I move to the side to allow them both plenty of room.

"Eight, please," the man says and places his hand against the woman's lower back.

I recognize the white bag she's carrying from the café downstairs, the same café I'd told Annie about. I'm not sure what's inside, but man, it smells delicious. My stomach begins to growl and I pray neither of them notice.

My room is nice and toasty when I walk in and I quickly adjust the thermostat after I peel off several layers of clothing. Don't get me wrong, I like it to be comfortable when I go to bed, but if it gets too warm, I won't be able to sleep.

The curtains are closed to help with the heat and I peek out the side to see if the snow has gotten any worse. "Oh, geez," I mumble under my breath. There's so much snow coming down right now, I can hardly see the parking deck down below. I really don't want to stay here longer than I have to, but from the looks of things, I may not have much of a choice.

I take a seat on the side of the bed and pull the phone that's on the nightstand over towards me. The operator connects me to the café and I place an order for pick-up. I'll grab a couple drinks while I'm down there, then head back here in time to catch the game. I'll probably fall asleep before halftime, but who cares. It's not like I'm going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

I change into the pair of sweats and a hoodie that was in my duffel bag then laugh at my reflection in the mirror. Apparently, I grabbed the wrong hoodie the last time I did laundry at my parents' house. Now don't get me wrong, I think my parents' two chihuahuas are pretty cool pups, but I don't think having their faces plastered on the front of a sweatshirt is something I want the rest of the world to see me wearing. My father, on the other hand, has proudly sported this shirt more times that I can count. I bet he's been going crazy trying to figure out what had happened to it.

I honestly don't feel like changing back into my work clothes, since I'll only be gone for a few minutes, so I quickly turn the shirt inside out and pray no one notices. If they do, I'll play it off and pretend I wasn't even aware of it.

"Hi, I called in an order a few minutes ago," I tell the young woman standing behind the counter at the entrance of the café. I take a few steps back and fold my hands across my chest while she goes to the back for my food.

I look around the restaurant, surprised at how slow they are tonight. Normally, this place would be packed, with a line extending around the corner. No doubt, the weather must've kept many of the locals at home. I can't say I blame them—I wouldn't be here either had it not been for my flat tire.

Suddenly, my gaze lands on the table in the back corner—a young woman having dinner all alone. I may have only spoken to her briefly, but I'd recognize her face anywhere. Annie. I wave, hoping that she recognizes me. Even from this far away, I'm able to see the smile light up on her face.

"Would you like some crackers to go with your soup?" the café attendant asks as soon as she sets my order down on the counter.

"Oh, uh, sure." I was so consumed with watching Annie, I'm not even sure what the attendant asked me about until she drops a handful of individually wrapped crackers down into the bag.

"I've put you some extra napkins in there too," she says.

"Are the drinks inside the bag?" I ask and steal another glance Annie's way.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Let me get them for you," she says and runs off to the back again.

Is it wrong that I want to go over and say hi to Annie? I know she's eating and probably doesn't want to be disturbed, but I'd feel bad if I didn't at least say something. I'm halfway over to her table when I realize…my inside-out sweatshirt!