Micah
“Very nice. Too nice. There were people in uniforms all over the place. Not police—hotel employees. They sprang forward to get doors. To try to help with luggage. Micah actually let a bellman take our bags. I protested that we could carry them. He’d smiled and said to just enjoy it. I hadn’t enjoyed it. I had leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator and tried not to get angry.
Why was I angry? The hotel had surprised me, badly. I’d come expecting a clean-but-nothing-special room. Now we ...were going up in a glass and gilt elevator with a guy in white gloves pressing the buttons, explaining how the security on our little key cards worked.
My stomach was a tight knot. I had crossed my arms under my breasts, and even to me, I looked angry in the shiny mirrors.
Micah leaned beside me but didn’t try to touch me. “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice mild.
“I didn’t expect this kind of . . . place.”
“You’re mad because I booked us into a nice hotel with a nice room?”MoreLess
Why was I angry? The hotel had surprised me, badly. I’d come expecting a clean-but-nothing-special room. Now we ...were going up in a glass and gilt elevator with a guy in white gloves pressing the buttons, explaining how the security on our little key cards worked.
My stomach was a tight knot. I had crossed my arms under my breasts, and even to me, I looked angry in the shiny mirrors.
Micah leaned beside me but didn’t try to touch me. “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice mild.
“I didn’t expect this kind of . . . place.”
“You’re mad because I booked us into a nice hotel with a nice room?”MoreLess
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