Liam Benjamin rolled over to find himself face to face with a young woman whose cheekbone bore a large birthmark resembling a dark thumbprint, with little hairs peeking through like mice. He stared at it for a moment, unable to suppress a cringe. His mind conjured up the only plausible explanation — she must have had quite the head bump on her way out of the womb.
"Why am I sleeping with random girls sporting massive birthmarks on their faces?" he thought, a wave of self-doubt washing over him. "What happened to my standards, my integrity, my manhood?"
It was utterly ridiculous for Liam to be lying next to a woman he had just met in a shabby downtown hotel room. But in his hung-over state, his ability to think clearly seemed compromised. "Wait, don't I have a girlfriend? Oh, right...scratch that."
Taking a closer look at her, he admitted to himself that she appeared sweet enough, despite the birthmark that made her resemble a football enthusiast. Her lips moved slightly as she started to stir. Liam could already sense that she possessed the kind of temperament capable of genuinely caring for him—a quality he desired above all else. She groaned and placed her hands on her forehead.
Removing her hands and tucking away some strands of blonde hair, she locked her innocent blue eyes with his. "Can you hurry up and pay me? I've got to get out of here. It's seventy-five dollars."
"Wait, what? Pay you? What are you talking about?" Liam coughed, feeling a lump forming in his throat. The girl widened her eyes, adopting an irresistible puppy-dog sweetness.
"I was good, wasn't I? Didn't you enjoy it? I feel like I can barely walk."
"Of course you were good," he replied, relieved to provide the response that would comfort her, rolling onto his elbow and offering a smile.
"Good! Then pay me my seventy-five dollars!" she demanded.
Liam's jaw dropped, utterly lost in the situation. His hesitation only seemed to anger her further. "That's it! I'm calling my dad. Where's my phone?"
Pulling the comforter tightly around her neck, she reached for her clothes on the floor and attempted to dress under the sheets.
"Your dad? Why?" he winced.
"Because he'll have something to say when he learns you've stiffed us," she snarled. "If there's one thing he hates more than deadbeats, it's his daughter giving out freebies."
"Your dad is your pimp? That's insane! Wait, wait, wait," he rambled, sensing an imminent angry outburst. "This was a consensual thing. We met in a bar, had a few drinks, and decided to grab a room. We don't need to involve anybody else. It was romantic."
Liam feigned another smile, hoping to salvage something from the ideal night out he had envisioned. The girl pursed her lips, gazing at him for a moment, contemplating something.
"What's my name?"
Shutting his eyes, he silently berated himself for not remembering. "Fee, Fee, Frey, Freya? No, Phoebe!"
Groaning loudly, her mouth twisted in disgust. She hopped out of bed, clad only in her bra and panties, and reached for her bag slumped against an overturned chair.
Was I wrong? Liam wondered.
He slipped out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of Tommy's boxers, and grabbed his navy blue t-shirt to pull it over his black hair and muscular back. The fabric hugged his stomach, hinting at the abs beneath.
"If you don't know my name, that makes the charge one-hundred dollars. Every girl knows that rule: it's one-hundred bucks if he doesn't know your name the morning after," she declared.
An incredulous expression formed on Liam's face. Completely lost, he couldn't fathom what was happening. His hesitation displeased her. "That's it! I'm calling my dad. Where's my phone?"
Liam's jaw tightened. "No, no! Please, let's not involve anyone else. This was just a misunderstanding. We can figure this out without any outside interference."
The girl chuckled, grabbed her bag, and tiptoed toward him until they were close enough to kiss. She fluttered her eyelids and ran her finger across his chest.
"I poked a pinhole in the condom while you were in the bathroom. My period isn't due for a couple of days, so I'd say you have a fifty-fifty chance of receiving a call from me in about nine months. The hundred dollars will be the least of your worries."
Brushing past him, she headed for the door, leaving it open. A sickening revulsion surged at the back of Liam's throat. Drained of energy, he collapsed onto the bed, hiding his face in his hands. She didn't appear to have any trouble walking at all.
*****
Two striking young women marched into the hotel lobby, disregarding the smiling doorman facilitating their entrance. Leading the way was Mila Wright, a thin brunette with exaggerated heels, a short skirt, and a top that seemed more appropriate for nightwear. Her determined gaze hinted at a trickster's calculating and always-in-control nature.
Aria Bentley, a curvaceous black girl, followed closely behind. Strong and agile, she wore a blue dress and matching cap. Her attention was focused intently on texting, her thumbs rapidly tapping away on the phone's buttons.
When Mila reached the front desk, Aria stood by her side, glancing up and frowning at the clerk.
"Can you tell me the room number for Liam Benjamin?" Mila asked, lips pursed with irritation. The clerk ignored her.
"Tell me which room Liam Benjamin is in," she insisted, only to receive a bemused look from the clerk. "I said please!" she added.
"I'm sorry, but we don't have anyone by that name staying here," the clerk replied, shaking his head with apparent regret. Mila shot her friend a look.
"Damn it. Maybe he checked in under his drunken alter ego," she pondered, turning back to the attendant. "Do you have anyone named Fabio Lipsmackerdoodle staying here?"
"I was trying to be polite. I can't disclose the names or room numbers of our guests," he explained before suddenly donning a strange grin and raising his eyebrows. "But, you know, I do have a room available if you're interested. It's never too early for a fifteen-minute break, right?"
He chuckled and revealed a silver room key in his hand. It appeared fancier than the others, indicating a good room, but Mila narrowed her eyes at him and clenched her fists.
"I wouldn't let you near me if I carved out my vagina with an ice-cream scoop and replaced it with a wood-chipper!" she retorted, moving away from the desk and storming toward one of the hallways. "My body is for my boyfriend only!"
Approaching the long hallway with doors on either side, Mila slowed down, placing her hand on her chin. Although the hotel only had two floors, she had no clue where Liam might be.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Aria inquired.
Mila shot Aria an irritated glance. "No, Aria, I'm not sure. But I know he has the good sense to at least get a non-smoking room. I bet he didn't even bother with a newspaper since he can barely read," Mila muttered, tiptoeing along the hallway.
Cleaning carts dotted the corridor, and a few doors were left ajar. Mila chewed her bottom lip as they peered into each room. Towards the end, a cleaning lady donned a pair of rubber gloves, fastened goggles onto her face, and grabbed a large bottle of bleach.
"No, no! Quick! She'll contaminate the scene!" Mila whispered urgently.
They slipped into the last room, managing to sneak in ahead of the attendant, who wore a meek smile as she shuffled in behind them. Taking one look at the colossal mess before them, there was a chance that it could be the room they were searching for.
"We've decided not to check out. Bye!" Aria blurted, promptly shutting the door in the cleaning lady's face. The pungent scent of lovemaking hung in the air, making them gag.
"There's got to be some kind of proof that he was here. I need to know if he's ditched me for some STD-ridden skank who's hungrier for sex than a World of Warcraft dork," Mila moaned, stepping over empty bottles and scanning the disheveled bed. Maybe he had forgotten something from his wallet. Perhaps she would recognize a piece of his clothing. There had to be some trace of him left in this wrecked hotel room.
"What happened between you and Liam anyway? And why don't you just call him?" Aria asked, her eyes still fixated on her phone as her thumbs moved with lightning speed. Mila turned to her, pointing a finger.
"That's none of your business! And he's not answering my calls. Can you just help me look for one minute? I promise we'll get you some fried chicken and watermelon afterwards," Mila jabbed, hoping to motivate Aria. She bit her lip but reluctantly began scanning the room.
"I'm not seeing anything. Just overturned furniture, beer stains on the rug, and a bed that looks like it was the scene of a World War II reenactment," Aria reported, her attention divided between the room and her incessant texting.
Mila, feeling the disappointment seep in, flicked on the bathroom light and stared into the mirror. Placing her hands on each side of the sink, she remembered that it hadn't been too long since Liam had taken her to similar trashy hotel rooms. The recollection of having her face pressed against the glass as he unloaded his sub on her from behind made her heart sink.
Sulking, she rested her head against the mirror and caught sight of something that made her gasp. Suddenly elated, she knelt down next to a used, crusty condom that had narrowly missed the trash bin. She beamed at it, letting her fingers drift closer before picking it up.
"Look what I found!" she shouted to Aria when her friend entered the room, proudly displaying the flaccid piece of latex. Aria was seated in a chair she had turned right side up, legs crossed, fingers tapping away on her phone. She cringed when she finally looked at what Mila had brought out.
"You must have been a blast at second-grade show-and-tell," Aria deadpanned, irritating Mila.
"Just shut up. This is all the proof we need! We'll be able to tell for sure whether or not he was here," she declared. "Look, there's a pinhole in the bottom. Bitches have no dignity anymore."
"What are you doing with that thing?" Aria asked.
An agonized sigh escaped Mila's lips as she dropped her shoulders. "Give me a break, okay? This is the only way to know if he was here." She brushed her finger against it before bringing it to her mouth.
"It's salty, a little bitter, with a distinct flavor of Cool Ranch Doritos! It's him!" Mila exclaimed, her hands in the air and her smile gleaming brightly.
"Yay," Aria muttered. "So, we went through all that trouble when he's obviously not here anymore. What are we supposed to do now?"
Mila flung the condom at the window, where it stuck, and placed her fist under her chin, deep in thought. She needed to find him as soon as possible. He had to know how she felt. She had planned to catch him before he went to work, but that chance was now gone.
"We'll have to catch him by surprise when he shows up at his job," she decided, heading towards the door. Aria sighed and rose from the chair she had tidied up.
Exiting the hotel, the two women strode into the parking lot. Mila halted near a red sports car, letting her finger trail across its back end. Smiling,she circled around to the driver's side door. The interior was immaculate, featuring custom leather seats, and the speedometer soared past two hundred. Mila could see her reflection in the pristine glass, warming her from within. Casually, she reached out to grasp the door handle, only to be interrupted by Aria's voice calling out to her.
"Girl, what are you doing? Your car's over here!"
Deflated, Mila withdrew her hand and reluctantly stepped back from the tempting sports car. Aria stood a few spaces away, by the passenger door of an old station wagon. Dragging her heels against the pavement, Mila begrudgingly made her way toward her bulky, dirty vehicle. Despite its air mattress and bee decals on the windows, it remained a source of embarrassment.
"Come on, let's just go," she grumbled, pulling open the driver's door.
The engine sputtered to life, emitting a cloud of smoke before settling into a steady, if noisy, rhythm. Aria hopped into the passenger seat, her attention still divided between her phone and the road ahead.
Mila peered into the rearview mirror, her gaze meeting her own determined eyes. Liam Benjamin, wherever he was, needed to feel the weight of her presence. She had things to say, feelings to convey, and she wouldn't rest until she had him cornered.
Her foot pressed against the accelerator, and the station wagon lurched forward, its worn tires screeching against the pavement. Mila set her sights on Liam's workplace, her mind filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty. What awaited her there? Would she find the closure she sought, or would the confrontation only deepen the chaos that had already unfolded?
As they sped down the road, their makeshift chariot propelled them closer to their destination. The engine rattled, its protest echoing Mila's own inner turmoil. It was time to confront the man who had left her feeling used, discarded, and betrayed.
With each passing mile, Mila's resolve grew stronger. She knew the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but she was ready to face them head-on. The morning aftermath had shaken her to the core, exposing vulnerabilities she hadn't realized existed. But she refused to let the chaos define her.
In the rearview mirror, the cityscape blurred into a mix of lights and shadows. Mila tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. Determination coursed through her veins, propelling her forward. She wouldn't rest until she found Liam Benjamin, confronted him with her truth, and claimed the closure she deserved.
The station wagon roared along the winding roads, the sound of its engine mingling with the rhythm of Mila's beating heart. Ahead, the building that housed Liam's workplace loomed, a beacon of uncertainty and possibility.
Mila took a deep breath, exhaling all doubts and insecurities. She was ready to face the man who had left her tangled in a web of confusion. No matter what awaited her inside those walls, she would walk in with her head held high, armed with the wit, resilience, and determination that defined her.
*****
Thank you for reading 💕💕💕💕💕💕