As the last embers of their cigarettes faded into the night air, Adonis felt a shift in the atmosphere. He took a long drag, savoring the city lights reflected in Griselda's eyes.
"Mind if we switch locations?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.
Griselda cocked her head, a playful smile gracing her lips.
"And where do you suggest we go, Nero? Surprise me!"
There was a lilt in her voice, a hint of challenge that sent a spark of excitement through him.
With a slow, charming smile, Adonis leaned closer.
"Let's go somewhere a little more...discreet," he replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A quiet motel, perhaps?"
Griselda's smile widened, a knowing glint in her dark eyes. Adonis hadn't missed the way she'd subtly assessed the clientele earlier, the way her fingers had brushed his when they'd shared a cigarette. She wasn't here for idle conversation.
"Bold, aren't you?" she teased, a playful lilt in her voice.
Adonis shrugged, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Well," he drawled, "I like to get straight to the point. Beating around the bush isn't exactly my forte."
Griselda threw back her head and laughed, a sound as captivating as the city lights shimmering below.
"Why not then," she declared, a hint of excitement replacing her amusement.
"Let's go. Hopefully, your surprises don't end here. Wouldn't want things to get boring, would we?"
Adonis barked out a laugh, the sound echoing through the cool night air.
"Don't worry," he replied, his voice laced with confidence.
"I can assure you, the night is far from over. In fact, it's just getting started."
With that, they signaled for the check. Much to his surprise, Griselda insisted on paying. He didn't argue, a slow smile creeping across his face. There was more to this woman than met the eye, a hidden layer of mystery that only added to her allure.
Leaving the bar's cool embrace, they stepped back into the bustling city. The air thrummed with a different kind of energy now, a secret shared, a promise hanging unspoken between them. Adonis hailed a cab, his hand brushing against Griselda's as they climbed in. As the cab weaved through the neon-lit streets, Adonis stole a glance at her. Her face, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, was a canvas of intrigue.
The cab pulled to a stop in front of a neon-drenched haven – The Starry Nights Motel.
Gone was the sleek minimalism of The Gilded Griffin, replaced by a decidedly more retro charm. A faded pink neon sign, its edges buzzing with a faint electrical hum, proclaimed the motel's name in a whimsical script. Manicured palm trees, their fronds swaying gently in the night breeze, lined the gravel parking lot, casting long, distorted shadows in the flickering neon glow.
The two-story building itself was a pastel pink stucco affair, adorned with a smattering of fake balconies and wrought-iron railings that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. Each room boasted a picture window, most of them curtained in a mismatched assortment of floral patterns. A single, flickering light bulb cast a sickly yellow glow over the office sign, promising vacancy.
Adonis, a familiar visitor to such establishments, chuckled inwardly. This wasn't the Ritz, but it had a certain undeniable charm – a faded grandeur whispering of forgotten trysts and whispered secrets. He paid the cabbie, his gaze lingering on Griselda for a moment before he offered her a hand out of the car.
As they approached the office door, a worn, wooden sign creaked gently in the breeze:
"No Refunds.''
Adonis couldn't help but grin. This place reeked of a bygone era, a time capsule of kitsch and neon that promised a night of anonymity and, hopefully, a touch of unexpected pleasure.
Adonis, not wanting for her to cover these expenses or else he would appear like a douche, insisted on covering the night's stay. The gruff night clerk, a man with a thick mustache and a perpetual scowl, barely grunted an acknowledgment as he passed them a key.
Adonis, unfazed, took it with a wink and muttered "Thanks," ushering Griselda through the creaky office door.
Their room, number 13 (a detail Adonis conveniently ignored), was surprisingly different from the exterior's faded charm.
Pushing open the door, they were greeted by a burst of unexpected vibrancy. The walls, instead of the anticipated peeling pink, were a cheerful sunshine yellow, adorned with a quirky collection of vintage travel posters - gondolas gliding across Venetian canals, sleek art deco figures sipping cocktails on a beautiful beach.
A plush, king-sized bed, draped in a satiny, seafoam green spread, dominated the center of the room. Two mismatched sofa armchairs, one a vibrant floral print, the other a deep, burnt orange leather, sat nestled beside a low coffee table adorned with a chipped ceramic ashtray. A floor lamp in the cast a warm, amber glow, creating an intimate atmosphere.
The pièce de résistance, however, was the bathroom, a half-moon-shaped window offered a sliver of a view of the cityscape, bathed in the soft glow of the moon. The floor, instead of the expected drab tile, was a mosaic of brightly colored pebbles, each one shimmering in the light. A clawfoot bathtub, gleaming white porcelain, sat invitingly in the corner. A rack of fluffy white towels, scented with a hint of lavender, hung beside it.
Adonis, a touch surprised by the unexpected upgrade, turned to Griselda, a questioning smile playing on his lips. This room, with its quirky charm and unexpected elegance, was a far cry from the typical motel experience. It was a delightful surprise, a hint of hidden quality beneath the neon facade.
"Well," he said in a low voice,
"What do you think?"