Page 57 of Wrecking Us
I give myself to the count of thirty to be stressed out about this, then I lift my head, drink some water, and go back to work, pulling numbers to plug into these reports so we can get information for camp that starts in just a few weeks.
I’m not behind or anything—it just seems that no matter how much I prepare, I’m always crunching numbers until the last minute. I need data from other people before I can put my stuff together, and sometimes that takes forever. They all wait until the very last minute and Thompson told me I couldn’t push my dates any more to make them give me stuff sooner. Ridiculous, but I have to listen to the guy. He’s my boss.
I get through the rest of my day, and thankfully my work, but I’m only half focused on what I have to do, which makes more work for me because I am triple-checking everything. Trey keeps coming to mind, and the damn guilt that’s made a home in my chest won’t go away no matter how much water I drink—as if it’s supposed to just wash it away.
I pick up my phone a handful of times with the intention of texting Trey back, but each time I drop it back to my desk and tell myself to focus on work.
His joke about me finding time to work didn’t go over my head. I know I text him a lot throughout the day, but that’s onmyschedule. I make time to chat with him, and if he texts me when I’m busy, I don’t answer until I can.
Him showing up like that… well, it threw me for a loop and caused way more of a scene than necessary.
When I get through the day without HR knocking on my door, I’m relieved. Though, he could be waiting until tomorrow morning to speak with me. Or call me when I get home to tell me not to show up tomorrow. It’s unlikely but not impossible.
Thompson seemed to believe me and put his attention on something else—hopefully they’ll approve everyone who works back here to have a badge that we will need to swipe to get in through the doors. Trey isn’t the only person who’s gotten back here.
Just since I’ve been here there have been two crazed fans per season, family members, and even a homeless guy looking for a bathroom.
We have a lot of important information here that would really help out some other teams. The last thing we need is someone getting into it. So, yeah, Thompson isn’t entirely wrong with wanting that. I’m in support of it.
My day is done, so I grab my things and go to my car. I put all the windows down to let in the fresh air and glance up at the sky. It probably already rained for the day, which it tends to do around this time of year since it’s so humid.
I start my car and put it in drive, but then slam it back into park and grab my phone from my pocket. Trey said he was going to be at the convention tomorrow, which is right near the Hilton.
I try not to dwell on the fact that if he’s going to a convention for work, he’d have known about it long enough to give me a heads up—yet didn’t.
Of course, how is he supposed to know I hate surprises? And surprises at work? Fucking nightmare.
I enter the Hilton’s address into my GPS and follow the directions until I’m pulling into the parking lot. I head into the lobby. I could be completely off, but something tells me I’m not. I’ll know soon enough.
I hate lying, but if he is staying here, the only way I’m getting up to his room is to do so. And I don’t want to give him the heads up that I’m on the way. I want to catch him off guard.
I pull out my phone and scroll through the text thread with Trey as I walk up to the counter.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Yes, actually you can. My brother is staying here, and I swear he gave me his room number—” I flash the text. “But I can’t find it and he isn’t answering his cell. We’re going to be late for our dinner reservation.” I keep scrolling through the text, pretending to be annoyed. “Could you just call up to his room and let him know I’m down here? Trey Kelly.”
“Sure thing,” the woman says, picking up the phone on the desk.
I keep scrolling with my thumb, but my gaze is on the phone as she punches in the numbers.
“Wait, never mind. Just found it! Thank you!” I call as I hurry off toward the elevator.
I hit the button for 25— the top floor. The elevator doors open, and I step into a small hallway with expensive artwork on the wall, an end table with a vase of fresh flowers, and a blue velvet chair. The one and only door is to the right, so I go that way and knock—no,bang, on the door.
It’s pulled open a moment later, and I can’t help but think about how the tables have turned. He’s shocked to see me. That makes me happy. Though, I have no idea why. What am I going to do now? I was angry when I came here, but now that he’s in front of me, I can’t yell at him. All I can do is stare at him. Or rather at the way he has three buttons undone on his shirt, and the fact his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, which shows off his forearms. “Hudson?”
“Uh, hi,” I say, running my hand over the back of my neck. “Can I come in?”
He steps aside, not saying a word, and I walk in.
Everything is expensive, shiny, and spacious. I turn on my heel to face Trey just as he’s walking toward me.
“What the hell, Trey?”
“I’m sorry!” he blurts. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I was just trying to surprise you.”
“At my work? We’re not supposed to have visitors.”
