I sat down at the table, in the chair I didn’t normally sit in, so that I could stare at her standing at the counter.
“Hope you don’t mind if I borrow your jeans and stuff,” she said, turning around to face me, “the suit’s too tight to walk around in, let alone make coffee.” She smiled, nodding back to the bedroom as she brought our cups to the table. “Would you like me to put it back on?”
“That’s ok. We aim for comfort at this hotel,” I said.
She sat across from me and was just about to take a sip from her cup when she set it down. She stretched her hand out. I put my cup down, smiling, and gently shook her hand. It was warm and dry. I looked up at her.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“Yeah, same here. Glad it . . . uh . . . worked.”
“Me too,” she said. Her unease was tangible.
+ + +
