Cecelia slowy opened her eyes, and felt a stab of pain shooting through her head like a bolt of lightning. She grabbed for a pillow and buried her head underneath it.
Where did this pillow come from?
Cecelia felt a wave of fear wash over her. She didn't know where she was; only that she was in a bed. Slowly, she opened one eye and tried to get her bearings. Cecelia quickly realized that she was in her hotel room. She breathed a sigh of relief, but was shocked when she realized that she was lying in bed completely naked. What on earth had happened last night?
Cecelia closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened, how she got back to the hotel, anything. The last thing she remembered was drinking and flirting with Patrick at the bar, then the two of them went back to the hotel together.
Back to the hotel.
Together.
"Shit." whispered Cecelia to herself. She had no idea what had happened that night, but she had some theories. She needed to get dressed and find Patrick.
As Cecelia climbed out of bed and stood up, her injured foot protested with a wave of aches. She would have to be careful not to reinjure herself, but the most important thing right now was finding that son-of-a-bitch, Patrick.
Cecelia dressed and hurried downstairs to the pool area. Just as she had hoped, she saw Patrick setting up chaise lounges by the bar. She walked over to him, and when he saw her he smiled and began to wave.
SLAP! The sound echoed across the pool area, as Cecelia slapped Patrick across his face so hard that he stumbled backwards.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Celia?" yelled Patrick.
"Me?" shouted Cecelia, "What the hell is wrong with you, you low-life fuck?"
Patrick stood there, holding his throbbing cheek in his hand while Cecelia continued shouting at him.
"You think I'm just another spring break piece of ass that you can screw and ditch before moving onto the next catch of the day?" shouted Cecelia.
"Celia, I can see that you're very angry," said Patrick, "but I honestly don't know what I did to you."
"First of all, it's Dr. Shanahan." said Cecelia, "And secondly, I don't know what you did either, because apparently you took off as soon as you were done. I woke up naked with out so much as a fucking note saying thanks for the lay and have a nice life!"
"Look Cel, er, Dr. Shanahan, I couldn't tell you if you woke up naked or dressed up like Little Richard." said Patrick as he backed away slowly. "All I know is that after you puked in my car, I dropped you off in front of the lobby entrance, and you headed up to your room"
Cecelia glared at Patrick.
"Alone." added Patrick.
Cecelia turned around and rubbed her temples as she tried to think. Could Patrick be right about the previous night? She struggled to remember anything about the end of the evening, but her memory would not reveal anything.
"I threw up?" asked Cecelia as she turned around.
"Oh yeah." said Patrick. "And then some. I didn't get the car completely cleaned until this morning. The only thing that made me feel better is that you didn't escape the friendly fire."
"That bad?" asked Cecelia.
"It was everywhere; Your clothes, Your hair." said Patrick. "You made quite a spectacle of yourself."
"I guess that explains why I woke up naked." said Cecelia. "Clean, but naked."
Patrick just nodded and stared at Cecelia.
"I'm sorry." said Cecelia. "I guess I just.. When I woke up, I... Nevermind. I'm sorry, very sorry."
"No problem... Dr. Shanahan." replied Patrick as he went back to straightening the chaise lounges.
Cecelia looked towards the hotel lobby, and saw the large clock hanging above the concierge desk. It was almost 10 o'clock.
"Shit." muttered Cecelia. She had slept in and was going to miss her flight home if she didn't get a move on.
Cecelia hobbled up to her room and started throwing her clothing into her suitcase. She quickly got dressed and put on some makeup, and then made a dash for the elevator. Soon, she was cruising down Interstate 195 towards Miami International Airport.
Cecelia was navigating the security line when her cell phone rang. It was her boyfriend, Nick.
"Hey Nicky!" said Cecelia as she answered.
"Hi Sweetie!" said Nick, "How was the conference?"
"Boring, but I survived" said Cecelia.
"Did you at least get a chance to make it to the beach?" asked Nick.
"Yeah," said Cecelia looking down at her foot, "but it wasn't that great."
"Bummer." said Nick. "Everything looking good with your flight?"
"Yup." said Cecelia, "Still on-schedule."
"Great!" said Nick, "See you tonight?"
"Yup." said Cecelia, "See you tonight!"
"Love you, Sweetie!" said Nick.
"Love you too, Nicky" said Cecelia as she hung up the phone.
Cecelia cleared security and headed to her gate. When she got there and looked at the departure screens, she noticed that the earlier flight to Boston was delayed and had not left yet. Cecelia walked over to the earlier flight's gate and saw passengers milling about. The sign showed a departure time of 11:30 am, which was twenty minutes away. The flight had still not left.
Cecelia walked up to the podium where a gate agent was shuffling paperwork.
"Pardon me," said Cecelia, "Is this flight full?"
"No ma'am." replied the gate agent.
"I'm ticketed on the 1:00 pm flight to Logan." said Cecelia as she handed the gate agent her boarding pass, "Can I standby for this flight?"
"Let me see what I can do." said the gate agent.
Twenty minutes later Cecelia boarded the earlier flight, and settled into her cramped coach class seat for her trip back to Boston.
Cecelia tried to spend the flight reviewing some materials from the conference, but she couldn't concentrate. Her mind kept wandering back to the previous night. Of all the places to run into someone from Boston, it would have to be at her hotel! He was kind of cute though, tanned and laid-back; so different from the rat-racers that inhabited downtown Boston.
Cecelia wondered what would have happened had she not gotten sick. How far could things have gone between her and Patrick? Most importantly, what the heck was she thinking going drinking with him in the first place?
That last question snapped Cecelia back to the present. As the plane descended into Boston, She tried to wipe the memories of her evening with Patrick from her mind. It was nothing after all. She was blowing off some steam after a boring conference and just happened to let a local show her around town. What was the harm in that?
By the time Cecelia walked in the front door of her Back Bay apartment, it was already late in the afternoon. She had already decided that the day was shot, and that her best plan would be to spend the evening relaxing and resting her swollen foot. She walked into the foyer of her apartment and stopped cold in her tracks.
The lights in her apartment were on, and Nick's wallet and car keys were sitting on the table. Next to the keys was a pair of women's lace underwear, a couple of wine glasses, and a silk scarf. She could also hear noises coming from the back of the apartment.
"Shit." Cecelia thought to herself, "What the hell was Nick doing home from work this early, and whose lingerie was sitting on the table?"
Cecelia stormed towards the back of the apartment and into the bedroom, determined to get some answers.
