brought in from China that morning, with fresh new shades on all of them. He didn’t have that many pillows in his whole house. All the art on the walls was perfectly coordinated with every color in the entire space. went back into the bathroom, hoping for and finding items housekeeping had placed on the counter. He was in luck, as mouthwash was part of the sundry line-up. He busted open the tiny, sealed bottle, took a few swigs, and swished it around in his mouth. The minty taste refreshed him. Who would have thought that the recipe for a clear head involved vomiting and a miniature bottle of mouthwash? He turned the faucet on, letting the water run until it was as cold as it was going to get, then filled his cupped hands and splashed the water on his face.
“Pretty good start,” he muttered to his reflection in the mirror. “Puking … talking to everyone but Annie. Yeah, the puking was a real nice touch.”
Grant left his room and made his way back towards the bar, admiring the antique furniture that seemed to be everywhere. He stopped in front of one of the hallway pieces and looked it over. He pulled out one of the drawers part-way, and bent down to look underneath it. He pushed and pulled on the drawer until he finally pulled it completely out of the piece. He looked at the sides and muttered something about it being “good dovetail.” A hotel employee startled him, asking him, if you please, sir, what are you doing to this armoire?
A brief exchange ensued, regarding the craftsmanship and quality of the work done on the piece. Grant reflected aloud on the irony of the fact that he couldn’t get his life in order, but he did know about working with wood.
“Could you direct me back to the bar?” Grant said.
The man was now placing the drawer back into the hole in the piece. “I can take you there, sir,” the man replied.
“No need. You can just tell me. Not quite sure how I got turned around. Well, I am, but….”
“I’m going that way anyway, sir, and it would be my pleasure.”
“Thanks. Course, you might just be looking after the furniture.”
“Sir?”
“Nothing. What’s your name?”
“Fausto. My name is Fausto,” the man answered. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Grant.”
“Welcome, Señor Grant.”
“Thanks. This is quite a place. I don’t get to places like this much. Or ever, for that matter. Guess I’m not supposed to take the furniture apart, am I?”
“I am sorry, sir. We recently had some students from the universities here and they were not the best of guests. I should not have been so disrespectful of you. Please forgive me,” the man said, now embarrassed.
“Hey, no need to apologize. Did you say universities? College kids stay at the Ritz? Hell, I used to sleep in my car, or on the ground … which is still a possibility for this weekend, actually,” Grant said, looking out the window.
They made their way back to the bar, passing more pieces of wooden furniture in the lobby, and dining areas. Grant paused to look at almost every piece of furniture along the way.
“I never know so many things about the furnitures. You know so much,” Fausto said, admiringly.
“Love working with wood. May be the only thing I’m good at,” Grant said, scratching his head.
“Could I help you with anything else?”
“Not unless you can go in there and talk with the three ladies in there for me,” Grant said.
“Tres?”
“Si, tres.”
“No Señor Grant, I have trouble talking with just one. You are here to see the three women?” Fausto said, his eyes open very wide.
“Well, not really … sort of. It is, well, I came to see an old friend, and hopefully a woman. I didn’t know about the other two. That doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“Not to me, but maybe to you,” Fausto said, his head turned to one side.
“Well, my life doesn’t make sense to me, either, so you’re not alone,” Grant said.
“I suppose.”
“Me too, for what that’s worth. Thanks for the tour, nice to meet you. Maybe I will see you around.”
“Thank you, Señor Grant, and watch out for the making the women loco-mad.”
“You want to tell me about your pals down at the other end of the bar?” Rex asked Isobelle, his gaze on the women a short distance away.
Annie and Kat glanced at each other.
“Are you sure he is with you?” Isobelle said, looking at Annie and Kat.
“I wouldn’t even begin to know how to answer that,” Annie said.
“I do,” Kat said.
“No Kat, it’s not necessary.”
“I have time,” Isobelle said.
“Annie, here, used to go with the man, Grant, who left. This one here, big mouth, is Grant’s friend. Apparently, they are a package deal, and no matter how much Grant might disappoint you, this one can make you absolutely furious. Great combination, huh?”
Rex looked back to the group.
“Kat. That short for … what, Katrina?”
“Yes,” Kat answered
“That’s Greek. You’re blonde.”
“Yes. My name is Katrina Ballas, but everyone calls me Kat. There are blonde people of Greek descent.”
“I’m just messing with you about the hair, but you should have said something sooner, Katrina Ballas, I would have ordered Metaxa. I would love to get a good Metaxa buzz going,” Rex said, looking back and forth, between Kat, and the women at the other end.
“What does Metaxa taste like?” Annie asked.
“Can’t remember, I was drunk,” Rex smiled.
Annie, Kat, and Isobelle chuckled at Rex’s comment.
“See what I mean?” Kat squinted.
“What’s funny?” Rex held his arms up.
“You, but in a different way than you probably think,” Kat patted him.
“Ok, so are you going with the good looking, quiet one now?” Isobelle asked.
“No,” Annie said.
“She’s seeing someone else, these two don’t know about that,” Kat whispered.
“I … you don’t….” Annie blushed.
“You
