We pulled into Fredericksburg early in the afternoon and immediately began to peruse the various shops for clothes and other basic necessities. Given our situation, we kept our heads down—always speaking low, not bothering to give a cashier or even a drive-thru clerk much of a direct gaze. We barely even addressed each other by name, such was the need for discretion. The whole thing made for a very, very dark situation.
By the time we pulled up to the bed and breakfast, the worst of my fears had begun to manifest.
“Guy,” I said, grimacing as he popped the driver’s-side door open. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“What?”
“Getting a room, staying here for the night.”
“We have to sleep somewhere,” he said. “Besides—I have a way with people.”
The slight wag of his eyebrows, followed by that devilishly-sexy yet dangerous grin, gave way for nothing but sarcasm.
With a sigh, I crawled out of the car, gathered the few bags filled with our necessities, and followed Guy up to the inn.
Immediately upon entering, the hairs on my neck rose on end.
I wasn’t one for paranoia—at least, not normally. Maybe it was because I was usually so laid-back about anything and really didn’t have anything to be nervous about, but standing here, in the bed and breakfast lobby, I felt like I had a target trained on the back of my head.
Pop goes the weasel, I thought rather grimly.
The young man behind the counter—who couldn’t have been much younger than I was—raised his head as Guy and I approached and smiled. “Ah, gentlemen,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re looking to get a room for the night,” Guy responded, inclining his head toward me and giving me a reassuring look.
“Just one bed, or…”
“One is fine.”
The clerk turned to a computer system and began to click keys at a breakneck speed. “All right, mister…”
“Gordon,” Guy said. “Gordon Johnson.”
“Johnson. I’ll just need a form of identification and a credit card and then I’ll be able to…”
Guy jerked his elbow and upended a plastic cup of pens at the side as he reached into his pocket to pull his wallet out.
The young man leaned forward.
“Here, let me get that,” Guy said, pressing his hand atop the clerk’s. The man’s eyes softened and appeared to take on a brief, translucent hue before returning to normal. “Sorry about the mess. I’d just remembered that I don’t have my credit card on me right now.”
“Oh,” the man said.
Guy’s hand didn’t stray.
“Is there any way you could accept cash?” Guy asked. “Just for me. Just this once?”
“I… my manager…”
Guy slid his thumb along the underside of the man’s wrist.
“I guess I could do it, just this once,” he said, pulling his hand back. “A one-bedroom for a Mr. Johnson? For how many nights?”
“Three days and four nights,” Guy said.
“That’ll be three-hundred even.”
A number of bills were passed between Guy and the man behind the counter before a room pass was exchanged. “Third door on your right,” he said. “Overlooking the courtyard.”
Guy smiled and offered the man his thanks before taking some of our belongings in hand and leading me up the stairs.