Fairmont Motel

It was pouring rain that night when the woman turned the wheel of her car into the mud soaked parking lot of the run down motel. A half working neon sign blinked "vacancy," under another electric light that tried to spell out the words, "Fairmont Motel," without much success. She pushed the car into park by the dimly lit office and checked the glove compartment. The key to the trunk was there still, and the briefcase she was in charge of was still locked inside it. Clasping her wallet she straightened her tailored suit jacket and stepped out into the gloomy night.

The man behind the desk didn't even turn from his 13'' TV set when he heard the door open. It took the woman's insistent throat clearing to get his face to even slide to her direction. When he did catch a glance at her he shot to his feet. The woman was beautiful, despite her despicable mood and drenched appearance. About 5'8'', her form was long and lean, hidden by a black suit jacket, but with the rounded chest and full hips still noticeable as a powerful feminine presence.

"Well, yes ma'am, how can I help you?" he drawled coming forward, brushing the crumbs of his potato chips from the front of his dark blue t-shirt. He leaned against the front counter and looked her up and down, not even trying to hide his lingering on her breasts despite them being covered up by her button up dress shirt. "I'm sorry for the wait."

"I would like a room," she said dryly, regarding him much as one would regard an annoying gnat. "I will be here only one night."

"Well that's a shame," he said standing up straight, a leering smile on his lips. "But you are in luck, little lady. We have one room left. It has two queen size beds, HBO and the networks, and a few channels for the lonely, if you get my drift."

"Unfortunately, sir, I do."

The clerk seemed put out by her lack of interest in him, but shrugged it off and handed her a registration form, realizing that tonight was just not his night to get lucky. "$49.99 a night, single."

She whipped her hand over the registration form filling in only the most basic spaces as her other hand reached in her pocket and placed a $100 bill on the counter. The clerk had just turned to make change when the door opened again. This time it was a tall man, soaked through his trench coat and stomping his feet on the rug. The clerk looked up from the register as he was making change.

"Evening," he said gruffly.

"Hey," the man panted out of breath. "I'd like to get a room please."

"Sorry, buddy." He jerked a thumb to the woman at the counter. "She just got the last one."

"Are you serious?" he cried, shaking his head. "The roads are closed in both directions now."

This seemed to bring the woman back to the present. Spinning to the new visitor she narrowed her eyes, "What?"

"Yeah, both ways. I barely squeezed by the highway patrol and they said it was closed again another 15 miles up. I don't suppose there is another motel between here and there?"

"You're looking at it."

"That's what I was afraid of," he growled looking down at the floor with a sorrowful expression. The clerk shrugged a little and bobbed his head to the woman.

"She has a double room, she might be willing to share."

"Really?" he brightened.

The look the woman shot the clerk was as potent as any venom for a serpent. Taking a deep breath she did her best to put on a sympathetic face.

"I sympathize with your plight, sir, but I am in no mood for company tonight."

"Please," he smiled with charm, "its only one night. This is the only hotel available and we are both stuck here. So lets try and make the best of it."

"Why are you talking as if this is our problem?" she quipped, ignoring his charismatic demeanor. Inwardly she sighed to herself, if it was any other night than tonight, you might have a chance buddy, but this is not your lucky day. "I have booked the room, and I have paid for the room, and I don't have to share it with you."

"Fine," he said stepping forward to the counter. Turning smartly to the clerk he pulled out his wallet. "Whatever she paid for the room I will double it."

"What?" she cried.

"Hmm," the clerk nodded and walked closer. "Very interesting. Cash money?"

"All the way."

After a brief moments contemplation he slowly slid the registration form out from under her pen. "I'm sorry miss, I think we are all full tonight."

"Are you insane?" she spat. The clerk just smiled and shrugged jovially.

"What's a guy to do honey? Its just business."

The woman shook her head and pursed her lips, looking over the two men with a shake of the head. Whatever flash of attraction she had had to the handsome stranger, however small, when he entered, dissipated like warm water on a hot skillet.

"Fine," she hissed. "I will pay you triple."

"I'll make it four times."

"This is ridiculous," she snarled looking at the man beside her.

Nodding with a smile, he agreed. "Yes, it is."

"This can't go on all night."

"Sure it can, at least until one of us runs out of money, or you agree to let me stay with you, and I don't know about you, but I have plenty of cash to make this man happy."

A long tense silence filled the office. She had already stayed in here longer than she wanted to. The car couldn't be left unattended for so long.

"Fine fine, I will share with you. But be on your best behavior."

She clamped her hand down on the key and strode out.

A few minutes later the man came in the room with a tiny overnight bag, shutting the door behind him. The woman was across the way by the bed in the corner, tucking a briefcase under the bed frame. She looked up when he entered, but said nothing. There was a palpable air of anger seething in the room and there was no doubt who it was directed towards. He just nodded and set his things by the other bed.

"I really appreciate this," he smiled, trying to be kind. "It's a hell of a night for this to happen."

"On that you are correct," she said without looking up. She tossed her car keys and wallet on the ground beside her headboard.

The man shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the edge of the curtain rod to dry. "So, I guess we should introduce ourselves. I'm Tim."

He came over, his hand extended. She didn't turn an inch, instead busied herself with something preoccupying in her wallet.

"Romira," is all she said. Tim smiled hopefully and added, "Romira. That's a pretty name."

Silence fell across the room again and Tim who couldn't help but notice the hint, went back to his side of the space, with a sigh. After another few minutes of silence, and her tapping random buttons on her cell phone he couldn't stand it any more.

"Look," he said standing up, "I know I was prick earlier and I'm sorry. I tend to get a little out of control about things sometimes, but now we are here together, and we are stuck in this room pretty much, so maybe we could come to some kind of civility between us, just so we don't drive each other mad tonight."

Romira set her phone down on the bed and took a deep breath. It took a minute but she nodded and stood up to face him.

"Ok," she nodded, "ok. You're right. You were a prick."

In the silence that followed she tried not to let a grin cross her lips but ended up failing miserably. Tim burst out in ironic laughter when he saw the grin come out. She came around the bed and held her hand out.

"My name is Romira," she said again, this time with less reservation. Tim shook her hand strongly and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Romira."

"It has been ... interesting, meeting you, Tim."

The tension lifted slowly in the room and Tim kicked off his shoes and plopped on the tiny loveseat couch. He stretched his long legs out towards the little round dining table and set his heels along the edge. With a sigh he rolled his shoulders back. Romira was leaving someone a message on the phone, but her voice was hushed, and trying to give her some privacy he clicked on the TV and aimlessly wandered through the channels.

Romira was pretty at least, he thought. She hadn't taken her suit jacket off but he could see the outline of her shape in the suit, and her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail behind her head, showing off her long neck, giving him at least a good view for the night.

The sound of the phone clicking shut told him it was time to pretend to watch some more TV.

"So, where are you headed, Romira?" he asked as she pulled a knapsack from the edge of the bed.

"Chicago."

"From?"

"L.A."

"Hmm," he said with a nod.

"How about you, Tim?"

"The same," he replied shifting his feet so that one was crossed over the other. "Except I'm coming from Reno, not L.A."

She nodded and slid her phone across the dresser and set up her phone charger next to it.

Tim clicked the remote once more to another absent minded reality show, then with a grimace turned away. "I hate reality TV, don't you?"

"Oh yes," she nodded, fiddling with the phone which didn't seem to want to go down on the charger. "My life is real enough with out using someone else's for kick."

This made Tim chortle as he kept the channels moving. "What is it that you do?"

Romira looked over at him and smiled. "I'm a courier," she said. "And you?"

"Real estate," he smiled. "Commercial properties for the corporation I work for."

"I knew it had to be something in sales," she said sarcastically. "With a smile like that you had to be selling something."

She stepped to the makeshift closet, unbuttoning her suit jacket while he rambled on.

"I have to keep in practice," he defended. "Back there in the lobby, I wasn't trying to be an ass, just do the hard sell. Sometimes its like you have to try and sell ice to the Eski-"

His voice dropped off suddenly as she slid her jacket from her shoulders and started to hang it up on the hanger on the rack. Tim's eyes settled half way down her torso where strapped to her side was a gun in a holster. Romira noticed his silence and continued her work, eventually getting to slipping the holster off her shoulder and folding it neatly in her hand. When she turned to Tim her face was calm, but his was very set and serious.

"Is there something we need to talk about?" he asked slowly.

"You aren't afraid of guns, are you?" she asked walking back to the bed on her side.

"No," he shook his head. "It's just that I don't like them very much, and I'm not very comfortable when they are around."

Romira slipped the holster and the gun under the pillow and looked Tim directly in the eye. "Then I can trust you not to touch this one."

"You can count on it."

That seemed to be all the validation she needed, and she very casually walked to the end of the bed, sat down and began to unbutton her boots, as if there was nothing unusual at all. Wiggling in his seat a little bit, Tim spoke up,

"What exactly is it that you are a courier for, Romira?"

With the coyest of smiles she looked over her shoulder at him. "You should know from the situation that I can't tell you that, Tim."

"That's what I figured," he growled.

With a clap on her thighs she stood up and walked to where he sat. "I don't know about you," she said with a flirtatious smile, "but I am hungry. I know there is a pizza place about two miles back, and if they are trapped, they might as well make us a pizza. Yes?"

Despite the weather conditions, the pizza parlor was more than happy to send a driver out with a medium pepperoni and mushrooms and two six packs of beer from the mini mart for the $200 they decided to offer. It would seem since the roads were closed both ways the only business they were getting was from those trapped with them and every little bit helped.

They dined in their squalid little room on pizza and beer, whiling away the hours taking about L.A. and Chicago, what Tim liked about real estate and Romira carefully dodging any questions about her line of work. By the time dinner was over and about one six pack of beer down between them, they were certainly more comfortable with each other than they had been earlier. Tim was sprawled out on the love seat and Romira had propped her self up on the floor by the foot of the bed mattress. An old horror movie was on TV and with the lights out and a slight intoxication befalling both of them, they were completely enraptured.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder broke the silence making them both jump. They turned to each other and started to laugh.

"Whoa," Tim breathed with a smile, leaning over to peer out the window with two fingers. "Jesus, its really coming down out there."

"Yeah?" she asked with concern. Getting up she walked over to his place by the window and leaned over him, pushing the curtain back farther. "Shit," she muttered. "If this keeps up I will never make Chicago on time."

"You think?"

Tim meaning to just look up at her, stopped himself just short of planting his face firmly in her right breast. He held perfectly still, breath caught in his throat. Her shirt was clinging to her breasts, accentuating their full curves, tight and pulling down with their gravity.

"If the roads don't open then I will have a hell of a time trying to get there, that's for certain," she mused, still staring out at the bleak weather.

Romira was wearing some kind of floral scent that was filling his nostrils deliciously. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes unconsciously.

"Is your package perishable," he asked calmly.

"No," she shook her head. "But it is time sensitive."

With a sigh she pushed herself up and out of his reach, much to his disappointment. When she was about halfway up and noticed just where her bosom had been so perilously hanging and laughed nervously.

"Oh, sorry!" she gasped. "I didn't realize where I was."

"It quite alright," Tim smiled, readjusting himself in the couch. He looked at her for a moment longer than he should of, a smile that lasted a bit too long. Romira huffed and sat down on the bed. Pursing her lips she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

"Well it was bound to happen sometime," she muttered.

Tim narrowed his eyes defensively. "What was bound to happen?"

Romira sighed and crossed her legs, leaning back, her arms supporting her on the bed. "Sexual tension."

Tim laughed and shook his head. "Come on, Romira, we are both adults. I think we can restrain ourselves."

"I wasn't talking about restraint. I was just talking about the tension. Its normal that when two people, two attractive people I should say, are stuck together in a small space that the tension would arise."

"Well, I appreciate the compliment," he said tucking one leg up under him, "but I don't think you are giving me enough credit here. It was your breast that was thrust upon my face, not the other way around."

Romira snorted. "Like you weren't looking at them before."

"Give me a break," he cried. "Lady you are crazy. I haven't looked at your breasts this whole night."

The woman shifted slightly on the bed and gave him a wicked smile. "Then why do you have an erection?" she asked.

Tim blinked his eyes rapidly and started to shake his head, when he flashed a glance at his trousers and noticed more of a bulge than there should be. With a weary sigh he crossed his legs, turned away from her and rubbed his face slowly, staring blankly at the TV. As soon as she saw his reaction, she was sorry she had said what she did. She had only meant to tease him, not embarrass him.

After a long moment, she said, "I'm sorry."

"No, no," he waved his hand, still not looking at her. "You were right. I should be sorry. I forgot how compromising a situation this might be for a woman, being alone with a strange man."

Romira laughed and sat up a little. "Tim," she chuckled, "I'm the one with the gun."

Her statement brought only the slightest of grins to his face, but it was a saddened one. Taking a deep breath he nodded to himself more than her, and suddenly stood up.

"I should go."

"What?" she frowned. "Go where? Its pouring outside."

"To the car," he said gathering up his jacket and pulling a blanket off the bed. "I shouldn't have forced you into sharing. I didn't even think that this might not be ... right. I'm just going to go sleep in the car, and I'm going to leave my stuff here so I can shower in the morning."

Romira stood up and tried to make him see reason. "You cannot go sleep in your car. Its freezing."

"I'll be fine," he half smiled. "Just let me in when morning comes to shower, ok?"

"Tim, please."

"Good night, Romira," he said as he opened the door. "Have a good rest."

And then he was gone.

Romira stared at the door for a long time, trying to process what had just happened. How had that all happened so fast? She had offended him, embarrassed him, and now he was the one sleeping in the car. She plopped down on the bed and looked at the time. 9:47 pm. They hadn't even been in the room 3 hours and she had already run him off. Shaking her head, she stood up and headed for the shower. Nothing more to do than sleep.

It took a while in the car, but Tim finally found a comfortable spot in the back seat, though the armrest of the door was a pitiful pillow, and his legs were cramped in an angle surely no humans was meant to be for very long. Romira had been right; it was freezing, but the blanket took off some of the chill, enough for him to doze at least.

It had taken almost half an hour to stop thinking about what an ass he had been. Gun or not, a single woman forced to share a hotel room with a man she didn't know wasn't exactly kosher. It had seemed funny in the beginning, the lobby, the pizza and beer, but the truth was he was attracted to her, and it showed, not just in his body, but in his mannerisms and speech. And she was probably attracted to him; she had let her guard down a lot in the past 3 hours, but it didn't mean she wanted an advance, or a reminder that a six foot tall man she didn't know was sitting with an erection five feet away.

In the dark of the car, the pitiful lights of the hotel's one story walkway, shimmering a 60 watt light through a drenched windshield, he realized he should have just taken this option first. Eventually, despite the thunder, and the rain pounding over head, he fell into a light, but fitful sleep.

He wasn't sure when he heard footsteps approach the car. They were cautious steps, creeping up. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Whoever it was could see him, but with as slow as they were going he knew it had to be either a cop or a burglar. Trying to pretend to be asleep, he felt them stand by the window and peer inside, blocking out some of the light in the car. Long moments of silence passed, until he finally heard a sharp rapping on the window.

A cop. He knew it. Damn, he thought, a ticket after everything else. He decided to pretend he was asleep and ignore it. The knock came again. Screw it, he thought, just take the ticket and be done with it. Sitting up he stared at the outline and shook his head. Opening the door slightly, he stared in shock at the face of Romira, drenched and apologetic looking down at him, wearing her black pants and thin white tank top, head wrapped in towel from the room to keep off the rain.

"What are you doing here?" he said scooting closer. "You are getting soaked."

"I know, so let me in you uncultured jerk."

Tim seemed shocked but for some reason slid back to the other side and Romira slid in with him, giving the door a firm slam and exhaling loudly. She said nothing, seeming to be right at home in the back seat of the car. Without saying a word she dried her face and hands with the soaked towel as best she could and started to look around the car.

Tim watched her for a few minutes before he blurted, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Romira reached for part of his blanket and tugged it towards her. "I think its ridiculous for you to sleep out here. I think you are doing it because I embarrassed you when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry about that, but if you won't come inside, then.... I'm just going to have to sleep out here."