Chapter 7: Day Two

           Mallory awoke somewhat disoriented. She wasn’t in her bed. She was in the hotel in Smithberg. She glanced over to the other queen bed. Stevie was there. Good.

She began to remember the events of the evening, although they got muddier toward the end. There was a little knife in the back of her head when she sat up, but some black coffee would fix that. She had found that quality tequila was the only hard liquor that didn’t give her a hangover.

Normally the girls would head immediately downstairs for their free continental breakfast, regardless of their morning appearance. But this time they risked bumping into one of the members of Mad Ben Stan. That is, the band they hung out with last night. It was unreal. So instead they quickly showered and made themselves presentable before visiting the now picked-over mini buffet.

Their precautions turned out to be in vain however, as they didn’t run into anyone they knew. It quickly became clear why. The lobby of the hotel was crawling with people, mostly women, who the girls assumed probably weren’t guests of the hotel. There were a few nerds, a few geeks, but mostly plasticated women of varying ages all done up and looking for the band. And there was a good chance that none of those women had tickets to the show or even the slightest interest in Mad Ben Stan. Celebrities were in town and they clearly had their minds set on getting whatever they could.

Not wanting to eat with the crowd Mallory and Stevie stepped back onto the elevator, balancing tiny Styrofoam plates of food and cups of coffee. At the second floor they were joined by a short, old man with a maintenance cart.

“Goin’ to the concert?” He spoke with a smile and stared straight at the elevator doors as they closed.

“Yes,” Stevie replied. She shot a wide-eyed glance at Mallory who was trying not to laugh out loud.

“He’s in room A12.” It was obvious he meant Ben Stanovich. The man gave up this top-secret information without a bit of coaxing. Stevie slapped her hands over her ears. They didn’t want to know what room he was in. They weren’t stalkers. Why did he tell them that?

Finally they were at their floor. The old man stayed on the elevator as they exited.

“Have fun,” he shouted between the closing doors.

“Holy crap,” cried Stevie. “Why would he tell us that? Does he tell everybody that? Wouldn’t he get fired?”

“They wouldn’t fire a guy who’s a hundred years old. We just know now what floor to avoid.”

After a carb-heavy breakfast Stevie wanted to find the gym. Fitness was her new obsession. Mallory wasn’t as enthusiastic.

“Come down if you want to, then,” Stevie told her.

Mallory decided instead to explore the hotel. She loved hotels, loved the sounds and the pool smell that lingered in every hotel lobby. But with the celebrity-seekers lingering she couldn’t sit and relax like she wanted to. She couldn’t even wander without looking like a stalker. Her only other option was to watch Stevie work out at the gym. Maybe she’d even step on the treadmill for a few minutes.

The desk clerk gave Mallory a series of confusing directions to the gym, beginning at a locked door. She used her room key to enter and tried to remember the maze that had been described. She passed the pool. Okay, she’d said it was after the pool. But then it wasn’t. Suddenly she found herself at a dead end, a hallway with rooms and a fire exit. When she turned to her left and saw the room number she panicked. A12- Ben Stanovich’s room. Crap.

She didn’t mean to come down this way. She had to get out fast. If anyone caught her there they’d definitely think she was stalking him. She looked around frantically. Screw the gym. She was just going to go back to her room and wait for Stevie.

But when she had retreated only a few feet she heard the familiar click of a door handle. And then the door opened. Ben’s door. He stepped out in a fluffy, white robe and caught her there. She was looking back over her shoulder at him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” Mallory squeaked. He just smiled. Crap. Oh, crap. “I was just looking for the gym.”

“It’s right down here.” Ben pointed past her. He had an amused grin on his face as he led her only a few doors down to a glass door marked GYM in big, bold letters. Inside she could see Stevie peddling away, her back to them.

It mortified her to think that Ben didn’t buy her story. Her intentions were pure, but how could she tell him that? She wasn’t even dressed for a workout. And over-explaining would just make her sound guilty. So she muttered a “thank you” and reached for the door.

“It’s Mallory, right?” He was no longer smirking. The subject was changed. Everything was fine.

Mallory nodded. She was impressed that he remembered her name. Maybe he was just good at remembering names. Probably.

“This is your second show, huh?” How did he know? “I guess you’re a fan now.”

She began to protest, to tell him she’d always liked his music. But he grinned from ear to ear. He could see right through her. So she closed her mouth tightly and smiled sheepishly.

“I guess I’m a fan. But I’m not a stalker. I really was looking for the gym. See,” she pointed through the door, “there’s my friend.”

He threw his head back and laughed heartily. He was so tall and Mallory noticed how good he smelled. As a man, not a rock star, standing here in a borrowed robe, having a casual conversation, he was quite handsome and quite charming. Mallory scolded herself again for thinking that way about Stevie’s life-long crush.

“So I’ll see you later.” He said it almost as a question, but also as a fact. But what did he mean by it? He would see her in the crowd at his concert? She doubted it. He would see her after the show? Where? When? Why was he so damned vague?

“Right. Enjoy your swim.” She looked down at his robe and then quickly back up to his eyes. “Or whatever.”

Ben winked and pulled the gym door open for her. Inside Stevie had her ear buds in and was totally oblivious to the scene. Mallory tapped her vigorously on the shoulder and, speaking a thousand miles a minute, related the whole story to her in fine detail.