I heard it….. loud and clear.
My hand instantly flew to the mini stereo set that sat at the edge of the bathtub and turned off the music, then listened again.
But everything was now silent and calm.
“Lionel?” I called out, uncertainty drawing patterns above my face.
No answer.
“Baby? Lionel?” I called again, but the whole room was still….. too silent.
I knew I had heard it…… the shattering of plates and a thud.
I had heard something.
Should I be done with my bathing or go check immediately? Maybe it had been the beats from the music, I thought to myself.
But why wasn’t he answering?
That was the mistake I made.
I turned back the music and continued my luxury soaking, sipping my martini like it was the tastiest juice in the world.
But at the back of my head, I felt an uneasiness I couldn’t explain.
My hand gently went through my breast and that tingle flowed through my body….. I moaned.
“Lionel baby, come join me. I need you,” I yelled over the music.
No response!
Had he stepped out?
I giggled to myself as my fingers rolled over my cl*t.
I wanted fun, but I knew Lionel would feel so left out if I didn’t wait for him.
I rose up from the scented water….. watching the water cascade down my hourglass figure….. I stared at my image in the huge mirror that was naughtily placed in front of the tub.
I was a beautiful sculpture.
I grabbed the towel, then decided against it.
Lionel would appreciate the premium view he would get when he came back.
“A little show for him won’t hurt,” I snickered to myself as I dried my body carefully.
I smelt heavenly, I purred.
My fingers again went down….. deep down, and I moaned again.
I was so wet, and the thought of my hands rubbing through his muscles and hair as he nibbled on my nipple made me almost yell out in ecstasy.
I cleaned up again, but there was no stopping the fountain of goodness dripping down my legs.
I had to wait for Lionel.
But where had he gone?
I tiptoed out into the room but froze in my steps halfway.
The room was dark and all the lights were turned off.
“Lionel?” I called out again, but there wasn’t any sound at all.
My heart skipped a beat, pounding hard against my chest.
Not from fright….. but in excitement.
Could he have prepared a surprise for me?
I giggled audibly.
I tried to locate the switch, but my tiny toenie stormed into something hard and I squealed out in pain.
“The fuck! Fuck you, Lionel,” I cursed.
I groped and finally found the switch.
Flipping the lights on, I swerved the room.
My mouth turned dry as my hand flew to it.
There!
I had heard right.
There were broken plates and food chunks on the floor.
My pulse raced as my heart pumped more blood….. more blood than needed.
My eyelids flickered and my hands shook violently as I stared at the figure lying close to the side of the bed, a broken ceramic protruding from his chest…… blood drawing a large circle where he lay. His eyes wide open….. staring at me with a ghostly gaze.
Lionel!
“No… no, no, no!”
I stumbled back, my hands trembling.
Panic and fear gripped me.
The AC suddenly felt so chilly and the room almost freezing.
My head was spinning as thoughts ran through them, even though I couldn’t focus on a particular thing.
“Calm down, Liz…. calm down. There is no need to panic,” I said to myself as my stomach hurled, churning loudly as if I was going to burp.
I found my phone and tried to dial 911 but stopped.
Was this the right thing to do?
With unsteady steps, I wavered to the bar and poured myself a shot of vodka.
The alcohol hit hard and sharp.
I steadied myself by the table and poured one more shot.
Then I stared back at the body.
I had a dead man in the room that the hotel knew I was sharing with him.
There was no way I was going to be in trouble.
Calling the police was going to be a very bad idea.
I went back to him and checked for a pulse.
Just as I had suspected.
Nothing.
His body was still warm.
Had he had a heart attack?
No!
He wasn’t the type to have a heart attack.
He was young and strong.
Why would he have a heart attack?
I looked around for his phone.
I unlocked it. I knew his passcode.
I read through his messages.
There had been no upsetting messages.
No funny calls.
Had he eaten something?
Maybe I should call the police, I thought to myself again.
I walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress.
Hastily dressing up, my mind raced on what my next action was going to be.
I knew I loved Lionel, but not too much to go to prison or become a laughing stock because of him.
How would my parents look at me if they found out?
If the news got out.
Lionel Baron was a powerful and very wealthy man.
His death was sure to make the news, and everyone would definitely want to know who had been with him last.
The situation looked worse than his wild eyes that stared back at me.
My nerves began to jitter again and I pulled myself another shot before I dialed the only person who could help me.
“I’m fucked,” I said as she picked the call.
“Calmly tell me everything.”
“There is no time. I need a distraction to get the hell out of this hotel room,” I said.
“Why? What’s going on?” she asked, sounding very calm and collected.
I was furious.
I didn’t want to hear her robotic voice and definitely didn’t want to deal with her calm demeanor right now.
The drinks were the only thing keeping me from jumping through the window or fleeing down the stairs out of that hotel room.
“Everything. I…. can’t quite explain it, but I need to leave this room right now. I need to breathe. I may go crazy if I stay one more minute here,” I rapped out.
“Where is Lionel?” she asked.
Lionel? The sound of his name in her voice released it all.
The tears!
“Liz? Where is he?” she asked again.
“Here. He is here…. dead!” I sniffed.
A very long pause.
“You killed him?”
“Are you crazy? Have you lost your fucking mind?” I yelled.
“Don’t yell at me, Liz. It’s not like it’s a new thing. Girls your age do it these days. So what are you going to do now?”
“You think I would have called your sorry ass if I knew?” I screamed at her.
“You better not yell at me, young lady. I am seconds away from calling the police on you right now.” She paused as I caught my breath. “You owe me a lot of favours, Liz,” she said.
I could hear the sneer in her voice.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“One million dollars.”
“You must be high. I made a mistake calling you,” I said and ended the call.
The phone rang again.
“You better listen to me or I’m going to share this juicy news with every media outlet I know. Your lovely father would be so proud of his daughter. Don’t you think?” she said and cut the call.
I was shaking even more uncontrollably now.
I had panicked and called the wrong person.
How could she?
A knock rapped outside the door and I jumped.
“Who’s there?” My voice croaked.
“Room service,” came the reply.
“We are not done yet,” I replied hastily, pulling the huge duvet over the body on the floor.
“We can’t wait any longer, ma’am. It’s been hours,” the person outside the door replied.
“Well, come back in the next few minutes. We will be done then,” I snapped.
There was a long silence, then receding footsteps.
I had to get the hell out of there.
I peered out of the window again. It was a very risky jump and I wasn’t going to take that option.
His phone began to ring.
Wifey!
Oh Lord. I was doomed!
Another knock on the door.
“What is it?” I asked, irritated.
“The police. Open up, please. We would like to ask you some questions.”
How? Who?
I stared at the door, the option of flying out of the window becoming more appealing as the seconds ticked off.
“Open the door,” the voice sounded even more authoritative.
The phone rang again. Same caller!
What could you….. any of you have done in my situation?
A young mistress with her older lover on a luxurious vacation, then he dies right in the middle of the room.
What would you have done?
Thoughts of Lola and my father’s disappointed face flashed through my eyes.
Viviana’s sneering grin tormented me as I turned the key and let the police in.
I knew I had ruined my life….. just for a pleasure that wasn’t supposed to be mine to enjoy.
I stood motionlessly as the police officer moved his mouth….. asking me about something…… something about Lionel’s wife calling them about her husband not taking his calls since the previous day.
Something about who I was and why I was in his room.
And why had the receptionist told him that we had been checked in as Mr. and Mrs.?
Then his eyes drifted to the mess of broken plates on the floor and I couldn’t even stop him from moving into the suite, and of course he discovered the body.
I was still in a daze when he snapped the cuffs on my wrists and pulled me out of the room.
All I could say was…..
“Call me Lola.”