Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
It was a far cry from my childhood in a studio apartment in the hood with a single mother who worked three jobs just to make sure we had food, clothing, and shelter…most of the time.
Corinne stops in front of the old man and lays a soft hand on his shoulder. “Do you need help, sir? You look lost and… If I’m wrong, just tell me—”
“No, you’re not wrong,” he says in a voice gravelly with age. “I haven’t been this lost since my first trip to Paris back in the day, when I got off the plane and realized I couldn’t read any of the signs.”
Her laugh is light, and a smile looks really good on her. “That must have been a while ago.”
He grins. “June fourteenth, 1964. I landed at Orly—no Charles DeGaulle yet. The airport was chrome and yellow and seemed so huge. I’d graduated high school in small-town Wisconsin two days prior, and I was dying to see the world, starting with Paris. I had a backpack, a good buddy, a little money, and a travel guide. We spent three months on the Continent making our way from city to city, attraction to attraction, never worrying about getting lost. Now?” He laughs at himself. “My wife went to have a massage, and I can’t find my way back to our room. All these elevators look the same, but they don’t all go to every floor. My glasses…I think I need a new pair. I’d be grateful if you could help me.”
Through his story, her smile widens. “Of course. I would have loved to have seen Paris back then. How amazing!”
“It was something…” His smile says the times were good and the memories fond.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“None of this ‘sir’ business.” He shuffles his room key into the fingers curled around his cane, then sticks out his free hand. “Arthur Belmont.”
She shakes it like she’s genuinely delighted. “Hi, Arthur. I’m Corinne. If you’ll tell me your room number, we’ll get you to the right elevator. Or do you need help to your door?”
He flushes a little. “I might. Like the elevators, all these hallways look the same.”
“They do, but I think your glasses need a good cleaning. Do you mind?” She reaches for them.
“Go ahead.” He squints as she removes them, then sets them in his hand.
From her clutch, she takes out the case holding her sunglasses and withdraws a soft cloth, then polishes his lenses until they’re fingerprint free again. Afterward, she settles them back on his face. “Better?”
“Much. It’s not foggy here after all.” He laughs at himself.
“No. If you’ll tell me your room number, we’ll get you settled.”
Arthur murmurs the information and hands her his key. “Do you know where that is?”
“Since it’s not in my tower, I don’t. I just got here last night. But we’ll figure this out,” she promises.
I’ve heard enough. Since Parker’s pretty sister has decided to make assisting Arthur her good deed for the day, I’ll have to settle him before we can talk.
I approach the pair. “I can help.”
Corinne’s head snaps up. Her eyes widen. “What are you doing here?”
She’s too smart to be genuinely asking such a naive question, so I merely smile and address the old man. “Hi, Arthur. I’m Xavian, a friend of Corinne’s. Let’s see if we can find your room, okay?”
As he shakes my hand, he looks between us. “A friend, huh? Last time I had a ‘friend’ I looked at like she’s a delicious cupcake, I married her. That was fifty years ago.”
I laugh. He’s a nice old guy, and he’s clearly relishing the attention. It’s not a problem, except I’m here to grill Corinne. But…I’m also not opposed to extra time to gape at her in that figure-hugging dress.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I quip, plucking the card key from Corinne’s hand. “Follow me.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” she asks.
“I’m familiar with this hotel.”
She looks confused. “Even though you live on the island?”
I merely toss her a smile over my shoulder. “I’ve spent a few nights here.”
When my meaning sinks in, Corinne frowns, then takes Arthur’s arm, steadying him while they trail me to the correct bank of elevators. “Are you and your wife here on vacation?”
He answers with pride as he shuffles behind me. “We are. I promised her something special for our fiftieth wedding anniversary. She’s always wanted to come to Hawaii. Between working two jobs and raising six kids, we never had time or money for big vacations.” He laughs. “Now she says she never wants to go home.”
“Maui has that effect on people,” I tell him as we enter an open elevator. “What floor?”
Arthur shrugs. “I can tell you what the view from our balcony looks like. I guess I didn’t pay attention to how I got there. I’ve always been a little directionally challenged.”