C2 The Dreaded 'Morning After'

And, away we go … inside the Presidential Suite, a recently dumped; totally passed out drunk and reeking of booze; naked Melinda, is unceremoniously tangled within the sheets, and strewn about in a most unladylike of fashion atop the king-size bed … talk about the start to a perfect day.

It’s way beyond the hotel’s official checkout time; but, due to the extenuating circumstances, that usual predetermined time doesn’t apply now … and, Melinda is groggily awakening.

“Ow … my head,” are her first raspy words spoken through the inevitable cotton-mouth after a night of imbibing; while midst the painful throbbing in her skull, she’s foggily thinking…

Good grief, Dad; how can you stand to do this every day?

And, when she finally manages to sit up and force her eyes open; seeing her unfamiliar, albeit luxurious, surroundings …

“Where the heck am I?” And then, when she looks down and notices the state that she’s currently in …

“And, where the heck are my clothes?!”

She nervously looks around the spacious, elegantly furnished room; but, doesn’t see signs of anyone.

“Hey, Shel; you here? Where are you?”

At first, she thinks that maybe Shelby got them this room because they were too wasted to get home last night. But, after another scanning of the bedroom, Melinda realizes that, even with her employee discount, these accommodations would still be way out of Shelby’s price range; and, she’s becoming even more nervous.

“Shel, you here … come out now; this isn’t funny anymore. Shel?”

Melinda secures the top sheet around her body, and sits up at the side of the bed; and, soon notices a very expensive looking … men’s?! … gold Rolex sitting behind the lamp on the nightstand.

She starts panicking; as she thinks…

Okay; we’ve just gone from Def-con 3 to Def-con 4! … Damn it; why can’t I remember what happened last night? … And, where the heck are my clothes?!

Suddenly, the bedroom door opens, and in walks a stranger; and, not just any stranger, but, the epitome of a ‘tall, dark, and handsome stranger’ … majestically attired within a well-fitting, tailored to order, three-piece Armani suit; along with an expensive designer shirt and tie; and, an even more expensive pair of Italian designer leather shoes.

Melinda immediately thinks…

Wow! Now, this room is definitely in this guy’s price range.

With a stoic expression upon his countenance...

“So; you’re awake now.”

With just a hint of flippancy in her inflection...

“Well; obviously.”

He begins to head over towards her; and, Melinda instinctively crosses her arms across her chest, and makes sure to hold the sheet more securely to her body.

Now standing directly beside her, he glances down at her; delivers a seemingly judgmental, half-grin with an accompanying low muttered “sheesh”; then, retrieves the watch on the nightstand.

“I missed this.”

Melinda noticed when he was reaching for the watch, he’s already wearing a Black Quartz, Swiss Chrono watch; and, she thinks…

Seriously, even if they are fine, expensive, designer watches; wearing two watches at the same time is still a tacky fashion statement. … And; why is he just standing here, looking at me now?”

He’s staring down at her, still displaying a stoic expression; which makes it hard for Melinda to read his thoughts … not that she’s very good at reading peoples’ thoughts by their facial expressions, anyway.

Shortly, he slowly puts his hand into his suit jacket, reaching inside of it; and, Melinda frantically jumps back into the bed, with her back pressed up against the headboard, trembling as she thinks…

Oh my, God; he’s gonna shoot me!

And, before she can even force herself to react and defend herself; he’s already managed to pull out his … checkbook?

Once again, he’s staring down at her, this time looking … as Melinda perceives it … as if he were trying to size her up; then, fills out a check, tears it out, and hands it to her … immediately followed with a curt …

“This should be enough.”

Melinda thinks…

Should be enough? Enough for what? … Don’t tell me this guy wants me to go and pay for the room. What; does he think I’m his personal assistant, or something?

Then, she looks down at the check; and, her jaw drops…

$500,000! … What the …? Crap…this guy doesn’t think I’m a personal assistant … he thinks I’m some sort of overly high-priced, call girl! … Asshole! I wished he would’ve shot me; because, that would have been less painful than this slap in the face!

Highly insulted and fuming, all Melinda manages to do is ask...

“What’s this?”

“A check.”

“Duh; I see it’s a check … what’s this for?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it was obvious now; would I?”

“It’s to make sure you don’t to tell anyone about what happened here.”

“So … it’s ‘hush’ money, then?”

“Good; you seem to be comprehending things now. … By the way, you can fill in the Pay to the Order line yourself … I don’t know your name; nor, do I want to know it.”

“Fine, whatever; I don’t want to know your name either. … So; this money was only meant for me to be quiet … and, not pay for ...”

She momentarily falters, not believing what the next words out of her mouth are going to be; and then, sheepishly finishes...

“Having sex with me?”

All of a sudden, that same half-grin that appeared earlier when he was next to her by the bed, emerges on his visage.

“Do you honestly believe that having sex with you would be worth that much?”

He heads for the door to leave the room; and, a seething Melinda shouts out …

“Hey; asshole!”

He turns around, seemingly unfazed by her sudden outburst, displaying that same stoic expression.

Melinda angrily stomps over, stopping mere inches in front of him; then, waves the check a few times in his face before she rips it into pieces in front of his eyes. She defiantly glares at him while gloatingly smirking; feeling proud that she has just vindicated her dignity.

“What do you think about that; rich boy?!”

Still unfazed, bearing that now annoyingly stoic expression...

“It was your check; you could do whatever you want with it. … But, just so you know, that was the only check I was planning on writing out to you … so, no need to come looking for me in the future for another one.”

And, with that being said, he leaves. An utterly enraged Melinda shouts out at the top of her lungs …

“All men are assholes!!”

After venting away most of her anger with that one shouted out declaration; a now miserably, dejected Melinda leans up against the bedroom door, and thinks…

Where the heck are my clothes?

Moments later, down in the hotel’s underground parking garage, the chauffeur opens the limousine’s rear passenger door for him; but, before entering...

He angrily throws the watch in at the dozing; donned in casual, designer clothing that’s currently slovenly unkempt due to all the wrinkling; reeking of alcohol, backseat passenger … which, abruptly startles him from his impromptu siesta.

“Hey, what the …” He looks down and sees the watch in his lap; then, he smiles while putting it on his wrist. “Come back to papa. … Thanks; Ed.”

Edward Bromley, CEO of Bromley Holdings LCC, instructs the chauffeur...

“Albert, take us over to corporate headquarters; I don’t want Grandmother to see him like this …” he reproachfully glares at the passenger, “… yet, again.”

The chauffeur nods; and, Edward enters the limousine.

“What’s up with you; man?”

Now, armed with an animated face capable of expressing a range of emotions … usually those covering from total disappointment to fed up frustration when it comes to dealing with this one … he sternly scowls …

“What’s up with me? I’ll tell you what’s up with me … I’m getting tired of cleaning up your messes; Chad.”

Chad jocosely quips, “Come on, Ed; that’s what big brothers are supposed to be there for … to bail out their little brothers.”

“Alright; first of all, my name is Edward … not Ed.”

Chad quickly retorts, “I use to call you Ed all the time when we were kids; and, you never had a problem with it then. So, why …”

“That’s my point. We’re not kids anymore; Chad. … Look; I was okay with … ‘bailing you out’ as you put it … when you were back in high school. And; I even put up with it during your college days.

But, for Christ’s sake, Chad; you’re the General Manager of the Bromley Crown Royal Hotel … our premiere flagship luxury hotel for the entire chain … how could you be so stupid as to do something like that; here of all places?!”

Edward takes a moment to recompose himself before continuing …

“Haven’t you ever heard of that old saying ‘you shouldn’t shit where you eat’; that’s what you were doing last night, Chad … you were shitting where you eat.”

Picking the most inopportune time to try to be funny; Chad foolishly attempts his hand at some sophomoric levity.

“Well … they say that pigs shit where they eat … and, I’ve had plenty of women say that I was a pig … so, I guess last night was just me keeping in character.”

Chad follows that up by displaying a stupid, goofy grin; which winds up irritating Edward more than that ludicrous pig analogy of his. He calls out …

“Albert … stop the car.”

As Albert pulls the limousine over; Chad asks...

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

When the vehicle stops, Edward flings open the passenger door; and, without even looking at his brother, emphatically states...

“Get out.”

A confounded Chad tries to ask, “But; wh ….”

“I said, get out.”

Chad dawdles out of the limousine, hoping that Edward will change his mind and allow him to stay … but, he doesn’t. And now, standing by the curb, in an obvious beseeching manner, Chad asks …

“If you don’t let me ride with you; how am I supposed to get home?”

Evoking a deadpan countenance, Edward wryly tells him...

“You’re a pig; right? Well, then; trot your way on home.”

Edward closes the door, and, the limousine pulls away; leaving a clearly more hungover than repentant Chad stranded by the side of the road.

Back at the hotel ... Melinda had finally found her clothes; and, is starting to get dressed after having taken a shower, when her cellphone rings.

She looks at the caller ID … Shelby…thank God! …and, frantically answers …

“Shel; where are you?! Why did you leave …”

Shelby, who had woken up earlier finding herself in somewhat of the same predicament as Melinda, cuts in to remorsefully apologize...

“Mel, I’m so sorry about that … really, truly; you got to believe me. Please forgive me …please.”

Happily relieved that Shelby had finally contacted her … and, being how they’ve been best friends since their days as finger painting comrades back in Mrs. Shoski’s K-3 classroom … Melinda has no problem forgiving Shelby.

Besides; Melinda is angrier more with herself than with anyone else … except maybe the asshole who tried offering her a check to keep quiet … and, also maybe that douche bag who dumped her for the blonde bimbo with the big boobs … let’s face it, at this moment, all men in general. But, after that; she’s angriest with herself for allowing that to happen.

“It’s okay; I forgive you. … Hey; are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mel; what about you … are you okay?”

With little conviction in her inflection; Melinda unconvincingly replies...

“Yeah … I’m good.”

“Are you sure? … Mel; you don’t sound alright to me … what’s wrong?”

“It’s okay … I’m okay… really. … Forget about it … hey; what happened to you last night?”

Shelby shamefully admits...

“Mel, I know you might find this hard to believe; but, I swear it’s the truth … I honestly can’t remember a thing.

I mean, I remember hanging out with you at the bar last night, drinking up a storm and having fun; just us girls … but, other than that, my mind’s a total blank after that.”

Having her memory totally failing her as well, Melinda tells Shelby...

“Yeah; I can relate.”

“Wait … you, too? You can’t remember anything, either? Shit … I was kind of relying on you to fill me in.”

“Sorry.” Melinda takes a moment to gather up her nerve; then, she hesitantly confesses to Shelby …

“Hey; Shel … even though I can’t remember anything, yet … I think I may have … I think I …”

Melinda becomes silent.

“You think you what, Mel; what’s wrong?”

Melinda sheepishly tells her...

“I think I … slept with a man. Actually; more than slept … when I woke up I was naked in bed … and, I’m kinda feeling really sore down … well, you know where; so, please don’t make me say it. … Oh God, I’m so embarrassed.”

For a moment, there’s total silence over the phone; and, Melinda is wondering if they got disconnected.

“Hey, Shel; you still there? Hello?”

All of a sudden; there’s a loud shriek of bursting excitement being resonating through her phone …

“Yes! Yay! My girl finally got her cherry popped! Wahoo!!”

When it comes to tales from the boudoir, Shelby always becomes eagerly enthralled by the subject; and, over the years, has become heavily vested in the status of Melinda’s virginity for some reason.

So; hearing this news from Melinda was like music to her ears. Shelby, being half-congratulatory, half-teasing, exalts...

“Finally … welcome to the club; slut!”

Melinda vehemently rebuffs, “Shel … I’m not a slut!”

Shelby playfully taunts...

“Oh no; then what would you call a twenty four-year-old, virgin who gets wasted and wakes up naked in bed the next morning with no clue of what happened the night before?...

Oh … and, let’s not forget … says that she’s hurting down you know where.”

Melinda shamefully lowers her head, and slowly shakes it side to side, as she groans with a self-reproaching inflection...

“Oh my, God; I am a slut … aren’t I?”

Shelby gets one last ribbing in...

“Yes, you are; my dear. Now, be sure to wear that badge of dishonor with pride.”

Then, she lets her off the hook; and, tries to console her by admitting...

“Actually; we’re kind of in the same boat.”

“Wait … what? Don’t tell me, you …”

Sounding a little too proud under the circumstances, “… guilty as charged.”

Oddly enough, Melinda is starting to feel a little better about herself now knowing that she wasn’t the only harlot of the two. She quips …

“Well, seeing how we’re both members in the same club; think you can come back to the hotel and pick me up?”

A flabbergasted Shelby informs Melinda...

“Come back … Mel … I’m still here at the hotel, too.”

An equally flabbergasted Melinda responds...

“Okay … meet you down in the lobby in ten minutes then, I guess?”