Only You by K.T. Quinn

5

Molly

The Day I Made A Friend

I spent the next morning exploring the hotel. It was five stories, and we were on the third floor. The ground floor was deserted. Nobody was behind the desk. All the lights in the lobby were on, though, which made it feel like everything was normal. If I tried hard, I could pretend that the staff was having a meeting and would return at any moment.

The front doors which exited into the plaza were locked, and there was no way to unlock them from the inside without a key. I could have easily broken a window, but I decided I wasn’t that stir-crazy.

Not yet, at least.

The restaurant was closed. I walked around inside, but the doors to the kitchen were locked. That was disappointing—I was hoping to find some real food to eat inside.

Adjacent to the restaurant was the hotel pool. It was an Olympic-length swimming pool, with five lanes and a diving board. Next to the pool were two big hot tubs. The bubbles came on when I flipped a switch. Too bad I didn’t bring a swimsuit.

The second floor boasted a lounge with two billiard tables and a pull-down screen for a projection TV. There was also a fully-stocked bar, though the bottles were behind locked cabinets.

“Now that’s a glass window I’m tempted to break,” I said out loud. “When I run out of wine.”

When I got back in the elevator, I noticed a phrase engraved in Italian next to the floor buttons. I translated them on my phone: Rooftop access - fifth floor.

I exited onto the fifth floor and walked around. I didn’t see any rooms marked with sticky-notes to indicate they were occupied by guests. There hadn’t been any on the other floors, either. That meant me and my neighbor were the only ones in the hotel. We had the whole place to ourselves.

I kind of felt like Kevin McCallister in Home Alone, except I couldn’t order a cheese pizza.

The rooftop access was in the stairwell. A ladder extended to a square metal hatch in the ceiling. But there was a padlock on the hatch, preventing me from opening it.

I returned to my hotel room and found a note waiting for me on the floor next to the dividing door.

Want some breakfast? I’m making omelets.

I wrote a reply and sent it over:

I thought you’d never ask! Trade you a bottle of breakfast wine?

I smelled cooked eggs before his reply came.

This food’s on the house. I’m Donovan, by the way.

Donovan. Sexy name alert. I wrote a reply:

I’m Molly. Sorry about the notes. I don’t think it’s safe to chat in person. I’m washing my hands after every note, too. Hope you’re doing the same.

A knock came on the door soon after. When I opened it, a plate was waiting in the partition containing a perfectly-shaped omelet. A delicious yellow half-circle of goodness.

The omelet had bits of bacon and onion inside, with a gooey, cheesy interior. When the plate was empty I wondered how I had wolfed it down so fast.

Another note appeared:

Texting is probably safer than passing notes. Here’s my number.

With nothing else to do, I crawled into bed and texted him.

Molly: Thanks for the omelet! It was delicious.

Donovan: I hope you’re not Jewish

Donovan: Wow, that sounds super anti-Semitic doesn’t it? I’m asking because of the bacon in the omelet. I forgot to ask if you had any food restrictions.

I grinned as I typed a reply:

Molly: Actually, I’m an Israeli vegan. I ate the onions and threw the rest in the garbage.

Donovan: Next time I’ll send over the whole onion by itself, and save us both some time.

Donovan: Do you accept food from every stranger you meet?

Molly: So far, only you.

Donovan: It could be poisoned.

Molly: Worth the risk. The smell of the food you were cooking was literally torturing me.

Donovan: You know, Hannibal Lecter lured his victims with food.

Donovan: He lived in Italy too!

Molly: Let’s talk about a more cheerful topic. This pandemic is crazy, right?

Donovan: It kind of feels like the beginning of a zombie apocalypse movie.

Molly: Did you just get here, like I did?

Donovan: I’m at the tail end of my trip. My flight home was grounded.

Molly: At least you got to see the city before the world ended! So far I’ve only seen the view from my balcony. Hopefully the lockdown ends in a few more days and things can get back to normal.

Donovan: I don’t mind it too much. I’m not in a rush to get back home.

Molly: You don’t have to get back for work?

Donovan: I’m kind of between jobs right now.

The talk of work reminded me that I should probably check in with my shop. I did the time change in my head, then called.

“Nellie’s Boutique, how can I help you?”

“Hey Andrea, it’s me.”

“Molly! Are you okay? I heard about the lockdown in Italy.”

“I’m fine, they have me staying in the hotel room. I’m sure everything will settle down in a few days. How’s the shop?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Same old, same old.”

“Busy?”

She hesitated before answering. “About as busy as it normally is.”

That meant it wasn’t busy at all.

“Do you think they’ll impose a lockdown here?” Andrea asked. “There haven’t been any cases in Indiana yet, but what if it spreads?”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I said. “Just focus on the shop and email me if you need anything. I don’t know when I’ll be home, but I’ll let you know if I find out.”

“Be safe! You’ll be in my prayers.”

I hung up. Business should have been booming right now as people bought new spring clothes. We had even increased our ad spend over the last two weeks. But if business was still slow…

We’ll be okay, I told myself. Mom always said the shop would be fine, even when things looked grim. I just needed to adopt her positive attitude.

Easier said than done while I was trapped in a hotel room on the other side of the world.

I read the text messages I had been swapping with Donovan. After a few days alone, it was so comforting to communicate with someone going through the same experience as me. I was picturing him as someone my own age. Maybe a blond with piercing blue eyes. But I hadn’t met him, and I had no idea what he looked like.

I wrote a few draft messages, deleted them, and re-wrote them. Finally I hit send.

Molly: Do you think it’s safe to have dinner on our balconies tonight?

Donovan: As long as we’re six feet apart, I think so. Everyone seems to agree outdoors is safer than indoors. Meet you out there at six?

Molly: I’ll bring the wine!

I dressed up like I was going out for a night on the town. A comfortable summer dress, with my good bra. The one that made my boobs look extra perky. I straightened my hair and spent half an hour putting makeup on in front of the mirror.

That’s when I realized what this felt like: a date. I was dressing up like I was going out with someone. But I didn’t know much about Donovan. For all I knew, he could be in his seventies. He did say he was between jobs. Maybe that was code for retired.

I put on heels, examined myself in the mirror, then kicked them off. Heels would be too much. We were eating on the hotel balcony, not the balcony of a fancy restaurant.

At five minutes to six, I carried a bottle of wine and two glasses outside. Our two balconies were separated by a three-foot gap, but it looked like we could pass food and wine back and forth. Plenty of space, and no mask required. I leaned over the balcony toward his side. His curtains were open, but I couldn’t see deep into his room because of the glare from the sun.

I rested my elbows on the railing and gazed out at the city. The plaza below us was still deserted. A stray newspaper blew across the cobblestones, disappearing down an alley next to a chocolate shop that was closed. Above that building was the top rim of the Colosseum, with the sun beginning to set behind it.

The door slid open on the balcony next to mine.

Donovan wasn’t in his seventies. He was about my age, with olive skin and dark features. He was tall, with broad shoulders beneath a polo shirt that accentuated his V-shaped torso and tapered waist. He had big hands, big enough to hold two bowls of pasta in one while he used the free hand to close the door behind him. He was wearing a blue medical mask, but above it his steel-grey eyes were sharp. I couldn’t see his mouth, but his eyes tightened in a smile.

Donovan is an absolute snack. We should have eaten outside before now. My heart fluttered at the sight of him.

Thanks to the mask, it took me a moment to recognize him.

When I did, my heart skipped a beat for a totally different reason.

Oh no, I thought. It’s him.