Fragile by A.K. Evans

One

Demi

Sixteen years later

“Hello. How can I help you?”

“I’m so sorry, but I forgot my key in the room. Is there any way you could make another one for me?”

I looked at the woman who had just walked through the sliding door that led into the lobby of the hotel I was the manager at. She had a tiny baby strapped to her chest in one of those baby swaddling things that were supposed to keep your hands free to do other things. Those things always freaked me out because, one time, I saw a father come in wearing one with his daughter who couldn’t have been even a year old in it, and it broke. The carrier had some plastic pieces that snapped, which caused the baby to fall. Luckily, the father caught her before she was hurt, but I’d always been wary of them any time I saw them after that.

Looking at the one this mother was using, I noted there was no plastic on it. It was all fabric, and it seemed to be fastened securely to her, so that put me at a bit more ease. On top of that, despite the carrier making it possible for her to be hands free, the mother was protectively cradling her baby anyway.

“Sure,” I answered. “Do you have your ID on you?”

“Oh, yes. Sure,” she replied.

Keeping one hand firmly on her baby’s body, she set her purse on the counter, dug through it, and pulled out her license. When she handed it to me, she said, “I wasn’t paying attention when we checked in. My husband might have put it under his name, which is the same last name, but we used my credit card.”

“Okay, no problem at all,” I told her. “Just give me one second.”

My eyes left the face of the woman who seemed slightly distressed and shifted to the computer. I wanted to ask her if she was okay, but on the occasions that I’d done that whenever I thought something was wrong, I always regretted it. In this situation, she was probably just frazzled, adjusting to life as a new mother. It was clear the baby was very newly born.

“Room 632?” I confirmed with her.

She nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

A moment later, I handed the ID back to her and said, “Here you go. I love your name, by the way. Is it pronounced Chasey?”

“Yep, that’s correct,” she responded. “And the connotation is correct. I’m always the one doing the chasing.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that and decided it was best to ignore it. I made up another key card for her room and held it out to her.

“You’re all set,” I declared.

Chasey took the key card from me, allowed her eyes to drift to my name tag, and said, “Thank you so much, Demi.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy the remainder of your stay.”

As she walked off, two hands back on her baby, I watched. That was something I did a lot of in my line of work.

Watching.

Observing.

And in most cases, hating every second of it.

I’d been working at this job for years now. I did it because it paid the bills and put food on the table. I didn’t do it because I loved it.

Having said that, I’d lost my drive for becoming anything noteworthy a long time ago. I couldn’t even remember a time when I had a dream about what I wanted to be when I grew up. So, naturally, I just took the days as they came and handled what needed to be handled. When this job opened up, I applied and got the position. It came with benefits and had a decent salary, so I couldn’t really complain about that.

But deep down, I despised working here. There were just too many things I saw that didn’t sit well with me. And as much as I wanted to jump in and say something in those instances, I managed to hold myself back.

Instead, I’d unload my frustrations on my best friend, Samantha and my cousin, Calvin. Sam also worked here, but she was the event sales director for the hotel. She handled all the weddings, corporate events, baby showers, and more. Cal was the owner of Granite, a relatively new bar here in the small town of Finch, New Hampshire. He handled serving drinks and lending a listening ear whenever Sam and I had a bad day.

Lately, I’d been having more and more of those days here.

For that reason, I was just about to head back into Sam’s office to see if she wanted to stop for a drink after work when Chasey rushed up to the desk. Her face was red with rage, but her eyes were filled with sadness and horror.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She shook her head and placed the key card back on the counter. “Thank you for your help,” she rasped. “I’m sorry I lied.”

I blinked in surprise, trying to figure out what was going on. “Lied?” I repeated.

Nodding, she explained, “I didn’t check into the hotel, but I saw my credit card was used here. My husband wasn’t home, so it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Oh no. No way was this happening.

“Chasey!” someone yelled out.

“Don’t you dare come near me, you piece of shit,” Chasey shouted in the direction she’d just come from, which was by the elevators.

My eyes followed hers, and they settled on a man who was wearing a pair of baggy underwear, a wifebeater tank top, and a pair of socks that went up to the middle of his shins.

See?

Lots of unsavory things to witness in this line of work.

“Wait,” the man begged. “We need to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I never want to speak to you again!”

As I stood there watching the scene unfold, unable to move, I realized Sam must have heard the commotion and come out of her office. I knew this because she walked up behind me and asked, “What’s going on?”

“This poor woman walked in here and told me she’d forgotten her room key,” I started. “She showed me her identification and credit card, so I made her another key for the room. As it turns out, she never checked in. She just realized that her credit card was being used at a hotel. The next thing I know, she’s down here yelling at him, and he’s not only panicking but also in some serious need of his clothes.”

Sam did not respond. Part of that was probably because she was just as riveted to the scene unfolding before us, but the other part was probably because she knew I was feeling very much on edge.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to cry.

This was beyond horrible.

Chasey was backing away from the man I now knew was her husband as he continued to approach.

Eventually she stopped, and so did he. The moment was tense, and though I knew people had walked into the lobby, I couldn’t take my eyes off of what was happening in front of me.

“You son of a bitch,” Chasey shouted. “I can’t believe you. While I’m at home struggling to take care of our five-week-old daughter on my own, my husband is here screwing some bimbo.”

I gasped.

Five weeks old.

This poor woman. Her beautiful little baby.

“He did not,” I seethed, unable to stop myself. “Tell me he did not do that.”

Chasey stood firmly rooted to the spot, her eyes pinned on her husband as she clutched her baby against her chest and confirmed, “He absolutely did.”

“Bastard,” I clipped.

“Baby, please,” her husband said as he took a step toward her. He had resorted to begging. It was evident, as ever, in the tone of his voice.

Begging or not, Chasey didn’t stand for it. She took a step back from him and demanded, “Don’t you ‘baby’ me. I just saw something that no wife, let alone a new mother, needs to see her husband doing. You just lost me, so I hope it was worth it.”

My heart was breaking by the second for her.

I could imagine how she must have felt. I never caught a boyfriend or a husband, but I caught my own father. I figured that had to give me some idea of what she was going through.

“I promise it was just sex,” he declared. “It didn’t mean anything. Please, Chasey, we’re a family.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she countered. “Just sex? Just sex?! Are you serious right now?”

“Chasey, baby, it’s been a long time,” he tried to reason with her.

A long time?

His wife just had a baby!

“I’m literally going to lose my mind,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure anyone heard me. I mean, in the midst of all that was going on, I was not the one who was at the center of attention.

“A long time?” Chasey repeated. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Aaron. I was put on pelvic rest for the last eight weeks of my pregnancy and then managed to push a baby out of my vagina just five weeks ago. I should be more understanding of everything you’ve been through over the last thirteen weeks. What was I thinking? How insensitive of me, during all of that, not to be concerned about you getting your dick wet.”

Fucking asshole.

I thought what I’d witnessed at the ripe age of fourteen was bad. Obviously, it was. I mean, I saw my father completely naked with his dick inside a woman who wasn’t my mother. But this? This was just a whole new level of disgusting. His wife couldn’t have sex because she was carrying his child and had a medical issue.

What a selfish prick.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I had been so caught up in what I was watching and the rage I felt on behalf of Chasey and her daughter that I hadn’t realized all the people who’d walked in the front door.

Beck Emerson, the man who played the keyboard and synthesizer for My Violent Heart, was standing beside Chasey.

My Violent Heart was the industrial rock band. Nobody compared to them. And now, not only was Beck in the hotel, but so were the remaining five members of the band: Cash Morris, Walker Rhodes, Holland Oates, Killian Scott, and Roscoe Perry. There were four other individuals with them who I assumed were managers, security, roadies, or a combination of the three.

Chasey’s jaw dropped open at the sight of Beck beside her. I couldn’t blame her. The man looked incredible. And considering everything she’d just witnessed—though I didn’t know exactly how bad it had been—she deserved to have a man that looked like Beck looking at her the way he was.

Beck didn’t seem the least bit fazed by her reaction. Instead, with a gentle voice, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

There was a moment of hesitation, but Chasey eventually shook her head. “No. I just found out my husband is cheating on me. Actually, correction. He’s now my soon-to-be ex-husband.”

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Beck offered. There was a devious look in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Hey!” Aaron shouted. “You can’t do that! I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

Beck looked in Aaron’s direction and ordered, “Shut up, dickwad. I’m talking to your wife.”

Chasey leaned toward Beck and reminded him, “Soon-to-be ex-wife.”

His lips twitched as he returned his attention to her and said, “Why don’t we go for a walk outside? You don’t need to be around this douchebag any longer, not when you’ve got this sweet little baby in your arms.”

I hated men. Hated them.

I thought they were nothing but lying, cheating, selfish individuals.

But in that moment, I loved Beck Emerson for what he did for Chasey.

Whether he was doing it for show or something else, I couldn’t say. It didn’t matter, though. He took that woman out of a horrible situation and gave her something so many women probably wished they’d have happen at a time like this.

The minute they’d exited the hotel through the sliding doors, I shifted my focus back to Aaron. He stood there, much like my father had, and allowed the harsh reality to smack him in the face.

He fucked up.

He fucked up so badly, and he knew he lost his family.

Too bad.

There was no excuse, none, for what he’d done. I hoped Chasey would stick to her guns and follow through on the divorce because I had no doubt that if she went back to him, Aaron would only cheat on her again.

As he walked back toward the elevator, I took in a deep breath and let it out.

This was too much drama for me, and I needed a major change.

Unfortunately, I was still here, and I needed to do my job.

I glanced up at the remaining members of the band standing in the lobby, and one caught my eye.

Cash Morris.

Fuck, the man was sex on a stick.

He was gorgeous, and he had a voice on him that could easily set panties ablaze.

That’s why he was the lead singer.

And right now, he was staring at me like he wanted to eat me up.

No thanks.

I’d give credit where it was due—he was hot and he could sing—but that’s about all he was getting from me.

Right. Time to get back to being professional.

Unfortunately, before I could say anything, Cash approached and shot me his megawatt smile as his eyes went to my nametag. “Hello, Demi Stokes. I’m Cash Morris.”

Do not react.

That look, that voice. It was, without a doubt, the reason why there was no shortage of women for him.

In a different life, one where I hadn’t been burned by the man I should have trusted the most, I might have fallen victim to that smile. Lucky for me, I got to see the truth of how men really are, and I’d never end up in a situation like my mother did or like Chasey just did.

No way.

Pulling off an almost impossible feat not to react, I ignored Cash’s flirtatious demeanor and replied, “Hi. I’m really sorry about what you just witnessed. That’s not a common occurrence. Well, the public fighting anyway. The cheating is more rampant than I care to admit. Anyway, how can I help you?”

Cash let out a laugh, and I swear it took everything in me to remain standing. Then he answered, “Aside from giving me your number, we’re going to need a couple of rooms.”

Cocky, self-assured, and convinced he could snag any woman he wanted.

Yep.

Cash was just the kind of guy I expected him to be.

Of course, there was no chance I’d ever give him what he was asking for even if he’d gone about it in a different way. But the simple fact was that he didn’t even try to put any effort into it. He simply assumed that because he was who he was he’d get what he wanted.

Well, not this time.

Deciding to be as pleasant as I could, I smiled at him before I said, “Rooms I can do. The phone number is not going to happen.”

The jerk didn’t even seem the least bit disappointed. He grinned at me. The asshole thought this was a game.

Then he pulled out his credit card and handed it over.

I took it from him and looked down at the computer in front of me. “How many rooms did you need?”

“Enough for ten of us,” he said. “We don’t mind sharing rooms if we have to as long as everyone has their own bed, but Holland gets a room to herself.”

That was surprising.

Holland was the only female in the band, so I was glad that they respected her enough to make sure she had her own space. I could only imagine what it would have been like for her if she had to share a room with any of the guys. I realize I didn’t know them at all, but I saw the way some guys lived, and gross would have been an understatement.

“Sure,” I replied.

For the next ten minutes or so, I worked on getting some rooms booked for Cash, his bandmates, and the rest of their crew. I handed out key cards and said, “Enjoy your stay.”

There was a round of gratitude tossed my way as they walked off. Once they were out of earshot, Cash said, “I’m definitely planning on enjoying my stay. It was nice to meet you, Demi. I’ll see you around.”

Smug.

So damn smug.

The man thought he was God’s gift to women.

Visually speaking, maybe he was. When it came to music and his voice, there was no doubt he’d been blessed.

But that was as far as it was going to go.

Because when it came to being humble, I wasn’t sure Cash even knew what that meant.

Once again, I did my best to remain professional and not react. I simply offered a smile and a nod, nothing to indicate that it was nice to meet him or that I was interested in seeing him around.

He seemed amused by my response and chuckled as he walked away toward the elevator.

The moment he was out of sight, I let out a huge sigh of relief.

If one thing was for certain, I needed a new job because this one was bound to do more damage than I could handle.

On that thought, I left the front desk in the capable hands of my staff and walked back to have a talk with my best friend.