As Annabeth entered the luscious hotel, she witnessed the array of activities that defined such a place. It was bustling with people-angry businessmen spoke in hushed voices on their cell phones, children bounded from the elevator dressed in expensive coordinating outfits bearing the names of famous designers, and couples excessively were sharing public displays of affection- to the point that Annabeth wanted to burst. There was a lingering fragrance of expensive perfume, the starched smell of new one hundred dollar bills, and the aroma of freshly pressed suits. The aromas caused Annabeth to remember the troubles she faced when these smells enveloped her life.
"My apologies ma'am, but your reservation appears to be for one room. Are you sure the correct reservation isn't under a different name?" the man behind the counter said handing her the single room key while he answered the phone that had not ceased ringing since Annabeth arrived. Reality began to flood her senses as she focused on the situation at hand, and she sighed deeply.
"Could you possibly check under Annabeth Chase?" She said patiently, trying not to let her annoyance seep into her words. Something was bound to go wrong, and this may as well be it. The situation had seemed all too perfect when Percy agreed to her preposterous plan; she was thoroughly convinced that there was no way that it could succeed gracefully.
"I'm terribly sorry, but there aren't any reservations under Annabeth Chase." The concierge replied mechanically, just as any man in his profession was expected to.
Internally, Annabeth scolded herself for panicking; she could simply book another room. It would be harder to act like Percy was her devout boyfriend whom she was deeply in love with if their rooms were across the hotel, but the trouble of distant rooms was better than showing up to Luke's extravagant wedding without a date. Annabeth knew she didn't have the confidence to face Luke alone, considering the fact that this was his wedding. "Is it possible to-"
"Hey, Annabeth!" Luke approached her, smiling while embracing her in his familiar arms. Annabeth's body immediately stiffened, recognizing the feeling and the memories associated with his touch, and she had to consciously stop herself from recoiling. "How are you?"
"I'm doing fine, Luke." Annabeth said politely. She feigned interest when she added, "How's Cassandra?" She hoped Luke didn't notice the way she spat out the name, trying to rid her mouth of the taste of a word that brought up so much hurt.
"Cassandra is great, but she's expecting me to meet her for dinner at five, and I am already running a bit late, but it was a pleasure to see you again!" He walked toward the hotel's restaurant, leaving Annabeth alone.
Turning her attention back to the man behind the polished countertop, Annabeth considered how she was going to fix the trouble of the lack of a second room. The concierge, or Baxter, as his nametag promptly stated, was busy chatting with an elderly couple, completely ignoring Annabeth's troubles. Before Annabeth could interrupt the collection of pinstripes that comprised Baxter, she was enveloped in a pair of muscular, tan arms that smelled vaguely of chlorine.
"Guess who?" a smoky voice behind her taunted-wait, smoky? The voice was deeper than what she had remembered, which was probably the fault of time. Annabeth jolted at the thought of his now raspy, deep voice and confident demeanor compared to his previously scrawny voice of a pipsqueak.
"You stink," Annabeth replied, poking the familiar body standing beside her. "C'mon, let's go upstairs, I have your room key. I don't want to put on the show out here for much longer." She turned around to look at him, and let her eyes really wander for the first time in years. Her stormy eyes met his sea green orbs, but her gaze fluttered away before she could acknowledge his. His skin was tan, darkened by the countless hours spent under the sun, in the water. His form was much taller than she remembered, and his shoulders were broader. Taking in his muscular arms, strong and sharp jawline, and slim figure, Annabeth realized he had developed tremendously from a scrawny boy into a- dare she say it- man. Puberty has obviously done Jackson well.
The silence of the elevator ride to his room was comfortable. The aroma of freshly shampooed carpet filled the elevator, which helped distract Annabeth from Percy's presence. Her senses seemed to heighten around him, and his scent enveloped her. Annabeth blamed it on the fact that she had not been around him in what felt like an eternity. He wasn't up to date with all the woes of her life, but sharing was an action Annabeth was not willing to partake in currently, and she knew Percy could tell. He gave her space, and for that Annabeth was grateful. There were things Annabeth didn't want to admit to herself, let alone a perceptive individual such as Perseus Jackson.