Megan parked close to the Stoneleigh, glancing about as she exited the car.
Reassured by the lack of any overt police or FBI presence, she slid the strap of her bag over one shoulder and strode toward the hotel entrance. Walking as though she were the heiress who owned the place, she entered the nearest elevator and rode to the fourth floor. Stepping out into the deserted hallway, she could hear faint noises coming from around the corner to her left.
Her heart soared when a quick peek revealed a cart loaded with linens and cleaning supplies. She nearly jogged to room 419. If Aaron wasn't alone, all her planning would be wasted effort. She pressed her ear to the door. All she could hear was what sounded like a shower running. It didn't necessarily mean that he was alone, but if he was…if he was in a vulnerable position, naked in the bathroom…he might be more amenable to doing as he was told, to providing what she wanted.
Megan's adrenalin shot up several notches.
Stepping back from the door, she felt almost preternaturally aware of everything around her. It was a skill developed by pandering to the fantasies of some of her clients. This wouldn't be the first time she'd undressed in a public hallway, risking discovery.
The coast was clear. The only noises the faint, sporadic sounds of routine maintenance coming from around the corner and down the hall. She didn't know if it was someone remedying the imaginary towel-deficit of room 423, but it didn't matter. Get going, Meggie! This is the chance you've been hoping for!
Her movements were smooth, efficient. She skimmed her dress off, bundling it into her bag as she pulled out the fluffy, terry towel she'd brought. Sandals followed. She wrapped the towel around her body, all the while congratulating herself on having the forethought to wear a strapless bra. Securing the towel, she ran hands through her hair, mussing it before catching it up into a haphazard ponytail with an elastic band fished from her purse.
The sounds of a running shower were still coming from Aaron's room. With no time to waste, Megan pushed her bag out of sight behind one of the enormous potted palms gracing the Stoneleigh's halls. She didn't have to fake the slightly panicked shortness of breath as she dashed down the hall to where the housekeeper's cart stood lonely sentinel in the otherwise deserted corridor.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
The only thing Sandy Messina didn't like about her summer job was the monotony.
She'd jumped at the opening for a maid in the elegant, borderline-historic Stoneleigh. And, all in all, it was fine. She made an acceptable wage and sometimes guests left her tips; discreet, little piles of bills left on a dresser or a pillow upon checkout. The work wasn't backbreaking for someone her age.
But the boredom was beginning to get to her. She was finding ways to combat it. The ipod strapped to her maid's uniform belt and the earbuds helped. Still, the routine of dusting, vacuuming and restocking bathroom courtesy supplies wasn't exactly an engrossing occupation.
But I'll make enough for books and lab fees next fall. That's all that matters. So, suck it up, Sandy-girl. You're lucky to have this.
She was wholly unprepared for the pounding, panting appearance of a woman who, to all outward appearances, was naked except for the towel clutched in embarrassed desperation around her body.
Sandy actually felt the floor vibrating with the poor thing's approach; she was running full out, eyes pleading and a little wild around the edges.
The maid yanked her earbuds out in time to catch the panicked entreaties for help from this guest who'd locked herself out of her room.
"Please! Before anyone sees me! PLEASE!" Megan made a grab for the maid's wrist, pulling her along for a few steps until the girl grasped the situation and hurried along on her own, matching pace with the guest who kept up a steady stream of nervous chatter as they sped along the hall, ending up before the door to room 419.
"I was just about to step into the shower and I thought I heard someone knock, so I came out to see and when there was no one there, I stepped out…just for a second!...to look both ways…just to be sure!...and…and…the door closed!" The woman made the door's action sound like the ultimate betrayal, on a par with Judas or Benedict Arnold. "Oh, God, I'm so glad you're here. I don't know what I would have done!" She pushed the maid toward the offending portal. "Please! Let me in!"
Sandy could hear the shower running. It gave credence to the guest's claims, although she didn't have any reason to doubt the story in the first place.
Things like that happened. People got caught in compromising situations.
A little breathless herself, Sandy used her master key and unlocked the door.
Megan slipped inside, gasping with relief and gratitude. "Ohhhh…thank you! Thank you…I won't forget this…Thank you…"
The door snapped to with a soft click. Sandy blinked, and finally reacted. Smiling and giggling to herself, she returned to the room she'd been cleaning.
It wasn't much, but it had been a break in the monotony. And it would be a mildly humorous story to share with her family tonight across the dinner table.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Megan waited until the maid's chuckling and amused murmurs faded to silence.
With the speed of a striking snake, she retrieved her bag from its hiding place in the hall. Within minutes, she was dressed, combed and composed.
She pulled the bottle of champagne from her bag and smiled to see the ice bucket with its half-empty container of orange juice. Perfect.
Maybe we'll have Mimosas. It's a little late in the day, but…she shrugged…better late than never. And such a sunny, civilized, happy drink to be one's last…
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hotch reveled in the steaming hot, jet spray of the hotel's shower.
Normally he would hurry. Eight minutes or less, which included shaving. But it felt so good.
When did I forget how comforting a long, hot shower can be? I guess this is one of those 'stop and smell the roses' things…
He soaked up the warmth, feeling muscles relax and tension wash away. He closed his eyes and leaned against the shower wall, letting the spray caress him.
He nearly shot through the ceiling when he felt another kind of caress.
Fingers.
Tracing his ribs with gentle strokes.
The sudden rush of adrenalin in Hotch's still-weakened state buckled his knees and stole his breath.
The voice was so familiar. Straight from a recent nightmare. "Come out when you're ready, Aaron. I'll be waiting…"