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And third. I probably would have stood there gawking all day if the very real distress in her voice hadn't diverted my attention."Loki, come down! You know you don't like heights."A cat that didn't like heights? Now there was a new one on me. I did have to agree though that the cat really was looking miserable up in the tree. Despite the furry face, this cat's demeanor was 'Get me out of this. NOW!'. Now, I'm a dog person, but no way could I ignore this pretty girl's plight. I always was a sucker for a damsel in distress. Even one with a hissing black cat.I went to stand next to her. "Hi. I'm Adam. Adam Williams. Need a hand?"That was when I was introduced to the most gorgeous pair of slate gray eyes I'd ever seen. These were the kind of eyes that poets wrote about. As a newspaper man (feature writer in the school paper thank you), I was used to cataloging things. No way would I be able to catalog her eyes. They seemed to shift colors with every thought or passing breeze. Always. When I requested directions to the room, she gave me a haughty look, then pointed to the stairs. As I walked away, I sensed her gaze burning into my back. Could she, like the others, see what a faker I was?Fucking David Bowie song.Reaching the stairway — and the hotel exit only yards away — I made my decision: I would not flee, even though it was my natural instinct. The first step is always the hardest. The second wasn't much easier, but I didn't stop. With my heart beating frantically, I stared at door number 23. Keycard inserted, I felt a mix of dread and elation when the green light illuminated. The lock released, the door popped open, and after a moment's indecision, I stepped into the room. Tastefully decorated in soft neutral tints, it had contemporary furniture. Nice. I relaxed. Walking past the bathroom door, I gazed at the double bed. Another smile split my lips, and I glanced around the room. On the writing desk lay an envelope, addressed to Mrs D. The card inside.
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