“Gracias,” Grace responds. I know the man was asking a question. I could tell by the tone he was speaking, so I’m almost positive he wasn’t requesting gratitude.
“Si, senor. Grace se va a cesar con un hombre maravilloso llamado, Rex.”
“Ah, muy bien!”
“You speak fluent Spanish? I ask Macy.” We’ve been friends forever, and I had no clue she spoke Spanish this well.
“Rosetta Stone,” she replies.
“Wow, you were really prepared for this trip huh?” I ask as I clamber into the shuttle.
“Well, I know you aren’t a planner, and I didn’t want Grace to stress over any detail, so yeah, I wanted to make sure this weekend is perfect.”
I feel like a total asshole now. I thought she was taking care of the hotel and I was taking care of the flight. I didn’t realize she was doing extra credit. I would have helped.
“It’s not that I’m not a planner. I just—I like to go with the flow. Planning stresses me out.”
“I know that. That’s why I did what I did. I like to plan. We’re all good, okay?” I feel like she’s saying we’re all good, but I’m wondering if she’s feeling something else.
* * *
Thankfully, the ride to the hotel was simple. It took about a half hour, but we’re here at what looks like paradise. Maybe a girl’s weekend away isn’t so bad after all. “You know, I heard hot guys hang out around this hotel,” Macy says as we’re waiting for our room keys.
“Oh yeah, who did you hear that from?”
“I saw it on Tripadvisor,” she says nonchalantly.
“People review a hotel based on the good-looking guests?” That’s new.
Macy shrugs. Her phone rings for the third time since we’ve gotten off the plane. She’s taken each call privately by taking a step away from us, or by curling into the corner of her seat on the shuttle and rushing someone off the phone. She’s up to something.
“I’m just going to run to the bathroom,” Grace says, jogging off in the other direction.
Macy holds up her finger in response to Grace, and to the question I was about to ask regarding check-in. Macy walks off with her phone again, smiling as she says hello to whoever is on the other line. Rather than staying put like Macy probably preferred, I follow her, curious to hear who she’s talking to. I keep a little distance so she doesn’t notice I’m here, but I’m close enough to listen in to her conversation.
“I love you too. I already miss you like crazy, but the weekend will go by fast and Sunday will be here before you know it,” she says, cupping her hand around the phone.
Macy is single.
Macy was single.
Macy is in love, so she’s not single.
She ends the call and turns around, her nose stopping a few inches from mine. “Who is he?” I question.
“Jesus, Alexa. Were you listening to my entire conversation?”
“I was. Is that why you’ve been coming home from work late?”
Macy can’t stop the redness from creeping over her cheeks as she presses her fingers against her lips. “I didn’t want to steal the thunder right now. Grace is enjoying the attention and I want this time to be about her.”
“Who is he?” I repeat.
“Keller Rain. He’s the junior editor in my office.”
“Wait, you said you had to travel with the junior editor on your last business trip, and how annoying it would be that it was just the two of you and you’d have to show him all the ropes.” I repeat her words verbatim.
Her big brown eyes go wide as she stares at me with contemplation. “Well, I lied. That business trip was the best week of my life.”