Beth Michele: Scarred Beautiful

It may sound strange, but in many ways Caleb has been like a lifeline for me. When Mom and Clara passed away from breast cancer, it was Caleb’s family who was there by my side, and Brad’s, every step of the way. With my father’s lack of presence in my life, it was Caleb’s parents who supported me, his family who I drew strength from when I needed it the most.

“Okay,” he says quietly, raking a hand through his dark, cropped hair, “so now I get why you want to stay here. Why am I not staying here? Oh wait, I am staying here. I’m staying in your room.”

“Caleb.” I smirk, foolish me thinking that I could actually have a week to chill out. “I booked an extra room, and you’re more than welcome to stay. We’ll just need to get your clothes later.”

“Fuck, yeah!” he calls out, slapping me on the back and earning another dirty look from the lady with the newspaper. “You need to loosen up…and we’re going to have some fun!”

I look over at him, my brows rising and a half-smile crossing my lips. “I have one condition, though.”

“What?” he asks innocently, popping a mint in his mouth.

“Well, that you keep whatever roses you decide need watering in your room with the door closed.”

He grasps my shoulder and lets out a hearty laugh. “I will, man. I promise.”

The ride in the shuttle from LAX to The Ritz Carlton is nothing like I expected. The traffic in LA is crazy yet the driver seems relaxed, his arm leaning against the open frame of the window, his fingers gently tapping the steering wheel to the beat of a song I can’t quite make out. I wrestle the cell phone from my bag to call Peyton, but her phone instantly goes to voicemail so I send her a text.

Arrived in LA, safe and sound. Call when you can. xox

Everything around me is at a low hum. There are no horns honking or drivers screaming out their windows like I’m accustomed to in Manhattan. It’s a welcome change and I feel an unusual sense of calm. As much as I didn’t want to come on this trip, I desperately needed to get away. Work has been absolutely insane since my promotion and I’ve barely had time to go out and have any fun. Gabby moved in with Brad so I rarely see her now. My heart squeezes in my chest as if it’s trying to escape. Happiness seems to be floating all around me, yet it doesn’t stop to land on my shoulders.

What happened to that girl? The girl who fearlessly passed out watermelon Jolly Ranchers in elementary school knowing full well what the consequences would be once the teacher inhaled the sweet smell wafting through the air; the girl who smiled as she got thrown off a jet-ski, the wind whipping through her hair, only to get right back on and ride it again; the same girl who told Gabby to get her head out of her ass and live her life when her fiancée died. I want that girl back.

I close my eyes and steady my breathing. I refuse to continue down this path, so I make myself a silent promise. I’m going to have a great time on this trip and get back to being fun-loving Fran, tucking away all the painful memories that threaten to steal her from me.

This hotel is fucking amazing. For the second time today, I have to close my mouth for fear the drool is pouring from my lips. I look up at the massive skyscraper, beaming, visions of basking in elegance and massages from seriously hot men in my future.

The driver helps me out and pulls my suitcase from the back. I give him a twenty-dollar bill and have absolutely no idea if that’s too much or too little, but I’m guessing from the grin on his face that it’s just right.

The moment I walk inside, I take it all in and can’t help but smile. I love the ultra-modern touch of this hotel. It’s totally my style with muted dove grays, browns, and relaxing creams, abstract art lining the walls, and various leather chairs and couches sitting beside rich, wood tables scattered throughout the lobby. I check in at the front desk and grab a keycard for my room on the twenty-third floor. Rolling my suitcase over to the elevator, I wait for it to ping and then step inside. The walls are covered with mirrors and I glance at my reflection as the car ascends. Dark blue circles rest below my eyes and my clothes are slightly wrinkled, evidence of the stressful journey I endured today. But, I’m alive and I conquered one of my fears, albeit with a little help from Ryan. The thought makes me smile.

The elevator doors open and I drag my suitcase into the hallway, looking for room 2301. I follow the arrows, taking a left and heading straight down the corridor until I find my room. Once the keycard is in the door, I push it open, my mouth forming a huge smile the moment I enter. The place is stunning. Again, there’s a contrast of light and dark wood and soft lighting. A king-sized bed sits in the center of the space covered in luxurious white fabrics. There’s a gorgeous abstract painting of the ocean in an array of blues hanging to the left of the bed, and against a wall of windows is a white couch decorated with pillows in various shades of orange. I step further into the room and walk toward the glass. The view is absolutely breathtaking. You can see all of Southern California. I’m sure once night falls, it will be even more spectacular, the city bathed in a sea of twinkling lights.

I kick off my heels, let out a huge squeal and jump on the bed. Excitement causes a rush of adrenaline to spread through my body, the thought of having fourteen days away from the hustle and bustle of New York is suddenly incredibly appealing. I venture into the bathroom to wash my face, letting out one more happy chirp when I see the extra-large tub and Jacuzzi encased in cream and orange marble. My bathroom is nice, but it pales in comparison. At the rate I’m going, I may never go home.

I make my way back out to the suite and grab my cell phone to call Peyton, but again it goes to voicemail. Where the hell is she? She always answers my calls. It occurs to me that maybe she’s indisposed. I hope she’s indisposed doing something naughty.

The bed is inviting and I flop back on the comforter, exhaustion completely overtaking my limbs, the softness cradling my entire body. The next thing I know, I’m startled awake by tapping on the door. With a gentle rub of my tired eyes, I try to get my bearings, noting that darkness has fallen but unaware of what time it is.

My legs feel heavy from sleep but I manage to swing them over the bed and trudge to the door. I pull it open, yelping loudly at the sight of Peyton standing on the other side with a huge smile on her face and a suitcase by her feet. I throw my arms around her, relief and happiness flooding me all at once.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, an edge of excitement mixed with surprise in my voice.

“Nice to see you, too.” She winks, entering the room and pulling her bag behind her. “Fucking wow,” she comments, dropping the handle of her suitcase to the carpet with a thud. “This place is fucking unbelievable.”

“I think you need one more fuck in there,” I joke.

Peyton looks ridiculously gorgeous every day of the week and today is no exception. With her skintight black dress, perfect curves, almond-colored eyes, and bouncy waves cascading over her shoulders, she is the picture of perfection. Then I look down at her feet. “Hey, are those my shoes?”

She laughs and flips her hair over her shoulder. “You said I could have them once you were gone.”

“Interesting interpretation of my words.” I laugh and pinch her arm as we take a seat on the bed. She kicks off my shoes and leans back on her elbows. “I’m really glad to see you but I still don’t understand what you’re doing here.”