The characters in this story are entirely fictional.
Julie trudged through the front doors of the motel on this seventh and final day on the road carrying what seemed to her like a hundred pounds more baggage than she started with. She was glad that this was the last night in a motel and noted with relief that there was only one person ahead of her checking in. She let the heavy laptop case slide off her shoulder and leaned against the desk. She saw that the desk clerk was checking in a tall, rather good-looking man in his (late?) 40's. She had seen him look at her as she came in, then give his attention back to the desk clerk with no apparent attempt to hide the fact that he had "checked her out".
The mousy little clerk looked up from coding the key card and handed it to the man in front of him. "Here you are, Mr. Gentry," he said. "Your room is on the second floor, just left of the elevators." The tall stranger stepped to the side to put his credit card back in his wallet and began to get his baggage together for the trek across the lobby to the elevators. She glanced at him as he stepped to the side and wondered to herself half-jokingly where this tall, handsome man had been all her life. He looked to be somewhere between 45 and 50 but it was difficult to tell because he had a rather youthful face topped by a well groomed head of graying hair. As she looked at him, he casually glanced back at her and smiled. She quickly looked away, a little embarrassed at being caught looking.
"May I help you Ma'am," she heard someone say. She snapped her head around, realizing she had been paying more attention to the tall stranger than checking in, and found the desk clerk looking right at her with a stupid grin on his face.
"Oh! I'm sorry, um, reservation for Haley," she said, a little flustered, as she dug in her purse for her credit card. She glanced back at the stranger, and looked quickly away again as she saw that he was still looking at her. She had caught his eyes working their way up her legs. That should have made her angry, but those eyes; and that smile... She put her attention back to the clerk searching for her name, and he seemed to be having a problem.
"Are you sure you have a reservation?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. I made it myself. It has to be there. Keep looking." Her voice was tinged with frustration. She was weary from the road and wanted to go work out a little and then relax.
The stranger hesitated now, resting his arm casually on the desk, awaiting the outcome of this situation. But he seemed to have more than a casual interest and she found herself wondering what he was waiting for. "Spell the name, please," said the clerk. "H-A-L-E-Y," she spelled slowly and with growing frustration showing in her voice. "Julie Haley," she repeated.
"I'm sorry, but I don't see that name, and I'm afraid we're full tonight," the little clerk said apologetically.
"You cannot be serious!" she blurted out, with heavy emphasis on the "not" part of that word. "Look, it's been a long day. I'm tired, and I'm in no mood for this. It has to be there. Look again." The clerk gave her a look that said 'it won't do any good,' but began searching again in the small, antiquated-looking cardboard box full of index cards.
Just then, the good-looking stranger spoke up and said, "Perhaps I can help - my room has two beds and I'm only going to be using one - you're welcome to share with me." Julie looked toward him with a mixture of disbelief and disdain. The nerve of this guy! She was set to let him have it as she turned around - imagine the gall of this man! But she was surprised at herself that when she looked at his face, and her words caught in her throat. She ended up staring at him, her mouth slightly agape at his sheer audacity, her mind searching for the right words. There on the stranger's face was an odd combination of sincerity and mischief that she found almost irresistible. She realized that he was actually serious, but being very playful with her. No matter how hard she tried, it suddenly seemed impossible to get upset with this disarmingly charming man.
She thought, 'I should rip this guy's head off', but something about that smile made her hesitate. She caught herself thinking, 'damn, what is it about this guy,' and then before her tired and surprised brain could formulate a clever response, she blurted out, "Um, thank you, but I'll pass on that. Maybe some other time." She said the words with a mixture of embarrassment and feigned indignation. She was struck with an odd combination of feelings that told her to slap this guy, and at the same time, take his offer, go to his room, and fuck him all night long. 'Get a hold of yourself, Julie', she said to herself. Then she found herself saying again, "No, really. But, uh, thank you just the same - I think." She was aware that her words sounded forced and she wanted to kick herself for not being able to come up with a better reply, and for being embarrassed and covering it so poorly. She thought, 'I'm 45 years old for chrissakes, I've heard crap like this before, what's going on - am I that tired?'
Just then the stranger spoke again, "Ok, but I think it's a great solution to your problem. If you change your mind, let me know." He said the words with that almost irresistible smile on his lips. With that, he turned and walked out of the lobby toward the elevators. He never looked back at her. She watched him disappear around the corner and found herself wishing he would look back, even for just a second. Then with an audible sigh, she turned her attention back to the struggling desk clerk. She caught him looking at her again with a stupid-looking grin on his face. She scowled at him and he looked back down at the card box and began digging through it with increased urgency.
An hour later, the tall stranger entered the motel's small workout room. As he did, he saw that the woman jogging slowly on the treadmill was the same one he had flirted with at the desk earlier. She looked a little smaller than she had at the front desk, when she had her business suit on. He was delighted to see that his quick assessment of her body at the front desk was accurate, however. She looked damn good for a woman of what he guessed was about 40 years of age. He spoke to her as he entered the room. "Well, hello there, Ms....um, Haley, isn't it?" he said. At the sound of her name, she turned her head and was startled and then a little flustered to see the man who had embarrassed her earlier at the desk. "I take it they found you a room after all?", he asked.
"Um, yes," she said. "And it's Julie. It was just a mix-up with filing my name in that stupid little box they use. Someone had it stuck in there under 'J' instead of 'H'."
"Well, I'm glad you were able to stick around," he said. "But I still think I had a great solution to your problem at the time." He smiled broadly at her without a hint of embarrassment. She just stared at him in continued disbelief at his boldness. He removed the towel from around his shoulders and climbed up onto the stepper machine and began to pump his legs up and down. She couldn't help but glance at him once in a while as she continued to jog on the treadmill.
For his part, he did much more than glance at her. He watched her workout with interest, and had a great view of her. What he saw, he liked. His first impression of her was confirmed as he watched her jog on the treadmill. She was fairly short, just a couple of inches or so above five feet, with short blonde hair (natural? he wondered), nice legs, and small breasts. Her tanned skin was glistening from the workout. She was in good shape and even though he thought she probably was unhappy with herself as most people tend to be, at letting a few pounds creep in over the years, she had a very pretty face and was still very sexy. She also had a great ass which he watched as she jogged. She wasn't perfect, but then, neither was he, he thought as he continued to watch her body move.
Her irritation with being watched so overtly grew as she jogged. When she finished, she stepped off and let him have it - good-looking, and desirable notwithstanding. She looked at him with all the resolve she could muster and said, "Look here, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is, I don't appreciate being ogled. I'll thank you to mind your own business and not stare at me like a piece of meat." She looked at him as intently as she knew how, but realized from the look on his face that her somewhat insincere words didn't take. He either didn't care, or he knew somehow that she was not entirely sincere, which of course, she wasn't. She was kicking herself for what was really going on inside her: she was enjoying the hell out of the fact that this bold, handsome stranger couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She was eating it up, but trying like hell not to give him the satisfaction.
"It's Gentry - Alan Gentry," he said, smiling broadly and with that maddening self-assurance.
"Well, Mr. Gentry, I'll thank you to keep your eyes in your head," she said. With that, she turned and left the room, wrapping a towel around her damp shoulders. As she walked away, she knew he was watching her.