The drive was uneventful, and I was a little surprised that the address was over by the airport. After leaving the expressway and driving several miles past industrial buildings and warehouses, I finally arrived at the address. It was an older hotel that had definitely seen better days. I noticed that there were several contracting company vehicles on the street, and seeing the workers moving around the outside decided that they must be renovating the building.
I parked my car next to the main entrance and walked inside. I could hear several of the men making catcalls. I felt myself blushing but chose to ignore them and quickly entered the lobby. The lobby looked like someone had started a bunch of projects and just left them in the middle of completion. Not seeing anyone, I stepped up to the desk and rang the bell on the counter. I waited a few more minutes, looking around at the mess before I rang the bell again.
"Hold your fucking horses," I heard a man shout from somewhere in the back of the office behind the counter. "You know how much shit I have going on..." He trailed off as he came into view and saw me standing there.
"I'm sorry. I thought you were one of the contractors," he realized quickly. I hope you are not here for a room. We are closed for renovations. There should have been a sign outside," he said as he came to the counter.
He was a tall man with dark brown skin and a ratty-looking beard. How he looked at me made me feel uncomfortable standing there in the thin sun dress.
"I didn't see a sign outside," I said, stepping back a little bit from the counter as he leaned forward on the counter. His eyes got a little wide, and I realized that the light coming from outside must be going right through the dress I was wearing. I blushed a little and moved my hands down, putting my purse in front of my crotch.
His eyes trailed up from my legs to my eyes, and he gave me a creepy smile. "Well, we are closed, but I might be able to find you somewhere to stay," he said, slowly licking his lips.
"Oh no, I'm not here for a room," I told him nervously.
"Well then, why are you here?" he asked, looking amused.
"I am meeting someone," I quickly told him.
"Who would that lucky someone be?" he asked, enjoying my discomfort.
"Pop," I told him.
"Pop? I don't know anyone by that name. Are you sure you have the right address?"
I reached inside my purse and pulled out the card Donna had given me.
"Let me see that," the man demanded.
As I handed him the card, he captured my hand in his with one hand and pulled me closer to the counter. I could smell his cheap cologne and bad breath as he held my hand on the counter and took the card from me.
"Oh, I know who this is," he recollected, letting me go and stepping back from the counter. For the first time, I noticed him looking worried.
"Sorry for not remembering the name. I am horrible with them, and there are so many contractors working around here."
He pointed to the left hallway. "Go down that hall and take the elevator to the 4
th
floor. His office is in room 432."
"Here, take his card with you."
He laid the card on the counter and retreated to the desk in the corner.
"Thanks," I told him, rubbing my wrist.
I picked up the card and wondered again who Pop was. Everyone seemed afraid of him, and I honestly thought about leaving. As I stood there trying to decide what to do, the man behind the counter spoke again.
"If he expects you, it would be best not to keep him waiting." With one more glance at my body, he shook his head and retreated into the back where he had been when I arrived.
My indecision lasted another minute before I decided that I had come this far. I might as well meet the man who had been pulling my strings the last couple of weeks.
Entering the elevator, I pushed the button for the 4th floor as instructed.
As I exited the elevator, I noticed how much more rundown it was than the lobby.
No wonder they were remodeling the place. It looked and smelt like a slum. I sighed and started to follow the signs to room 432. Most of the rooms I passed were open, with several not having doors.
Glancing inside them as I walked, I could see trash and dirty clothing, making me think that maybe homeless people had been living there. I rounded the last corner and found the room. This small section of the hallway almost looked clean compared to the rest of the place.
I straightened my dress and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, it opened, and the largest black man I had ever seen stood in the doorway. He had to be seven feet tall and over 300 lbs. and it didn't look like an ounce of that was fat.
He looked me up and down and behind me down the corridor before he spoke.
"So, what can I do for you, little lady?" he asked as he blocked my view of the room.
I cleared my throat before I could answer.
"I am looking for Pop and was told he was here."
I realized how small my voice sounded and hoped he would not see how nervous I was standing there.
"What's your name, sweetheart, so I can see if he is here or not," he inquired with a grin, looking me up and down like a piece of meat.
"Lisa," I said, shaking slightly.
"Well, you are in luck, Lisa. He told me you might be stopping by."
"Come on in," he invited, moving slightly out of the door.
He only moved a couple of feet and was still blocking the room's interior from view as he watched me and the hallway as I squeezed by him.
I felt his hand on my back as he guided me around and to the right so he could close the door and lock it. The room was dimly lit by a single light in the kitchen off to my right. He guided me over to a couch.