Architecture student Bobbi is on summer break and finds the vintage motor inn of her dreams but really lucks out when the older owner is pretty hot himself. Summer romance and self discovery.
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Mustang Sally
'Mustang Sally you better slow your Mustang down.'
Jerry Robertson
I'll admit I noticed the Mustang before the girl driving it. Poppy red 1965 Mustang convertible. I know this because it was the year I was born and it is a car I coveted all my life.
The girl quickly grabbed my attention. She stood behind her open door and seemed to study the office, then she looked up at the HiWay Motor Inn sign. She pulled her black cats eye sunglasses down her nose. The corner rhinestones winked in the sun as she looked at me through the front window. I would not pick her for a tourist, and certainly not in our little town.
When the interstate went in and bypassed our town, things went downhill. I worked here when I was a kid and of course it became mine after my Dad passed, which was right about the time my wife wanted me to sell it. I was kicking it around but then she died, so after that there was no reason to change.
The bell on the door jingled when Mustang Sally stepped in along with a puff of hot humid summer air . She smiled and removed her sunglasses. Chocolate brown eyes and hair made me want to see if she tasted the same.
Where the hell did that come from.
I'm dreaming, I laughed to myself, this girl is young enough to be your daughter.
"Hi! I just love this place!" I smiled, waiting for her to ask for a room. She had an elbow on the high check in counter and all I saw above it was white with red polka dot top. "You're the owner?"
"Ah, yes, yes I am. Can I help you with anything?"
At all. I hope.
・Not really, I always wanted to stop by. This is such a great example of googie architecture.・
Before I could reply, the phone rang and I went back to my desk to answer. While I tapped in the dates of stay and information in the computer, she came back and perched on the edge of my desk. She crossed her legs, and the white sandal dangled off perfectly manicured red toes that matched her capri pants that matched her car.
I had to ask them to repeat the information before I hung up.
She sat saying nothing and still smiling, giving me time to notice the midriff top she was wearing, which I had not seen since i was a teenager. This top was obviously current though and buttoned low, exposing a lot of her ample cleavage, and tied in the center of those wonderful breasts.
She held out a slim manicured and and said, "My name is Roberta Jeanette Thibideaux, but you can call me Bobbi for short. That's Bobbi with an I."
"I thought your name would be Sally."
Roberta 'Bobbi' Jeanette Thibideaux
"
All you want to do is ride around Sally
"
On an impulse I turned into the parking lot of an old motor inn on the outskirts of town. I imagine before the interstate, it was a happening place. Today I suspect they do mostly hourly business.
As an architecture student, I noticed the googie style, popular in the fifties and sixties. The sweeping roof lines, and bold dramatic angles. The atomic HiWay Motor Inn sign that was spelled out in individual letters vertically soared high and could be seen forever it seemed. A wall of breeze block punctuated the style.
I parked and marveled at how this place had just been lost in time. No one had marred it's atomic significance with renovations.
I hadn't planned on going in, but the silver fox guy at the desk caught my eye. No one ever accused me of being bold, but here I was.
The bell on the door jangled loudly and would have caught his attention most anywhere on the property. There were twelve units in a U shape, with the office at the front on one side, the other looked as though it may be laundry and storage, so all the units were well back off the street.
At five foot six inches I'm not short, but the check in counter nearly came to my shoulders. It was the same sweeping curves as the roof line. I gazed around a room that I was sure had not changed from the day it was built.
I noticed him staring at me, with a bit of a frown. "Hi! I just love this place!"
Whoa, girl, is that the best you can do.
"You're the owner?" I asked, knowing by now he would think i was totally nuts. His phone rang before I got in deeper. Especially after my googie comment.
I walked around the high counter to check out the rest of the room, but I could not help but check the handsome proprietor. He could have been my Dad, and did have a little bit of a Dad bod, but there was a latent maleness that usually only younger guys have. And what I was thinking about him was definitely not Dad like, I thought wryly.
While he took the call, I sat on the edge of his desk, which would normally be another bold ballsy move for me. I chalked it up to the atmosphere of this place. His voice was raspy and deep bass. A voice i could listen to all day. A voice I could get rich by pandering him to women for phone sex.
He leaned back in his office chair just as I crossed my legs and noticed he was distracted by my sandal swinging off my toes. Although I saw no ring, I wondered if he was married.
He hung up and I introduced myself. I had to wonder what made him think my name would be Sally.
Who the hell was Sally anyhow?
But I decided then and there that had more important things to discover about him.
"I remember having gone by this place as a little girl and wondering about it. I guess I loved architecture even then."
"Oh, you're an architect?"
"Student. Another year and I will be. I'm on break." Done with talking about me, I looked around the room. "This place looks as though it hasn't been touched since it was built."
"Not really. My wife wanted to do some updating, but my father was adamant it stayed the way it was."
Wife. Ugh. I was afraid of that. Why should I care, I asked myself.
Because he is intriguing, that
'
s why!
"Well no offense to your wife, but I'm glad you father wanted it to stay that way. I take it he has passed?"