Page 2 of Power Play

The moment I opened the door to my sanctuary, I dropped my bags and collapsed onto the plush bed. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and this time I didn’t have the strength to stop them. This was supposed to be my moment. All my hard work and sacrifice seemed to pay off when I got such an amazing offer. It had been sudden. They wanted me to start just three days after I accepted the job. There wasn’t much time to prepare for my life down here. I just packed up and my parents said I could figure things out when I got here. Ask my coworkers for recommendations of where to live and take time to find the neighborhood that felt right. After all, this was the beginning of the rest of my life.

I had budgeted for a hotel room for a week to give me time to find somewhere permanent to live, but now I would probably need to move again. The last thing I wanted was to ask my parents for help, not after how proud they’d been. I would do this on my own.

* * *

Hunger was the only motivation strong enough to get me to wake up and move. I managed to sleep for seven hours but was still so exhausted. It was after five, and I could’ve easily continued sleeping through the night but my stomach grumbled. Once I stood, though, I realized how desperately I needed a shower. I could smell myself. My pride––and my mother’s voice––prevented me from seeking out food without bathing first.

Once I was presentable, I took the stairs down to the main lobby and found the concierge’s desk.

He grinned as I approached. “Good evening, Miss. How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for a recommendation for somewhere close to get dinner.”

He pulled out a list and a map before pausing. “Are you a Storm’s fan?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Did I like storms? I shook my head.

“Then might I suggest Hillsborough Sports Bar. It has a full dinner menu as well as a superb selection of craft beers. It’s just across the street and down half a block.” He raised his hand to the left.

“Thanks so much.” I smiled and headed in the direction he pointed. I saw the neon signs easily and nearly ran. I was hungrier than I thought, and knowing food was within reach, I didn’t bother to care if people saw me rushing down the sidewalk.

I stepped through the front door and was pleased to see it was more restaurant than bar, with sports memorabilia covering every flat surface, surrounding the wide-open area of tables that were mostly full. I forced my way through the mass of people to the front. A hostess greeted me, and when I said I was alone she recommended a seat at the bar for quicker service. A forty-minute wait to sit at a booth wasn’t worth it.

I found a single open stool and the bartender nodded in acknowledgment while taking the order of a man down at the opposite end.

There was a small, folded menu standing between the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder, so I pulled it out and scanned the options. A juicy burger sounded like heaven. My mouth watered at the thought of dipping salty fries in ranch.

With my mind made up, I replaced the menu and waited for the single bartender to make his way down to me.

A dozen or so TVs made up the entire wall behind the shelves of bottles. Each one displayed a different sporting event or commentator. A few of them were discussing the same hockey game. I cringed and looked away.

“Sorry about the wait. What can I get you?” The bartender shifted back and forth on his feet like he couldn’t possibly stand still.

“The All-American Burger, fries with a side of ranch, and a water to drink, please.” Something stronger was tempting, but I’d been cruel enough to my body the past few days. The best thing I could do was rehydrate so I had a clear head tomorrow. That’s when I would face my problems and figure out what to do next.

He nodded, picked up a glass, and began to fill it. “I’ll get that right up.” He placed the water in front of me and moved to a computer screen at the far corner of the bar.

I looked around, taking in the décor, and paused on a row of jerseys. North Carolina Storm. That’s what the concierge meant. Was I a fan of their hockey team? Why would that matter? My attention went back to the screens, and I found a set of commentators discussing the upcoming finals. The Stanley Cup was taking place.

I read the closed captioning as the pieces fell into place. The Storm were in the finals, and the first game of the series was tomorrow. In Raleigh. No wonder the hotel was so busy, and the wait was so long here. But if I wasn’t a Storm fan, why did he send me here? I twisted in my seat and casually scanned the room as if looking for someone.

Oh no.

Could I still blame sleep deprivation for this oversight? I was in a sea of black and maroon. Utah Fury fans. Everywhere.

I faced forward and hung my head. Maybe if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in graduation, interviews, and moving out, I would have realized sooner what was happening. According to the TV, the Storms hadn’t been to the finals in decades. The city was celebrating and fans of their opponents, the Fury, were arriving in droves.

Great. I wasn’t going to be able to escape this. Everywhere I looked, there were reminders.

The universe was obviously trying to teach me a lesson. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was no other explanation for the crapshoot my life had become. Missing my first day of work, losing my dream job, sitting in a crowded restaurant in a city where I didn’t know a soul, and now the stupid hockey celebration was slapping me across the face.

There was only so much a person could handle before crumbling, and I was toeing that line.

“Here you go.” A plate slid in front of me but I barely got out a thanks before the bartender moved on. I kept my eyes down, forcing myself to take small bites of food. I lost my appetite in my wave of self-pity, but I knew I would end up sick if I didn’t get something down.

If I was going to fix this tomorrow, I needed to take care of myself now. I didn’t have to think yet. No pressure. Just bite, chew, swallow, and repeat.

The tears threatened to make another appearance, but I closed my eyes and fought them back. I would not lose it in public. I didn’t look around, not even to the TVs. My only goal was finishing as much as I could and getting out of there. I could hide in my room and forget the outside world, at least for a few days. I didn’t have enough money in my account to stay long, not without a job.