Around the World in 80 Men Series: Books 11-20 (15 page)

A deep sleep isn't exactly what
she had enjoyed, so by morning, she was ready to leave the bed and
start her day. Her first order of business was coffee, but that
wasn't an option. “You're freaking kidding me.” She
scanned the small room, searching for anything that resembled a
coffee pot, but no luck. Morgan had to take drastic measures, and
that included an attempt at calling the front desk.

“What hotel doesn't
answer their phone?!” She had never known a place to
completely ignore their guests, so it was shocking, even for the
horrible hell hole that she was in. “That's fine, you can't
ignore me face to face!” There was no way that Morgan Holland
planned to start her day without caffeine, and her longing for it
managed to help her get dressed and ready for her day in record time.

Wearing her favorite white long
sleeved sweater, with skinny jeans and boots, she hopped down the
stairs right outside the room and clicked straight to the lobby. “I
guess they really don't give a shit about their guests.” There
wasn't anyone behind the desk, in the lobby, nor walking in or out.
“Hello?” She tried the bell on the desk, but it too was
broken, so she just yelled louder. “Hello!” Nothing,
not even a general stirring in the back.

She could have stood in front
of the desk all day, and she knew it, no one was going to help her
with coffee or anything else that she may need. It was clear that
she would have to go on a search outside of the hotel, and find a
store or restaurant on her own. After a quick trip back to the room
to grab her purse, she was off again and left the hotel.

Oh shit!
Morgan went
from empty hotel lobby to a small group of men standing right
outside. She put her head down and walked in the other direction,
blocking out their cat calls until her feet automatically picked up
pace. She let out a long sigh of relief when the third building that
she ran past looked like a place that could give her what she wanted.

Once inside, she sat down and
waved over a young woman who was wiping a small table nearby.
“Coffee?” She mimed herself drinking from an invisible
cup, smiling and nodding as she asked again. “Coffee?”
The woman smiled and nodded, then walked away.

The coffee that the woman
brought to her was the strongest, most bitter coffee that Morgan had
every tasted in her life and trying to convince the young waitress
that she needed sugar and creamer was becoming a failure. Morgan had
scanned the little cafe in hopes of seeing sugar on one of the other
tables, but no luck. She had even tried miming again, but she
couldn't think of anything other than ripping open an invisible
packet of sugar and pouring it into her not-so-tasty beverage, but
the woman didn't understand.

“Sugar?” She tried
again. Nothing.
Okay...
Morgan's next attempt was for cream,
and since pouring invisible contents into her coffee wasn't working,
the girl mocked the motion of milking a cow. The waitress finally
understood that part and returned a minute later with a little cup of
milk. It was the best she was going to get, and the one cup of coffee
gave her enough fuel to move on. The place didn't seem to offer much
aside from bread, pastries and caffeinated beverages and she was in
the mood for real food. Morgan paid the waitress, then went back out
to flag down a cab and set out to get a good breakfast.

Chapter Three

“You're American, no?”
The cab driver looked into his rear view mirror as Morgan climbed
into the backseat. Like the hotel, it seemed musty and she cringed at
the thought.

“Uhm...yes.” She
nodded with her words and directed her attention to the window. She
thought it would be best if she avoided eye contact with everyone. As
he got the car started up and the meter ready to go, Morgan thought
about where she wanted to go. She didn't know any restaurants in the
area, nor the names of streets or things of the like. Airport...she
remembered there had been a lot going on there. When he asked her
where she was going, that's what she told him. At the very least, she
figured she could be dropped off if she saw a decent place along the
way.

Twenty minutes later, due to
morning traffic, Morgan began to see the city life again. It was busy
and full of life. The people looked friendly and none of the
buildings looked suspicious. “Here,” Morgan spoke. “Just
drop me off here,” she pointed toward a corner. There were
shops lined up and down every street she saw and there had to be food
in there somewhere. Before she got out of the car, she realized she
didn't even know where she was, so she asked the driver. “This
is Lisbon, right?” He nodded with a creepy smile and she
thanked him, paid him and began her way down the street.

The area reminded her much like
Rio de Janeiro. Every rooftop that she could see was a burnt orange
color, much like the beautiful city in Brazil and the many statues
laid about was another reminder. Morgan was glad she had her camera
in her purse because a day of sightseeing was exactly what she
needed...right after getting food, that is.

“Is
that a....yes!” She felt like she had hit the jackpot when she
turned the corner of a street and saw a big shopping center. A big,
beautiful, shopping center. When she got closer, she could see the
name,
Colombo.
“I've
heard of that before...they have to have food!”

The
young girl crossed the street, weaved between two bumper to bumper
cars, and safely got to the shopping center. Once inside, she found
the food court and what she was looking for. There was an American
fast food chain
and
they
were serving breakfast sandwiches. “Oh, thank you!”
Morgan had never been so happy to order a sausage, egg and cheese
sandwich in her life and they understood her excited order.

It
was when she sat down with her food and coffee that she finally took
a breath of relief. “This isn't so bad.” Aside from the
crappy hotel room, which she could deal with, Morgan thought of it as
a week to herself. She was free to explore the city, shop, eat, take
pictures. All she had to do was be back in the room in the evening,
let Pinky Toe do his thing, and the week would be over before she
knew it.

And
that's exactly what she did. Morgan spent the whole morning and
afternoon sightseeing. She walked the streets and took pictures of
everything she saw, and even met a few Americans who were happy to
take turns taking pictures of each other in front of a large statue
of a horse. There was only one shop that she visited where she found
something that she actually bought, a sheep. Not just any sheep, it
was a sheep that wore full jousting gear, sat upon a horse that was
also ready for battle. A five inch Medieval sheep, in a small store
in Portugal-it was almost a priceless find and she had to have it.
If anything, she would send it to Sean as a gift for his mother, but
she would probably just store it in his bathroom or squeeze it
between two dancing fluff balls on the lower kitchen shelf. Either
way, the sheep left the store with her.

Overall, it was actually a fun day, but the girl knew she had to be
back in her hotel by sunset. Around four o'clock, she got a dinner to
go at an Indian restaurant, then called a cab to take her back. As
she was waiting for the chariot to take her back to the hellhole, she
spotted a hotel that flashed VACANCY in neon blue letters. It was a
nice hotel, and they had rooms.

I
could get a room there...no. I have to do my job. Julianne would be
pissed if I ditched my client. Asshole.
Morgan
realized that more than that one hotel had rooms available as the cab
drove her through the city and her anger grew more with each one. She
wasn't even worth the hundred bucks a night for a less shitty room.
No, she was only worth throwing into the disgusting hotel in the
worst part of town.
He
probably doesn't even live far from here.
Morgan
shook her head and sighed loudly as they pulled up in front of her
hotel, then remembered what she had told herself all morning.

It's
okay...no big deal. Just doing my job. Wiggle your toe and leave.
That's it.
Morgan
paid the cab driver, then grabbed her purse and headed inside the
lobby. Thankfully, the group of whistling men were no longer
loitering outside and she made it into the building without having to
avoid eye contact with anyone.

“Oh!
Uhm...hi...” There was a young woman in the lobby, a beautiful
young woman with sad eyes that pulled at Morgan's heartstrings.

“You
speak English?” The girl came around from behind the bar,
speaking barely above a whisper.

“Yes...do...do
you work here, then?” Morgan asked.

“I
work for my father...” the girl put her head down for a few
moments, then looked back up to Morgan. “I do know what
you...well, I saw you yesterday, with Carlos...”

Morgan
brought her hands up to her face. She understood exactly what the
girl was saying. She knew Carlos, and she imagined that the poor girl
also knew the men who were outside that morning. She didn't have the
heart to tell the girl that she didn't do exactly what the young girl
did, but she understood what she was going through. Morgan nodded
slowly, then walked over to the bar. To change the topic to something
lighter, she asked if they had anything to drink.

“Well,
you probably wouldn't care for the whiskey that we have here, but we
also have wine.” Morgan told the girl that wine was perfect. At
that point, she didn't even care if it was red wine. She needed a
drink, badly. To her surprise though, it was white wine and even
though it wasn't Moscato, it was refreshingly good.

“Thank
you, for the wine,” Morgan told her as the girl poured a second
glass.

“You're
welcome. I...uhm...I don't meet other girls too often,” she
explained. “I'm Nadia, by the way.” Morgan introduced
herself as well, but she couldn't help but wonder why the girl spoke
perfect English. There wasn't the slightest bit of an accent with her
words, so she asked.

“My
mom was American. I lived in Lisbon with her until I was seventeen.
She was a nurse, and I was going to school to be one too...but, she
got sick and passed away right before my eighteenth birthday...”

“Oh,
I'm sorry, Nadia...” Morgan clasped her hands together in front
of her. She hadn't asked the girl to spill her life story, and she
felt bad for asking, but she was interested nonetheless. Maybe the
girl just needed someone to talk to.

“No,
it's alright. It's been six years now.” She looked down at her
glass, and a faint smile with the memories of her mother crossed her
lips. The smile disappeared after a few moments, then she continued.
“When my mom died, everything was left to me, but my dad found
out and moved back to Portugal. He took everything from me. He spent
the money on opening this,” she waved her arms in front of her
to point to the hotel. “It didn't always look like this,”
Nadia laughed nervously. “But we don't get any customers, aside
from...” She didn't have to finish, Morgan understood. It was
the place men brought their prostitutes. The thought pained Morgan.
“I have family in Texas though, someday...I'll get to see them
again.”

The
burning question in Morgan's mind was why would she would stay in
that situation, but she didn't want to pry. Instead, she nodded
slowly and told the girl again, that she was sorry to hear all of
that.

“That
guy you're with,” Nadia leaned in closer with a low voice.
“Just be careful.” The girl spoke as if she knew from
experience and it gave Morgan a sinking feeling in her stomach. She
hadn't planned on being reckless, but the warning still made her feel
uneasy. “Here, take this and you better go back to your room
soon. If my dad...or Carlos...sees us talking, they won't be happy,”
Nadia whispered and passed Morgan a bottle of wine and a glass.
“Morgan...whatever happens, don't fight. Everything will be
fine if you just let him do what he wants.”

Morgan
nodded slowly, and thought about the night before. What would have
happened if she fought him? She didn't need that question answered
because dealing with their
little
time together wouldn't be too difficult.
He's
just an asshole.
“Thanks,
Nadia.” Morgan smiled at the young girl as she nodded, then
watched her walk back into a storage room behind the bar.