Love Unscripted (90 page)

“
You can just leave my bags here,” I pointed to the floor in the entryway.

“
That’s okay ma’am, I’ll take them to the bedroom for you,” the bellboy nervously insisted.

“
I can get them,” I said. I wanted the bellboy out as soon as possible so that the second I saw Ryan it would be a private, intimate moment. I had been thinking about this reunion for days. I even strategically picked out my outfit – a simple cotton top and his favorite jeans. I was not about to waste a second of our time messing with layers of clothes as we got re-acclimated. Besides, I didn’t know if Ryan was lying and waiting naked in the bedroom. At least I hoped he was.

“
No! Um, I have to take them!” The young man was adamant, almost shouting out at me. Before I had a chance to say no again, he quickly carried my bags off to the bedroom.

“
Here you go,” I said with a smile, tipping the bellboy ten dollars. He quickly snatched the money from my fingers and sprang for the door, not even making eye contact. I thought it was rude that he didn’t even say ‘Thank You.’

Ryan’s suite was magnificent, of course! Private bedroom, enormous living room, and a large dining table with a lush fresh flower centerpiece made the room feel like an apartment.

“
Ryan?” I called out, wondering why he didn’t meet me at the door. I hurried to the master bedroom and opened the double doors. “Are you here?” I wandered around all the rooms but he wasn’t in the suite.

Where is he?
We had agreed to meet here. I looked at my watch. I had expected him to be waiting for me, figuring he’d scoop me up in his arms and carry me off to the bedroom the moment we saw each other.

I tried his cell number, anxious to let him know I had arrived. My smile turned to a frown when his voicemail answered instead.

I took my thin jacket off, struggling a bit to get the cuff over my cast, and laid it over the back of the silk-clad chair.

Shimmery hues of black, blue, and cream-colored fabric caught my attention. Next to the polished mahogany dining table stood a long metal clothing rack on wheels.

I hesitantly approached, admiring the exquisite evening gowns that hung on padded hangers. I let my fingers feel the silkiness of the different fabrics. One striking dress stood out over the rest – the bustier top was made of buttery soft ivory leather, crisscrossing at the waist. Curiosity made me look.
Atelier Versace,
I read the garment tag. I felt like I was committing a crime just by touching the dresses.

Stacked up on the floor were dozens of shoeboxes - Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin, you name it. Every high-end shoe designer was represented.

Why does Ryan have women’s clothing on display? Must be nice to be an actress – look at all the perks that come along with it. Wait, am I in Ryan’s room or Lauren’s room?

I turned around in confusion then hurried off to the bedroom again, noticing Ryan’s suitcases and his Gibson guitar. I double-checked the luggage tags and sighed with relief after reading “Shell-B Enterprises.”
Okay, I’m in the right room.

I reached for my suitcase and noticed there was an envelope lying next to it on the bed.
Hmm, that’s weird. Did the bellboy leave a bill for something?
I opened the envelope and removed the folded paper.
Ah! Ryan did leave a note!
My eyes focused on the handwriting... but it wasn’t Ryan’s.

Are you serious? No, this can’t be happening!
My brain tried to rationalize what I just read.
No, he wouldn’t do this to me. Not today. Not on my birthday.

I looked at the note again, trying to read it as it shook in my hand.

There was my name…

I felt the weight of the entire world as it collapsed in on me, shattering every bone in my body. My heart was instantly torn to shreds and smashed into dust.

…
There was her signature, clearly encouraging
my
boyfriend to leave me. The rumors, the lies, the photographs – could they all be true?

…
The words jumped off the page like a sharp dagger into my heart.

“
No. Damn It! NO!” I cried out. “No! He loves me! Me, not her!”

Did he really fly me down here to break up with me or wasn’t I supposed to see this little remnant of his infidelity?

How could he do this to me? Would he really be that coldhearted, leaving this behind for me to read?

Why not? After all, Thomas did it to me.

No, Ryan is not like that. He is a good person… who is cheating on me.

I started to hyperventilate. A million pictures flashed through my mind... Ryan kissing my hand, his smile that made my heart flutter, hearing his voice say he loves me a thousand times.

No, there has to be a rational explanation for this! There has to be!
I staggered slightly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

My foot stepped onto something on the floor, right next to where my suitcase was placed. I bent to pick up the shimmery fabric. As I unraveled it, I discovered that in my hands was a pair of black silk women’s panties. Like creeping death, more evidence of his infidelity unfolded to me. Visions of him with Lauren, making love to
her
in this bed right in front of me, snuffed out every one of my joyous memories.

My cell phone shrilled in my pocket, startling me. My pulse quickened and I recoiled back, almost falling over my own feet.

“
Hello?” I answered in between sobs.

“
Is this Taryn Mitchell?” the male voice inquired abruptly.

“
Yes. Who is this?” I muttered, wiping my cheek on my sleeve.

“
It’s not important. Write down this address,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, muffled.

“
What?” I asked, completely confused.

“
He is with her right now,” the stranger informed. “We’re taking pictures of them together. Get a pen.”

While I listened to the clicking sounds of a camera, I scrambled to the desk and found a hotel tablet – the same stationary that Lauren used.

“
Do you have a pen?” the man yelled.

“
Yes, but I don’t understand.”

“
You need to see the truth. Hurry. The hotel will get a taxi for you. Come to 2950 West Palermo Avenue - the restaurant on the corner. Shoot that… he’s kissing her again! Ah! He is so busted! 2950 West Palermo.”

“
Who is this?” I asked. “Hello?”

I tore the paper off the pad and grabbed my purse.

“
2950 West Palermo,” I read the address to the taxi driver and then shoved the paper back in my pocket. The rain came down in buckets, causing the car headlights to glare off the windshield. The skies were pitch black from the storm blasting Miami. The dark and ominous clouds brought the wind, which caused the rain to blow sideways. Loud thunder started to rumble between the lightning flashes.

I sat on the edge of the back seat, staring wildly out the front window of the taxi. I saw the road sign indicating Palermo Ave. My throat became tight with anticipation.

The taxi driver pulled over to the curb.

“
2950 Palermo.” The driver pointed at the tall office building. “That’ll be fourteen-fifty.”

I grabbed a twenty out of my wallet; my hand shook as I handed it to him.

“
Do you want a receipt?” he asked in a rough voice.

“
No,” I said quickly, my hand was already pulling the lever on the door.

I gave the cab door a shove and hurried through the rain towards the shelter of the entrance. Frightening thunder rumbled through the sky; the earsplitting crack made me instinctively duck while it echoed loudly off of the tall buildings. I flinched from the sound; knowing my luck I’d probably get struck by lightning today too.

I looked at the big numbers on the gray stone building… 2950. It was a bank with several floors of offices above it.

I was utterly confused.
What the?
Was someone playing a cruel joke on me – sending me on some wild goose chase? I pulled the paper back out of my pocket to double check the address, but instead of the address, I was looking at Lauren’s note again. The note I held in my hand was definitely not a joke.

Restaurant on corner
, my memory informed quickly. I looked up and down the street, unsure of which way to go. I was in the center of the block.

Fueled by the evidence clutched in my hand, I started walking fast down the sidewalk. The rain soaked through my clothes; my wet feet slipped uncomfortably inside my leather boots. My hair that was once nicely done was completely drenched. I shivered from the wind and pulled my purse back up on my shoulder.

I wished I had an umbrella to shield me from the rain. I flipped up the little collar of my shirt just to keep the water from dripping down my back.

Two men were standing near the corner, huddled next to a building, wearing plastic rain jackets. Both of them held cameras with long, white lenses covered by a clear plastic sheath. Their lenses pointed towards the opposite street corner.

I looked across the street to the window. There was the restaurant and there was Ryan, visible from the street. My breath caught from seeing him. Rain dripped from my hair and down my face; my mascara bled and burned my eyes as I tried to focus through the downpour.

I saw Ryan lift Lauren’s hand off the table. The two cameras clicked in a rhythmic hum.