Crashing Into Blue

Chapter 30

Sitting in a rental car with Davis and Indigo, in complete silence, is definitely one of the strangest scenarios I've been in and also one of the most uncomfortable, definitely a close second to our first encounter on the porch earlier that night. After Davis broke the silence, it's as if his words jolted us back into action. His voice was smooth and deep, and it demanded your attention in a way I never quite felt over the phone. It made me think of how his laugh must be deep and rumbling, but I could tell that it pissed Indigo straight off. She put on her trademark scowl and cocked her hip to the side.

"That's all you've got for us?" Indigo said to Davis.

Davis looked between Indigo and myself, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to figure out the correct answer to her question.

"I should also apologize for being so late," he eventually said in what seemed to be a shy manner. His voice wasn't as strong and assertive as a moment before.

I felt my heart race for a second, and by the surprised look that Indigo was trying to mask, I knew hers was too. Was this what we've been waiting for? Could it really be this easy?

He took another step, reaching his arm out. I almost felt mine extend when he flicked his watch out from under his sleeve and bent his arm back towards himself. My arm went limp by my side.

"Trying to get a toddler ready for a dinner outing takes forever, and Katherine was trying to finish getting ready and I just couldn't get away. But better late than never, I guess."

Did he not realize who he was talking to? Better late than never? I personally was leaning towards never, and a quick glance towards Indigo confirmed my sentiment.

He clapped his hands in front of himself.

"So, let's get a move on, alright?" He walked down the steps, not even waiting to see if we would follow him. Indigo turned her back, going for our front door, but I reached out to grab her arm. She turned towards me, the fury evident in her eyes; all I could do was silently plead with her. I knew we were both feeling defeated before we truly even started, but a scene this early on would do no good for anybody. With a huff, she straightened her shoulders and powered down the steps, slamming the door of his rental car without another word. I meekly followed behind her.

We finally arrived at the Conch, after a car ride filled with half ass attempts at questions and half ass attempts at answers. It seemed like no one knew what to say, or how to answer. Eventually, we descended into a stiff silence. I never knew a relief so strong as when we finally reached the hotel and Davis tossed his keys towards the beige-clad valet attendant.

Now, making our way in the hotel, I take it all in, never having had a reason before to come to the Conch Royale. In the lobby, I see large beige, speckled tiles beneath my feet. Above, there is a tiered crystal chandelier, casting a yellow glow around the room. The front desk is a long wooden surface, with a painting of a conch behind each computer station, where navy uniformed employees check in guests and hand over room cards with a gracious smile. Davis leads us up one of the two curving staircases that frame the front desk, which are made out of a matching wood tone, finally leading us into the dining room.