Going to Room 2C

You climb the stairs of the motel, a little wobbly in your heels. Thankfully, you don't have to go through the lobby.

You pull your phone out of your purse, your hands are shaking a little as you dial Emily. She picks up almost immediately.

"Hey, so I am here." You say, without any introduction. "Are you ready."

"Yes, I mean, I think so." She replies nervously. "Damn Hayley, this is so messed up."

"And hot?" You say uncertainly.

"I am so horny right now." She replies.

"Okay, well, I don't have a plan yet but call me when you get here." You say.

"For sure."

You text her the details and then walk to the room. Once at the door you fumble with the key that Mrs. Fowler left you, struggling to get it out of the envelope as you reach the top of the stairs. The door to room 2C is just as battered as all the others in the motel, the paint on the sign faded and worn with years of wind and rain and snow. You slide your key through the out-of-place card reader and open the door slowly.

There, sitting on the bed is Eric Fowler unsure where to look. He's still wearing his suit, probably from work, though the tie is undone and thrown against the wall of the room. The top button of his shirt is undone too, showing off his thick grayish-black chest hair. Mr. Fowler still has most of his hair, though it's receding now, and it's gone mostly gray.

He recognises you instantly and you can't tell what his face is reading as. You both remain stationary, not speaking. Then he breaks the silence.

"Oh, fuck," he says, in a hushed tone. "Oh fuck, Hayley? Hayley Beck?"

"Yup." You say feeling dumb. This is a man you have known since you were a child and here you are being pimped out to him, by his wife.

"Come in."