Roseanne Dowell is an avid reader and writes various types of romance - paranormal, contemporary, and mystery. She has several books published as well as over 40 articles and short stories published in magazines such as Good Old Days, Nostalgia, and Ohio Writer and several online publications. Besides teaching writing courses for Long Story School of Writing www.lsswritingschool.com ,she also taught two writing courses for the Encore Program at Cuyahoga Community College.
Roseanne lives in Northeast Ohio and where she enjoys life as a wife, mother of six, grandmother of fourteen and great grandmother of one. Besides writing, Roseanne enjoys embroidery and quilting, especially combining the two.
Visit Roseanne at her website www.roseannedowell.com or her blog http://roseannedowellauthor.blogspot.com/
Wendy waited at the elevator until he got his key and headed towards her.
“Bill, I was thinking, and…uh...if you still want to have that drink, give me a few minutes to freshen up and I’ll meet you in the bar.”
“I don’t know about you, but I could go for a bite to eat, too. I haven’t had dinner yet.”
Wendy shrugged. Why not? Why look a gift horse in the mouth? “Sure, sounds good.”
The elevator door opened and they stepped in. Wendy pushed three. “What floor?”
“Three. Looks like we’re neighbors.”
Wendy couldn’t believe it. This was too eerie. As long as he wasn’t right next door. That was just too close for comfort.
The elevator doors opened and Wendy stepped into the hall and turned to the left. Bill followed behind. Wonderful, his room was in the same corridor as hers. She stopped in front of room 324. “I’ll see you downstairs in...” she looked at her watch. “Say fifteen minutes?”
Bill looked at her, a silly, lopsided grin on his face. “You aren’t going to believe this.”
He held out his key envelope. Room 324 was stamped on it.
“No way!” This absolutely couldn’t be happening. “There had to be some mistake.” She blocked the doorway. “Look, I don’t know how this happened, but no way am I sharing a room with you. I suggest you go back to the desk and sort it out.”
Bill leaned against the doorframe and smiled. “I’m afraid you have no choice. According to the clerk when I registered, this was the last room.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m not sleeping in the lobby.” He reached around her and inserted his key card, pushed the door open and went inside.
He walked toward the farthest bed and threw his duffel bag on the chair. “I’ll take this one.” He fell on the bed and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.
Wendy stood at the door. “Oh no, you don’t. Damn it! I AM NOT sharing a room with you.” She dropped her bag near the doorway and hurried into the room. She picked up his duffel bag, walked to the door and set it out in the hall. “Sorry, Mr. Johnson, but this is my room.”
Thanks Roseanne for stopping by.