I hand him my credit card.
As the clerk taps on his keyboard, I notice that he's handsome, even in the lame red uniform the hotel makes him wear. He couldn't be more than 30, and he's got surfer-boy looks. His name tag says "Phil."
He hands me back my credit card.
"Thank you very much, Stephanie," he says.
He banged a couple more keys on the computer and then ran a plastic card through a machine next to his computer.
"Here's your room key. You'll be in suite 2204. And I'll be up to see you soon."
"Up to see me? For what?"
Phil smiles.
"Your stepmother invited me to the party."
I'm stunned.
"Party? What party?"
Phil's smile widens.
"We're gonna have fun," he says. "The elevator is around the corner to the left."
That's when I knew her plans. This woman really wants to make me her sex slave. Now with a guy. That can never happen.
I walked until he's out of my sight. I took my phone and dialed the police hotline.
They picked up immediately.
Me: "This is Joshua."
