Novelas y relatos de Hotels On Jimmy Carter Blvd

"It's fine. One day won't hurt." "Okay, then. Consider it a chance to relax." "I'll help you pack." Lauren smiled gently. Carter nodded, increasingly impressed by Lauren's competence and virtue. He believed that a woman like her was probably the kind who could stay by his side for the long haul. … The next evening at 6:30 pm, Carter and Lauren arrived at Calmont Hotel—a six-star hotel in Draventh. The moment they reached the hotel front desk, they unexpectedly ran into someone. It was Rhea.

Then she quickly remedied his poor attempt at the knot with adorably motherly fussiness. Glancing down, he nodded his approval, then acknowledged her skill. “Much better. Thanks. Come on,” he hurried towards the dining room, “I’ll tell you everything once we sit down.” ** “So it’s not a hotel on the matchbooks,” Will advised when they were finally seated and their drink orders taken. “It’s an apartment building along the south side of Pershing, just off DeBaliviere itself. Apparently, much of the area was developed after the 1904 Olympics here. I’d been educated earlier that the apartment building’s owner happens to be Mrs. Holland’s brother.”

It had once been one of the premier black hotels in the 1930s, but now it had become a by-the-hour rental filled with alcoholics, drug addicts, and hookers. “What’s going on, Keith? Where’s Jimmy?” “He’s upstairs.” Keith sounded suspiciously close to tears. “He said I needed to call you. I was supposed to even call Miss Hathaway if I had to and tell her it was an emergency and to track you down. He said I’m supposed to tell you that Lacey’s in trouble.” I nearly cursed out loud. I should have seen this coming. Now everything made sense. “I’ll be right there,” I said. “You stay outside of that hotel and don’t go in, you hear me? You wait for me.”

“By 'mini' I mean just the rest of the day, but still, it's going to be just what we need to get away from it all. For a little while we'll get to pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist. It's going to be amazing.” When we got to the end of the hall, Carter pushed open the emergency exit door. The sun was bright and I squinted hard as we walked outside into the heat. His black SUV was already parked in the alley. His driver was waiting for us with his window down. “Good afternoon, sir,” the driver said, nodding toward Carter. “Where are we off to today?” “To the docks,” Carter said, then paused. “Wait, actually, no. Not yet. Take us over to that new mall in Uptown. This young lady n

He arranged different women in different types, all willing to spend a night with Ravien Drayton and keep their mouths shut about it afterward. Tonight's location was some estate on the east side of the city. One of the women, a model named Scarlett, lived there. James had sent me the address earlier and when I glanced at my GPS, I should be close. My phone buzzed again and it was a message from James: "Sir, correction on the address. It's 1847 Ashwood Lane, not 1847 Ashwood Drive. Apologies for the confusion." I looked up at the street sign,and it was Ashwood Drive, the wrong location.

The hotel located on the outskirts of Kennedy Airport was arranged by Caspian. It’s a six-story red-brick building, nestled between two motels and a 24-hour laundromat. Two letters were missing from the neon sign, leaving the words “RIV RS DE” glowing with a faint pink light in the twilight.

and turned his attention back to the screen of his phone, as though I was no longer standing there. I sighed, turning to leave, but hesitated, glancing back at him. "Are there any other hotels in town?" I asked, and he smirked, not even bothering to look up as he answered. "There's a motel down on Walker Street, if you're brave enough," he said, sounding somewhat amused, and I frowned, unsettled by the latter part of his answer.

I said no. "This is something I need to do alone," I said. "You are not alone," Liam said. "You have me." "Then just you." He kissed my forehead. "Just me." The flight was short. The rental car was small. The drive to the retirement home took thirty minutes. The building was white. Clean. A garden out front. A fountain that was not running. Helen Carter was in room 112. The door was open. She sat in a wheelchair by the window. Her hair was white. Her hands were thin. Her eyes were closed.

He zoomed off immediately. After minutes of driving, he parked the car at the parking lot of the hotel. When we got down, he took me into the hotel. The name was LIAMS HOTEL. His hotel was so big and so expensive but not up to Dave's own. Why the fuck was I surrounded with rich guys? He led me into the elevator and we stopped at the fifteenth floor. The corridor was large and extremely beautiful. He stopped in front of room door 308 and turned to me.

he asked me. "Nothing is wrong," I replied, accompanied by a sigh. I clenched my hands tightly behind my sling bag and shifted my gaze to the surroundings we were passing by. "Stop looking at me, Jiro. Just concentrate on driving." Soon, the car came to a stop and I looked around to see where we were. We had traveled quite a distance, and I didn't expect him to bring me here. Sapphire Legacy. It was the biggest hotel in the North, owned by Jiro's parents. He turned off the engine and got out of his Dodge Viper. He bent down to open the door for me.