It had been three hours and her tea was almost cold. Every last magazine she brought was read and every book she found in the room was skimmed over. Her hair was already done though it could use another spray of product. She considered staying where she was, alone in the hotel room waiting for her-partner to come back. Seeing no sign of him for those last three hours she started getting restless. Waiting around for him was going nowhere, so with one last look in the mirror and a straightening out of her appearance, she grabbed her purse and left the hotel.

Sherrie had no idea where she wanted to go. The restaurant she went to a few nights ago was closed and too far to walk to anyway. A few cars passed by the street before she was able to cross. Maybe a taxi could take her someplace where she could get a few drinks, despite the early timing.

Running across the street dodging incoming cars, she made it to the main road where yellow cabs were parked up and down the curbs. One sat alone, blocking a fire hydrant. Opening the backdoor she stepped inside, the driver a scrawny man. "Where to?" He didn't even look up from his newspaper.

"Anywhere that lets you drink before five," she answered setting her purse on the seat next to her. "Nowhere sketchy though, I don't have my pepper spray with me." The driver laughed putting the car in gear.

"Leave it by the phone?"

"Was too big to fit in my purse," she replied. He cleared his throat.

"Emery has a good few bars, they'll let you stay late and won't question you. I hate those looks some bartenders give you when you order the most toxic drink. Don't you?"

"I also hate wasting time, don't you?" She smiled at him, but he only nodded his head and started the cab, pulling away from the curb and taking off down the street.

Sunday morning was never busy with the bars. Afternoon brought in a quick group or two, but none stayed long enough to get drunk. There was work on Monday. Sherrie sat alone at the stools, sipping her piña colada with one hand, the other draped over her knee. Once a man tripped over her foot and both apologized profusely, the man even giving her his number as a token of sorts. She denied him, and he left without another word. His drink lay spilled on the ground still, Sherrie still able to smell it. "Odd to see your kind here this time of day."

Sherrie turned the stool around to see the bartender, his hand inside a glass wiping it with a towel. She raised an eyebrow. "My kind?"

"You know," he said smiling, shrugging.

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Just a single woman like yourself sitting here, a lovely woman at that." She smiled at the compliment, but didn't speak. "Usually young woman go to church on Sundays," he continued setting the glass down. "Wear one of those big hats and join the pews."

"I'm not really a church goer," she explained.

"Neither am I," he said. He came out from behind the counter and she could see him fully. He wore a white apron with a whiskey stain. He was a young man in his late twenties, his black hair messy like he was in a hurry to get to work. Taking a seat next to her he stuck the towel over his shoulder. "Have a living to make. Hi, name's Jack."

"Sherrie." She accepted his hand to shake. "I can't help notice your accent."

"Spain's a great place," he said. "Too bad they kicked me out, eh?"

"Why on earth would they do that?"

"I was hoping I was too handsome," he laughed. Sherrie rolled her eyes. "But really it was school. Got expelled a few times and came to America to start completely afresh." Sherrie took a few more sips, admiring his confidence in someone he just met. "What about you? You got an accent in there somewhere."

"I'm an Aussie."

"Australia! I've always wanted to go there, filled with beautiful woman who know what they want, and aren't afraid to take chances. Not to mention the weather is nice and hot especially around Christmas. Christmas!" His brown eyes sparkled. "Aren't the seasons opposite down there?"

"Well, we're all quite used to it," Sherrie responded. "Sometimes we joke about how the rest of the world is backwards."

"I love it!" Jack laughed. "I love it, a sense of humor to go with a pretty face. I'd love to visit Australia if I had the money, but-a bartender? We keep our.." His brow furrowed and he snapped his fingers. "The uh, propina?" Sherrie imitated his look.

"I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"Money given after the customer leaves. A tip! Aha! We keep our tips. Not much for a plane ticket." Sherrie couldn't help but smile at the proud look Jack held for thinking of the word.

"How long have you lived in America?" she asked.

"About twelve years," he said. "It's not where I learned English if you're wondering, but it's helped me with grammar. It any different in Australia?"

"Some words are different, but the language works the same." He smiled.

"Perfect then! I won't have too much trouble. Maybe I can see you when I go there, that is, if you still live there." He patted her hand and Sherrie grinned widely at him.

"Yes I do, an apartment." Jack clasped his hands together and shrugged, a small blush creeping on his face.

"Maybe...sometime, I can see you before then." Sherrie's smile disappeared. She had been in the bar for an hour, her hotel room was perhaps breathing with life now. While terms were difficult between the two, Sherrie couldn't do it. She took one of Jack's hands.

"You're very kind," she said. "Funny, kind-and not an eyesore." He blushed. "But-I have to be honest, I have someone waiting for me. At my hotel." He nodded.

"Boyfriend?"

"Uh-" She set her glass down and reached into her purse. "Sort of, it's complicated. But I love him, I can't do that to him. You understand?"

"Of course I do. Can I get you another drink?"

"No, I should get going, he must be back by now. Will this do?" She took some American dollars out of her purse she had gotten in exchange. Jack took it.

"It's just fine. Be safe now. Goodbye." Sherrie stood up and made her way to the door.

"Goodbye."

Her taxi driver was different this time. One that didn't ask too many questions or try to fill the silence. She liked him a lot better. After paying more than the amount due and given a "thank you ma'am" in response with a toothy smile, she crossed the street again and entered the hotel lobby. The clock on the wall was still in the stages of early afternoon. A line of people checking in had begun that morning and only grew as the day wore on. Sherrie thought they were going to run out of trolleys to take the luggage.

She hit the elevator and straightened her outfit out again. Her leather jacket had gotten too hot and it now draped over her arm. Jack's brown eyes stayed in her mind the whole way back, but Angus' eyes and smile always came back too. No one could really compare to him, she thought. She still wasn't ready to confirm their relationship, however.

The door opened on some woman's floor, who got on and pressed a button for the lobby. Sherrie checked where she pressed the button to make sure she got the correct floor. It eventually stopped on it and she left in a hurry. Taking her key from her purse, which took a bit of searching around for, she entered her room.

Angus was still gone. The couch was empty. Whenever he'd go out he'd come back and head straight to the couch to nap. But staying at the bar any longer would have made the time with Jack awkward, and she felt ready to leave anyway. Sitting down before Angus could come in and hog it, she took out her wallet to check the remaining money. Enough to last the rest of the stay, and a few more drinks here and there.

One glance at the door, and it still didn't open. How long was a short visit? Maybe something happened to him. If he had been hurt, she had no way to get home. Their trip would be extended and someone would be paying extra for the hotel and potential hospital bill. Her company she enjoyed would be deprived from her as well.

She saw the coffee table still had his morning cup of tea. Hers had been placed delicately in the sink. The cup was dry now, a little plate underneath it. Putting it in the sink like she did appeared to be too much work for him. Next time he wanted it, which wouldn't take long, maybe he'd learn a little lesson.

His suitcase was next to the door, which still hadn't opened. He brought it out to stuff the clean laundry inside. She sighed and stood up, deciding to at least put that away for him. It was propped against the wall, the handle slightly pulled up. She grabbed it and balanced it on its wheels. It was heavier than she would have thought it to be, taking extra strength to pull it across the room. Laying it down she rubbed her hands. And looked at the door.

It was a stupid idea, he'd be back any minute. But every minute that passed and he didn't show up, images of him and Hannah took up the capacity of her mind. His repetitive reassurances did nothing to ease her racing mind. No matter how much time had been lost between the two childhood friends, they obviously had no trouble rekindling it. Sherrie couldn't stop the small spark igniting in her heart.

Didn't Hannah already have a companion? What was his name, Trenton? No-Travis! Oh, but they were somewhat relatives. He'd sat next to Sherrie on the bus back in Europe. He was friendly; almost too friendly and wore a strange smelling cologne. The way he conversed with her was flattering, but she was in no mood for it. His words of the other woman were not unkind, though Sherrie was glad to be on the side she was. There was nothing to worry about between the two.

The stupid idea came back, and she carried it out. Soon the zipper was on the other side of the bag and the flap was pushed open. Along with socks and various underwear strewn about, there were a few cases of dental floss. These were collected and removed, and the clothes were stacked in a neat and folded pile. The bottom of the suitcase came into view and nothing suspicious ever showed up in her search. Articles of clothing were placed back inside neatly this time, and she zipped it back up. The dental floss was taken and placed in a pocket on the side. When she withdrew her hand, she felt a piece of paper brush against her fingers. Checking herself for a paper cut, she reached back in.

It was an old and yellow little thing. Something she could hardly call special at first glance. The paper was soft enough from time where it wouldn't cut her if she purposefully struck her hand with it. Lifting it to the light she could see a few light pencil markings. On it was written the confession she never hoped to hear from someone else in four little words.

Unlike the clothes, the paper was shoved back in the pocket with force. Someone in the world other than her still had feelings for Angus and he kept the reminder. These constant visits to her house were despised by her heart as she counted how many there'd been. Too many. Enough for the keeping of the note to make sense. She mentally counted how much money she had in her wallet again, and decided to buy two drinks the next morning.

The suitcase was rolled into their bedroom and thrown on Angus' side of the bed.