We hadn’t left the hotel room all weekend, and totally missed all the weekend festivities. But that was all right with me. We were busy making love in every part of the suite, except for the balcony, which I was loathe to do, much to Melinda’s disappointment. I was afraid it would draw unnecessary attention to us. It was a wonder that they hadn’t broken down the door before they did, with all the romping around and screaming we did. Ah, the screaming. I don’t usually let go of my filters like that, but I was caught up in the exquisite euphoria of it all. We weren’t arrested, thank God, and in fact impressed them with the fact we were completely sober. Melinda did have to pay for damages done to the suite, which came to almost ten thousand dollars. She said it was worth ten times that amount. And now it was Monday. I slumped further down into Melinda’s arms and tried to forget what day it was. I hate Mondays. Last year, when I worked as a waitress, Mondays were always horrible because business was slow, which meant we had to spend our time cleaning.
