If I'm Honest Ch. 12 - Finale

Chapter 12 - If We're Honest (Conclusion)

The knock on the door had made me jump, and I remember exactly how nervous I was as I walked over towards it. Harvey had learned a lot about me in the year and a half we'd been together, but as much as I'd tried to, I'd been mostly unable to get him to open up about the majority of his past experiences or what his life or existence or whatever had been like throughout the centuries.

He likes to dodge those sorts of questions, or point out how it's sort of unfair to dwell on the past.

I'd learned a handful of things, though, none of which I have to admit really revealed to me very much. He'd worked with both men and women in about equal numbers, and his average number of people it took before he got it right was generally around five or six. The amount of time that process took had dwindled in recent years, as sexual mores had loosened significantly, although there had been large periods of time when he'd been able to get his host through extremely high numbers in a relatively short period of time. He was pretty light on specifics, as much as it annoyed me. I did, however, get him to tell me about his best and worst experiences.

In terms of best case scenarios, he'd actually had a couple of hole in ones, perfect matches on the very first try, where he'd mostly just functioned as a confidence booster, and then he was on to someone else just as quickly as he'd arrived. In what he considered his worst time, he had one person whom he was stuck with for almost twenty years, and about half way through it, it had dawned on him that part of the reason that he was having trouble making it work was that wearer had dissociative identity disorder, and there were two competing personalities, each with their own wants and needs. It was Harvey's first exposure to such a thing, and it took him a while to find a solution, but apparently he did. He didn't want to get into the details of it, but he said that it was the most challenging case of his career, and he hoped like hell he never had to do anything like it again.

The one thing I'd found fascinating was that Harvey insisted, and I do mean absolutely insisted that he had a 0% failure rate. He'd always paired people up with their perfect match and left them insanely happy. He told me that he wasn't sure they'd always stayed together after he was gone, because people evolve and change, but he felt confident that almost all of them had remained with the partner Harvey had connected them with until one of them had died.

There was something romantic and heart-warming about that notion, to be so gloriously in love with a person that you would want to remain with them for all of your life. Harvey had promised me that was what he was going to deliver to me, and that's a hell of an expectation to lay at someone's feet. I wondered what would happen if Harvey got it wrong. He'd said he never had before, but there was a first time for everything, and Lord knows I'd had my fair share of hiccups along this road so far, so why wouldn't I be the one time where everything went off the rails? That had been my luck for much of my life. It's human nature to feel that things that seem too good to be true have to be an illusion, or a disaster just waiting to happen.

Was the person of my dreams truly on the other side of that door right now, simply waiting for me to move over to it and open it? Was I about to meet the person who would fill in this empty hole that had been living inside my heart for so long that I didn't remember what I looked like without it?

I heard the knock on the door again, and this time I knew there was no ignoring it.

It was time.

My time.

I needed to go and meet my destiny.

So I headed over to the door and opened it.

...

On the other side of the door stood a good-looking man in his early twenties, dressed in the uniform of the hotel staff, his black hair cut short, freckles all over his face, muscular but certainly not at all my type, being that he was, y'know, a dude. Then I looked down and wanted to collapse laughing.

It was room service.

Fucking room service.

The smile on my face was so wide it actually made my cheeks hurt.

Gotcha, Harvey laughed at me.

The guy wheeled in the cart that had my club sandwich on it, along with a large bottle of Coca Cola, a small bucket of ice, and a tall, chilled glass. "Your sandwich, Mr. King?" the guy said to me, a quizzical look on his face, like he was trying to understand why I looked like I was ready to burst at the seams with laughter, not actually laughing, but on that dangerous verge of it.

"Thanks man," I told him with a smile, shaking my head. "I don't have any pounds or Euros, but hopefully it won't be too much trouble for you to exchange American dollars. Here," I said, handing him a couple of twenties, a generous tip, something the man seemed to recognize, as he offered me a return smile and a bow, backing towards the doorway, which was still open.

"Whenever you're done, you can just leave the cart in the hallway and we'll come by and get it at some point in the night, sir," the guy, whose name tag identified him as NIGEL, said just as he nearly backed into a familiar form in the doorway. "Oh, excuse me, ma'am."

As the boy moved to make his exit from the door, I got a better look at the woman standing there just as she stepped in. She was also dressed in the hotel's uniform, just like she had been the last time I'd seen her, but it looked a great deal better on her than it did on Nigel.

Of course, she also looked pretty damn good with it off, too.

"Oh, hey Brenda," I said. "Fancy seeing you again."

"Very good to see you again as well, Mister King," she said, crossing her wrists behind her back. She was a little older, but it hadn't diminished her beauty one bit. "I just thought I'd stop by and make sure that your accommodations were to your liking." She was wearing her blonde hair even longer now, hanging down past her breasts that strained against the uniform. She was still wearing it too tight for her own good. "I also thought I would stop by to say thank you for our encounter last time you stayed with us."

'This can't be right,' I thought at Harvey.

Wait for it.

"I sort of feel like I should be thanking you for that encounter, Brenda, but I certainly don't expect it would be a regular thing," I said, standing next to the cart with my sandwich on it. "I sort of figured it was like a legendary concert - one night only, you know?"

"Oh," she said before it dawned on her what I was implying and she smiled, sort of surprised, a little laugh escaping her lips. "Oh no, Mister King, that's not why I'm here. Not at all. In fact," she said, as she pulled her left hand out from behind her back, holding it up so I could see a golden band wrapped around her ring finger with a rather sizable diamond affixed to it. "I'm engaged to be married. That's why I'm here."

"I don't... I don't really understand, Brenda, but I know that I'm insanely hungry, so do you mind if I eat while you tell me about it?" I said, grabbing the tray with the sandwich on it, bringing it over as I sat down on one end of the small sofa that was inside my hotel room.

"Not at all, Mister King," she said, moving to sit on the other end of the couch this time. "Eat up!"

I was a little leery, as last time we'd been in this situation, Brenda had given me one of the best blowjobs I'd ever had. While I ate. But this time she was sitting far enough from me that it was clear we weren't going for a repeat performance. "After we had our little tryst, which I must confess I did enjoy a great deal, do you remember what I said to you on my way out?"

"You said I was too old to be your type," I told her in between bites. "Which is completely fair."

"It's very kind of you to omit the latter half, but do you recall it?"

I did, but had felt it impolite to bring up. Since she was asking, however, I felt obliged to answer her. "You said you were working at the hotel hoping to land some wealthy imbecile as a husband. I take it that you did?"

"Oh, no sir," she said, looking ashen for just a moment. "When I went home the next morning, I thought about that, thought about what I'd said, thought about how poorly that reflected on me, but how, no matter how I might have tried to deny it, it was what I'd secretly been hoping for each and every day that I went to work." She looked away from me, as if trapped by the memory of that moment for a long stretch. "It was a rather uncomfortable truth I had been confronted with. When I came back to work for my next shift, I decided, I made a conscious decision, that that wasn't whom I wanted to be, and that I needed to change my fundamental outlook on life, as well as my plans and goals. I started working harder and with more attention to detail. I hadn't been a very good clerk, truth be told, but our encounter had crystallized within me the notion that if I wanted better from my life, I needed to be better in my life."

"Good for you," I said, wolfing down the rest of my club sandwich rapidly, also taking time to pick away at the chips. I'd forgotten to bring the soda over with me, but I decided I could have that afterwards. "And you think that's because of me, because of what we did?"

She nodded nervously. "After our affair, which I should say I enjoyed a great deal, it was almost as though I woke up, as if I had been sleepwalking in my own life for years," she said, wringing her hands together a little bit. "Once I improved my diligence at work, it was almost like the rising tide lifted all boats. I found myself being elevated from desk clerk to shift manager and now to assistant manager of the entire hotel, all within just the span of a year and a half. And about six months after our time together, I met Corey. He's a session musician, a drummer to be exact, and while he doesn't make all that much money - in fact, he's got a second job as a waiter at a restaurant in Piccadilly Circus - but even with all that, he and I just clicked from the very moment we met. We fell madly in love, and about a month ago, well, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. I think it's likely I'll be the breadwinner in the family for most of our lives, but I feel strangely at peace with that. Money isn't everything, and there is no price you can put on happiness. I... I don't think I would've discovered that without our time together, and when I saw you had checked in again, well, I thought I would come by and say thank you, to tell you how much our brief shared experience had changed me, and so much for the better. I don't know why I felt compelled to do to you what I did, or why I said what I said, but in hearing myself speak that buried truth, I learned, and I evolved from that knowledge. So the meal is on the house, sir," she said, standing up, "since I can't offer you another bit of extra service, as much as I did enjoy the last one. It simply wouldn't be right, being unfaithful to my soon-to-be husband, even with how much help you provided me and my mind."

I had finished the sandwich, so I put the mostly empty plate down in the middle of the sofa and then stood up. "I'm glad it helped, and I really don't mind that you don't want to fuck me anymore, Brenda," I told her, offering my arms wide, which she immediately took me up on for a great big hug. "You've got your person now, and I'm happy for you. You take care of him the best you're able, and that'll be thanks enough, okay?"

When she pulled away from me, I realized she was crying a little, but had a very grateful smile on her face as she nodded. "Of course, Mister King, I promise you that I most certainly will. I just fear to think what might have become of me if we hadn't had that strange encounter not so long ago."

"Then think of it no more," I said to her, patting her on the back. "Because the road not traveled is always less interesting than the one we're actually on, no matter how much it pulls on the frayed loose threads of our imagination."

"That's good advice, sir. Thank you. I should let you be. I ought to be getting back to work anyway. I'm using one of my breaks to come here and tell you this," she laughed, pulling away from me, heading back towards the door. "Have a safe flight home."

She opened the door, stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaving me alone in the hotel room.

Harvey's laughing rang through my mind almost like the demented laugh of the Batman villain The Joker, echoing off the inside of my skull, and yet, I didn't really mind.

'Very funny, asshole,' I thought to myself.

Oh god, the look on your face when she walked in the door again, god I wish I had a fucking camera or a recorder or a way to replay the memory back over your eyeballs, because I think I would never ever ever take that off fucking repeat. Thank the goddess I don't have lungs, because holy fuck was that So. Fucking. Funny. That's going in a trophy case in my hall of memories as one of the Top Five Best Jokes I've Ever Pulled Off.

'So you don't have the woman of my dreams lined up for me, I take it?'

No no no, don't worry, don't worry, I got you, I totally got it handled, I promise you. I promised you I was going to do right by you, and I've done my part. But I thought it might help you feel a little bit better if you knew that the people who'd you left in your wake along the way weren't completely fucked over by not being the right match for you.

'You made that happen for Brenda?' I thought at him. 'You made her reevaluate her life?'

...Sort of. It's a little tricky to explain, but generally, whenever I'm letting someone fuck you, I'm comparing mental and emotional energies. The very process of doing that can be pretty weird for most people, and sometimes even a little unsettling, because they're aware of what they did, but they don't really know why they did it, and they also don't know why they aren't bothered by what they've done.

I can't really find someone other than my bearer a completely perfect match based on their short time interacting with whoever's wearing me, but I can help them sort some deeply entrenched shit out that might be keeping them from finding who is a good match for them on their own. Or at least give them a solid starting point for them to fix their issues themselves over the next few months or years. So I do that. As a little bonus service. Puts a bit more good karma into the world.

'What did you do for Brenda?'

She was trapped in that sort of traditional "man brings home the bacon" bullshit that's been so prevalent for so long, but she comes from a relatively poor family, so I guess it's understandable. But once I sort of lifted the notion of her expectations and let her focus on what she actually wanted for herself, she's done much better. I don't know that her partner's a perfect match, but most times in life, you have to learn to settle for good enough, you know what I'm saying?

Outside of the window, there was a heavy shake of thunder, and the flash of lightning caught my eye, making me look over at the window, as the sky opened up and rain began to channel down mercilessly in endless sheets.

'This you?' I thought at Harvey.

Oh sure, the bracelet thought back at me. In addition to being able to bring women to you and make them want you with a nearly unstoppable lust, I have the ability to CONTROL THE WEATHER! ... C'mon. Why are we even talking about this? You're in England and it's a storm. They have them all the damn time. There's an entire industry of British sad sack songs about the rain. You think they need my help in generating more bad weather? As the song goes, get get get get get get over it.

'So when is the love of my life going to show up?'

You're like a damn kid on Christmas morning, man. Just relax. Have your Coke. Maybe swipe one the little bottles of rum from the mini-fridge and mix it in. You can afford to splurge a little bit and it won't hurt to be relaxed for this.

'I'm just trying to plan my night, man. Should I expect soon? Later? Or are you not sure? It's nearly one am and I'm thinking about just going to bed.'

It's like the weather, man. Wait a while, and it'll all work out sooner or later. Within the next few hours or so, I think, although I guess it could be as far off as tomorrow morning.

I glanced at my phone and saw that I had a new confirmation of flight times tomorrow, and it wasn't scheduled until three in the afternoon, which meant staying up a little bit later wouldn't be too bad, but I could also just crash and go to bed and worry about it when whoever it was showed up.

'Then I guess I'm just gonna pack it in and get some sleep, and when she gets here, I suppose I'll get back up again,' I thought at him as I put my bottle of Coke into the fridge, so it would stay cold and I could have it again when whoever it was finally arrived. I also put the room service cart out into the hallway, looking both ways for a sign of Miss Perfect, but no joy.

That's fine, Deke. You'll know when she's here. I sort of doubt you'd be able to sleep through it, and if you tried, I can wake you up if needs be.

'You can, huh? How the hell are you going to do that?'

Suddenly, I felt a sharp electrical shock run up my arm, originating from the bracelet, biting but it passed as quickly as it arrived.

"Ow! Fuck!"

Think that'll wake you up?

'Jesus, yes,' I thought at him. 'I didn't know you could do that.'

There's a lot of things I can do that you don't know about, Deke. Ask me about my magical agenda, or better yet, don't. Anyway, get to bed. The future will be here soon enough.

I stripped down to just my boxers and crawled into bed, pulling the sheets over me. I don't know what it is about London hotels, but they're never warm enough, as if the idea of heat was antithetical to their very core. The fact that the storm raging outside was one of the most intense I'd ever seen wasn't helping put me at ease either. Rain was pelting down in an assault, absolute walls of it sweeping across the window, limiting my vision outside of it so badly that I couldn't even see the airport just half a mile away. No kidding, I've never seen any such unforgiving weather in my life. The one thing I can say is that the sound of the heavy rain actually got sort of soothing, and as apprehensive I was about meeting the love of my life, the rhythmic tapping was enough to relax me enough to drift off to sleep.

I'm not normally one to dream all that much, or at least remember my dreams, but that particular night I remember having a very strange dream about flying over an alien landscape, earth in shades of crimson and scarlet with cyan and cerulean foliage all over the place, feathered wings, mine, lifting me up to see near the horizon an ocean of quicksilver metal rippling and ebbing. A trinary of suns hung in the sky, and while I didn't want to stare into it, I couldn't help myself. Just as it felt like my vision was starting to burn out, I woke up to the sound of a heavy banging on my door, the bottom of someone's fist pounding hard enough to make the door vibrate.

I hopped out of bed and wondered how dressed I should get, but decided to just pull my shirt on and not bother with pants, as I glanced at my phone for the time - 3:45 AM - and then started moving towards the door as the intense pounding started yet again, three strikes, WHAM WHAM WHAM.