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"...Marci flipped the switch to lower her roof, latched it to the windshield, raised the windows, locked the car and set the alarm with her key fob. As she slung her handbag over her shoulder and walked along the inn's parking lot sidewalk.
Marci thought about her friend, Sarah is certainly insensitive in making me park away from the inn entrance, and her incredible libido is a gem where the opposite sex is concerned. All it takes is a scent of some aftershave or a wafting virile pheromone, to hook my friend Sarah. That must be the theater arts crowd mentality. If she were more like me, stable and level headed; life would be more tranquil.
After walking the parking lot's length with her travel bag on one shoulder and a large catchall valise over the other arm, Marci stepped into the inn's foyer, to take a deep breath of cool conditioned air. That was refreshing enough but the sight of him was wonderful, as in I wonder to whom, this handsome head belongs. After experiencing the parking lot's June afternoon heat, Marci was more than refreshed by seeing the inn manager, with his blond wavy hair curled up on his head as he sat behind the counter; as he rose up and revealed more of himself, Marci breathed a quiet, "Hello."
Drawing up to his full six-two height, with a very-crisp English accent, he said, "Well hello Miss; are you staying with us at the Humboldt Inn today."
Marci was enamored from the start, she drunk in all of his good looks and thought to herself, I'd stay with you my dreamboat Brit, forever and a day if you just lead me to love; don't say a thing just lead on; I am yours.
Then, she snapped out of her fantasy, and said, "Oh, hello, my name's Marci Pârfait; and I have a reservation for two for this weekend and most of next week, we called it in last Friday from Agerstone College. My roommate at the will be Sarah Davidson."
Marci quickly forgot the heat of that walk down the parking lot and her frustration with Sarah. The inn manager and concierge was a slim thirtyish-type with a crisp clean-shaven appearance, and a very efficient appearing demeanor. He greeted her with an engaging smile, looked for her name in his reservationbooking log and then with a crisp, British accent said, "Welcome Miss Pârfait my name is Jones, Richard Crawford-Jones, I'm the Humboldt Inn day manager."
"Yes, how do you do Mister Jones?" The heat of the day brought up some perspiration to her brow but what really stroked her emotional fire was standing right across from her. She was instantly smitten, and from all appearances, Marci's case of infatuation was far beyond being a 'Groupie Contest Winner'. As she was captured body and mind, as she thouht, where in Heaven has the Humboldt Inn discovered you, in a page-three glossy of the latest 'Mansquire Magazine?' And who had the nerve to stick you all the way up here in Humboldt County; although, I'm not a girl to question my luck.
Then, with a warm and becoming voice, Marci said, "It is so very nice for to you to meet me…I mean for me to meet you…I heard great things about the Humboldt Inn on the Trip Advisor website but, yes indeed? I really like the 4.8, excellent reviews they gave you…I mean…your inn."
"Yes, Miss Parfait, It is very nice to make your acquaintance as well. We have your reservation right here; it is a single room with two single beds. You'll find them very comfortable as they have our latest feather foam toppings."
"I am impressed Mr. Jones, with the grounds and your layout…I mean the inn's layout. Is the air conditioning off? I'm getting deliciously warm just standing here."
"Are you alright Miss? You seem a bit done in as they say; have you been hiking about this afternoon?"
"Well, I was sitting in an open-top sports car for a couple hours driving up and, I did walk the length of your lovely parking lot in the post-noon heat; that might have done it. Could I have some water, please..."
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