Retrace

Chapter 4

Nia

"I can't thank you enough for this opportunity, Mrs. Perry. " I smile at the older lady with the plaid, lilac suit. She studies me with kind eyes. "I'm thrilled to start teaching at your studio, and I can't wait to meet the girls, " I add, genuinely thrilled. She nods in response.

"Make sure to bring your own music, and we'll provide the rest. " She writes something with a thin, gold pen in her floral journal. "Some of them might be less. . .ahem, " she lightly coughs, "behaved. " She raises her eyes to me.

"That's fine, I'm sure I'll manage. Nothing like a bit of a challenge to make life interesting, " I say and inwardly hate my statement when reflected on my private life. The last thing I want is any sort of complication or drama. I'm done with that. I don't have any strength left in me to deal with anything that's remotely emotional. I've already been subjected to much more than I could ever handle.

"It's best to be here about ten minutes before your class starts. I'll be with you in case you need any assistance. " A subtle way of telling me that she'll be assessing my first lesson.

"That's kind of you, thank you, " I answer and she gracefully stands up, letting me know our time has come to an end. Everything about the lady before me tells me that she used to be a dancer, from her airy motions to her elegant posture. She sees me to the door and wishes me a pleasant evening. I wait for the glass door to close behind me before letting my lips stretch into a broad smile. It's been a long time since I've been this thrilled about something. I can hardly contain my excitement. I button the three buttons of my camel-colored wool coat, lift up the lapel, and secure the white cashmere scarf around my neck. I know that in local weather standards this doesn't count as a cold evening but it is to me. For a tropical climate native, this is borderline torment.

~~~

"Hello, " I greet the clerk at the hotel's reception.

"Good evening, miss. " He grins at me too lavishly. "How may I help you? "

"I'd like to check in. The reservation should be under Nia Mitchell. " I prefer to go with my mom's maiden name. Somehow, with my fresh start, using my real last name just doesn't seem right. Having a sense of being watched, I look out of the corner of my eye at the older gentleman in an expensive suit who blatantly checks me out. The receptionist's voice brings my attention back to him.

"Here you go, Miss Mitchell. You'll be staying in room 255, which is on the second floor. The elevators are to your right. " He gestures with his hand to said direction.

"Thank you. " I take the offered bundle that holds a key card. I pull my carry-on's handle up and turn on my heels. A hand on my shoulder stops me from taking another step. I turn back to the picture of vanity in the suit. He hands me a business card, held between two fingers, and winks. A room number is written across one side. The only thing I can really see is the shinning gold band on his finger. I force a sweet smile and inch closer to him.

"Wow. . ." I feign a girlie giggle. "Can I ask for a small favor though? " I add in a low, Happy birthday Mr. President voice. His eyes light as he leans toward me with a smug grin. "Can you please add your wife's number to the back of the card, so I'll be able to call her and tell her what a treasure of a husband she's got? " He flinches, and curses something under his breath, not so polished any more. I need to kill the urge to both kick him in his straying chub and flip him off. Asshole.

I take a step closer toward the mirror in the elevator, checking my chapped, reddened lips. This wind is not something that I see myself getting used to anytime soon. I clear smudged mascara from under my hazel eyes, combing my fingers through my long, straight hair. A thought about how my mom calls my dark hair silk sneaks to my mind and the familiar feeling of good mixed with ill surfaces, making my heart twinge. I contemplate whether to call home but decide it's too soon. They know I've arrived safely and that should do for now.

I throw the room a fleeting glance, leave the carry-on by the bed after getting out my purple toiletries bag, and hurry to the shower. I let the warm water stream while getting undressed. I've been looking forward to this shower the entire day. Two more days. Two more days until my own place, my own shower, my own little balcony. As steam starts to cover the glass door, I get under the water, close my eyes, and let the calming warmth wash the day away.