The Universe of Discretion: Legend

Holy shit! Was that Bartholomew Stone?

The guy everyone called the “Whore of Hargrave”?

His reputation was practically legendary. Rumor had it he’d slept his way through half the student body—and even some of the faculty—at one of the country’s most prestigious universities.

To rack up numbers like that, Bart didn’t discriminate. As long as someone could handle his larger-than-life personality, he could charm just about anyone into his bed.

I’d seen pictures of him before, but I never thought I’d actually see him in person. It felt like spotting a celebrity.

I was tempted to run up and ask for an autograph, but instead, I just stood there, watching him walk toward the gates.

“Due to heavy rainfall, all flights have been grounded until further notice. Please visit your airline counter for more information. Thank you for your understanding.”

Motherfucker! How could I be stuck in an airport the day before July Fourth?

If it weren’t for Galatea, I probably would’ve lost my mind waiting in line at the airline counter.

“Sir, I can’t predict the future, but I can tell you that your scheduled flight is canceled. Here’s a voucher for a hotel room.”

“That’s it? A voucher?” I asked quietly, feeling defeated. It wasn’t her fault, and I knew she was just doing her job.

“The airline cannot be held responsible for unforeseen weather circumstances due to a tropical storm,” she said, reciting the standard line she’d probably said a hundred times already.

“All right. Thanks,” I said, resigned. I reached for the voucher.

Then, to my surprise, she glanced over my shoulder and whispered, “I have a friend who works at the gate-side airport hotel. It’ll be fully booked soon, but I can call in a favor and get you a reservation.”

“Why would you do that for a random stranger?” I asked, genuinely shocked by her kindness.

“Because you’re the only person who didn’t scream at me tonight,” she said, picking up the phone.

The hotel’s reception area was almost as chaotic as the airline counters. I waited quietly for my turn, distracting myself by reading my story.

I was almost at the front when the lady ahead of me was told the hotel was fully booked. She instantly went into “Full Metal Bitch” mode, practically attacking the receptionist with her handbag.

Chaos erupted as the news spread through the crowd behind me. I took advantage of the distraction and quickly checked in.

Moments after signing the registration form, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Please don’t think I’m crazy, but I’m desperate for a room. I simply can’t sleep on a bench.”

Bart freaking Stone was talking to me!