Wednesday, May 11, 2011

A Diving In Moment

I guess I just need to dive in. Research as I go. I'm wondering if readers really care how the subjects get from point A to point B. It seems easier for the group to just magically arrive at the destination. I have a habit of getting lost in the unnecessary details.
Day 1 – Travel
Travel days were always the worst, in Drew’s experience. While the idea of the destination was romantic and exciting, the reality of getting to the destination was less than glamorous.  She counted on a guarantee of no sleep until the first night in the destination hotel while she waited hand and foot on her tour guests.  The flight attendants had given her sympathetic and knowing looks. Once at the hotel in Irkutsk, Drew gratefully handed over hostess duties to Natasha, her contact. And Natasha had not failed to impress. With her blonde curls, dazzling smile of tiny, perfectly straight teeth, and charming Russian accent, the men in the group practically fell over themselves to help her help them.  (X1) immediately had a complaint, but Natasha was on it.  All eight guests were now comfortably installed in their rooms.
As she completed her final personal walk through of the hotel, amenities and grounds, she let out a sigh of relief as she headed to the elevator and the promise of at least a few hours of rest.
“Oh! Excuse me, um, eesveeneetyeh,” she said as she collided with a bear of a man.
He grabbed her shoulders to steady her as they both regained their balance. “No, excuse me. I wasn’t paying attention. You alright?” He smiled and shook his head at the situation and then held the elevator door open to allow her to step in first.
“Business or pleasure?” she inquired as they selected their floors.
“Business. Always business these days, it seems. You?”
“Same. Well, I hope you find time to at least lay eyes on the Lake,” Drew said as they stopped at his floor.
“The lake is actually a main component of my business, so that’s a plus. Good night.”
As she settled in her room, and poured the already steeping Russian Caravan blend into a waiting cup, she mused on what type of business he did. He was decidedly not corporate material.  Fisherman? Lumberjack?   
Drew sipped the tea through a coarse, brown sugar cube held between her front teeth. When in Rome…
She decided he would probably do an excellent job of chopping wood, and she wouldn’t mind watching.  Before collapsing into bed, she sent off a quick text to her assistant using her Blackberry and one to Michael on the “burner” to let them know of her safe and fairly uneventful arrival.