A football was just millimeters beyond the grasp of its intended target’s fingertips. As a bullet pass from a former college quarterback, it was traveling fast and in a tight spiral when it ricocheted off the surface of the pool. When it touched down to earth the second time, it collided with Neil’s butt. Just before the collision Neil was fast asleep, but not after.

Leaping off the poolside lounge chair, Neil was ready to take on the opposing army. The fellow in the pool who’d missed the pass was yelling for Neil to toss him the ball while the ex-quarterback on the other side of the pool was cracking up. In a moment of fury, Neil got the ball and booted it as hard as he could in the direction of the laughing quarterback, but it sailed way over his head and deep into the trees that lined the property.

“Thanks, man,” said the none-too-pleased fellow in the pool.

“Don’t mention it,” Neil replied. He’d recovered enough to feel some degree of guilt. He fumbled for his watch. He’d fallen asleep somewhere around three, after expecting Jennifer to appear at any moment. He’d left several messages on her room’s voicemail. The fact that she’d not shown up was beginning to scare him.

“Four-forty,” he said out loud. He was shocked. He grabbed his stuff, put on his robe, and headed indoors. As he passed the workout room, he took a look: no Jennifer. When he got on the regular hotel elevator he asked for floor nine. He wanted to check her room before changing out of his bathing suit.

When he arrived at room 912, he rang the bell, pounded on the door, and shook the doorknob without waiting for a response. He put his head to the door. “That’s it,” he said out loud when he heard nothing.

Descending to his own room, Neil threw on his clothes. When he was fully dressed, he headed for the front desk and asked to see a manager. Typical of the Amal Palace Hotel service, a manager appeared almost by magic. “Good afternoon, sir. I am a guest service officer. My name is Sidharth Mishra. How can I be of assistance?”

“My girlfriend, Jennifer Hernandez, in room nine twelve, was supposed to sleep in today,” Neil said urgently, “but this is ridiculous. It’s now after five, and she doesn’t respond to my calling or pounding on her door.”

“I’m very sorry, sir. Let us try to call.” Sidharth snapped his fingers at a woman sitting at one of the check-in desks. “Damini, would you mind seeing if you get a response in nine twelve.”

“Has she ever done anything like this in the past?” Sidharth questioned Neil, while Damini called.

“Not to me she hasn’t,” Neil said.

“If there’s no answer, we’ll head right up there.”

“I appreciate it,” Neil said.