The motel sat just off the highway stared right back at you, its neon sign flickering intermittently, spelling out "Sunset Motel" in faded, peeling letters.

You two had been forced to drive all day, summoned urgently to attend a business conference with a critical client.

When you entered the building near the conference venue, you two quietly assessed the last-minute motel. The reality of the situation sank in, like sharp ice-cold water. The law firm's choice of lodging was anything but luxurious. The hallway leading to the rooms was dimly lit, probably the ugliest yellow walls-and-carpet combo you’ve ever seen.

The lawyer visibly appeared in dire need of rest. Yet, as you cautiously nudged open the creaking door to your assigned room, his weariness disappeared in a flash, replaced by a surge of awareness.

Thin walls, sound of muffled conversations and the occasional thud of doors closing suffused within the confined space. The water pipes had mold all over them, the room was fit for two.

And then, the inevitable realization dawned upon you both— there was only one bed to share in the discomforts of the night.