Chapter 5

5

D AVID

The following Friday

New York

"That's it?" Julie says, swiping her tablet with her finger and pushing it into her backpack.

"That's pretty much it," I say with a smile before furtively glancing at my watch.

"Having plans for tonight?" she asks, and my eyes meet hers.

She holds my gaze like a warrior.

Unafraid.

Without blinking.

"I might," I say, a knowing smile tickling my lips.

"Please don't tell me it's someone I know," she tosses at me, leaning back in the oversized armchair while I cross my arms over my chest and push back against the sofa.

The hotel room is vast, tastefully furnished, and dimly lit. The cold weather sets a stark contrast to the decadent interior.

It's dark outside, a quiet rain drizzling down the windows. The streetlights pierce the darkness, glowing over the wet sidewalks and piles of rusty leaves.

It's not even seven, and the world looks like it has gone to sleep.

"The girl?" Julie says with a lifted eyebrow when I direct my gaze to her.

"What girl?" I ask, smiling.

A grin colors her gaze.

We had back to back meetings the entire day, and although she's normally not required to attend, she insisted she could help.

She did help and also made an effort to spruce up her appearance.

Her pink hair is brushed back, her eyes are bright, her favorite bulky jewelry replaced by a delicate necklace with a small pendant.

She rocks a pantsuit that makes her look even more fragile.

"Don't you have a plane to catch?" I shoot at her.

"Your driver picks me up in half an hour, so I still have a few minutes to kill."

"How's your aunt?"

She points to my phone.

"You can ask her. She baked your favorite pie last weekend and waited for you. I told her she'd set herself up for disappointment, but she didn't want to believe me. She doesn't know men the way I do," she adds with humor.

I remember how quickly things unraveled last Saturday.

My leaving came sooner than I had planned, and then I ignored my schedule and went to Elizabeth's place at the last moment.

I can't remember much from that morning or the previous night. It's all a blur. A good kind of blur.

She erased everything bad from my memory.

But somehow, I made it on time and left for New York.

Barely made it, actually.

The plane was on the tarmac, ready to leave, while I was a ball of tension.

Not because I was afraid I might miss the plane but because I didn't want to leave.

And that had never happened before. That kind of insidious conflict.

Usually, my life is smooth and predictable because I'm one hundred percent in charge. Well, things have been different lately.

I'm still in charge, yet quite often, I change things around to prioritize this new feeling that I want to be with this new woman.

"I'm sorry she did that. I had no idea she was waiting for me. She should always check with me first."

"No worries. The pie was delicious."

She rubs her stomach.

"Get into my belly…" she adds, amused. "That's all I can say when Miranda cooks or bakes. So, is this about that woman? Elizabeth Fox, right?"

There's no point in playing coy with her.

We're partners in crime.

I nod.

"You invited her here?"

I nod again.

"Is she coming?"

"Supposedly."

"She didn't confirm?"

"She never does, but I got word she's on a plane on her way here."

"Nice."

She ponders something for a second.

"See, this is another great idea," she says.

I don't know what the first great idea was.

"You and her could get a place here."

I laugh.

"That would make for a hell of a secret tryst."

"You could tell everybody you hired her."

She goes silent.

We're both quiet.

"Or you could just hire her," she says, listening to her fierce intuition.

"I don't know if we'll ever get to that––me hiring her-–but she has asked me about your job."

She straightens in her seat, her cheeks aflame.

"My job?" she says, a tense smile on her face.

"Mmm-hmm."

"You're not giving my job to her. That's why it's called my job."

I shrug.

"I don't know. It was an idea," I tease her more, and she gives me a cute chuckle, wagging her finger at me.

"She can't do for you what I can do for you."

I stay silent, and her smile peels off her face.

"Can she?" she murmurs.

I study her for a few more seconds.

"Relax. No one's replacing you. You are irreplaceable. Besides, she can't handle Pam."

Her eyebrows move up in puzzlement.

"Pam? Who is Pam?"

Laughing, I make a dismissive gesture.

"No one. I meant Sabina," I say.

"Boss, you scared the shit out of me. I thought I missed someone. Please, know your ladies. You're going to give me a heart attack."

"No heart attack can mess with someone so cute," I joke.

She wags her finger at me again.

"Flattery won't get you far. Please call Miranda and pay her a visit. The woman keeps baking, and I keep eating your gifts, and look at me now."

I look at her.

"You look like you haven't had a meal in days," I comment.

We both laugh when her phone pings with a notification.

She checks the message, pulling up to her feet.

"The driver is here."

"All right. I'll walk you out."

She slings the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder.

"You want to make sure I leave the premises before your princess arrives."

Buttoning my suit jacket, I say nothing.

Having an inkling that something's different about my silence, she spins around.

"She might truly be your princess," she says, a serious look sliding over her face.

"She's my friend."

"I like that," she says while I show her to the exit.

We leave my hotel suite and take the elevator down. The doors pull close, and her eyes fly to me.

For a few good seconds, she studies me while I evade her gaze.

"I'd love for you to find a woman one day," she says, and I move my eyes to her.

"You're a good woman, Julie. But you know that won't happen."

"Why?"

"Been there, done that."

"Not all the people are the same."

"I won't argue with you on that, but I'm not the same man."

"The same as in…?"

The elevator pulls to a stop, and the doors slide open.

"It's a long story, and you have a plane to catch," I say, inviting her out.

We exit the elevator and head to the lobby.

"I have a feeling you'll never tell me that story."

"Your gut is right."

Smiling, I open the door for her. The driver greets me and rounds the car while Julie and I stop a few feet away from him.

"It's not a good story. And it belongs to the past," I say, taking her bag and sliding it into the back seat. "We'll talk," I add, yet she doesn't move.

"Listen…" she says, moving closer. "I don't know this woman," she utters quietly. "But I like her. There is something about her that I like. It's how she makes you come to life and do stuff you haven't done before. You care a little. You blush a little. There is a kernel of excitement in your eyes. Maybe she's not your princess, but she surely has some power over you. Good power. I'm just saying," she adds in a different voice, pulling away from me. "And she's fun, Boss," she murmurs, a smile curling her lips.

"You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do. I see it here."

She draws a circle with her index finger, pointing to my face.

"You can't wait to see her. And that's huge considering––"

"Go," I say, grinning. "Have a safe flight. And text me when you land. I want to make sure you're all right."

"Cool, Boss. Have a wonderful evening."

Julie's pink hair vanishes behind the tinted window and the car glides away, and I have a feeling that she and Elizabeth should always have someone to protect them.

They both are some of the best things in this world.

DAVID

The Hotel Lobby

Minutes later

"Would you like a drink from the bar, sir, while you're waiting?" the woman asks, ready to take my order.

"Sure. Scotch, neat."

"Coming right up."

She pulls away, heading to the bar, while I relax in the velvet armchair.

The lobby is relatively empty.

People have dinner or nurse their drinks at the bar. A few late guests check in with the receptionist, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary happens.

My drink arrives, and I take a sip before pinning my gaze on the wall of glass in front of me.

Somewhere behind that wall New York City vibrates with life, and good and bad blend into life stories.

I remember when I started to travel to New York with business and found it fascinating. Millions of people going about their lives every day, and the smidgen of reprieve experienced in the few pockets of solitude in the evenings.

At a bar, in a restaurant, or in a hotel room.

Working away from home felt like having a double life. In all respects, I was leading a double life, and I wasn't proud of myself.

It was a necessity before I started to like it.

I found so much peace in a lonely dinner, the body of a stranger, and waking up in an impersonal hotel room alone.

I had money. I had power. And a ton of grief to live through while letting it consume me.

Even back then, I knew I'd made a mistake.

I knew I should've done things differently and not rushed into a marriage out of revenge or anger.

It made no sense, especially since, in the end, my heart was still broken, and my life was still empty.

The path I was on was still paved with pain.

I'd known nothing back when my life had blown up, and my reaction was on par with how fast my existence had unraveled.

I hurt so bad, the force twisting and charring my insides pushing me forward at a dizzying speed, making me disregard the consequences.

Oh… The bittersweet times of the early days when you expect life to be fair and trust and loyalty to last a lifetime.

There was so much to be learned, but knowledge came too late.

Eventually, things came full circle, and at that point, divorce became inevitable.

Things hadn't worked between us for some time, but my then wife was very much like me.

She wanted a good deal and she hated losing.

Neither of us was ready to make amends.

And we still have a bitter taste in our mouths from our shared experience.

Making money the most important factor in our marital union only made things worse.

I'm glad it's all behind us.

My marriage was akin to serving time, and in a sense, that's exactly what it was.

There was a price to pay for not being able to process my pain any other way and being on a path of self-destruction.

‘ Stay away from people who hurt,' my mother used to say. ‘ They inflict the worst pain onto others.'

She was right.

My mother was right.

When all was said and done, there wasn't any pain left, only a persistent longing that hasn't quite abandoned me yet and the inability to want more than I already have.

Once I did the things I've done, I couldn't believe I had anything valuable to offer.

I still don't and can't fathom anything that could make me change my beliefs.

The cars keep pulling up in front of the hotel, the sight familiar to a fault.

I've gotten so used to living in luxury hotels that I don't know if I will ever entertain the idea of spending my time in a different kind of place.

I empty my glass and lean back into the darkness, where I sit and watch the world go by when a limousine slowly rolls to the entrance.

My heart beats faster, throwing me for a loop.

What the hell is that?

I straighten up and check my phone.

This must be her. There can't be anyone else.

I'll be damn.

No one has affected me the way she does.

I rise from my seat and slowly walk to the glass wall, a pang of excitement and anticipation spinning in my chest.

It's like I am about to witness the arrival of a royal.

Frankly, I don't know what to expect.

We only talked a couple of times. Brief, pragmatic, soulless conversations.

No emotions.

No fluff.

She told me she'd come to visit me. I hadn't expected to hear anything different, to be honest.

And then I gave her the travel information.

The driver stops the car, exits it quickly, and opens an umbrella.

And that's my cue.

I'm taking it from here, but before doing that, I stall for a moment as the door opens and sexy red heels connect to the pavement.

The woman wearing a beautiful white trench and a classy black dress, her red hair brushed back and rolling down in rings the size of my fist, straightens out of her seat.

"What happened to her?" I murmur to myself, not denying myself the pleasure to take her in.

I've never seen something so beautiful in my life. Everything works for her this evening, but this is more than her physical appearance. There is freedom in her looks, a warm, calm smile on her lips, and confidence I've never seen in a woman.

She looks like someone with nothing to lose, while I feel like everything is on the line for me.

Finally, I clear my throat and head in that direction, my pulse racing, my shoulders pulled back, my frame hosting delicious tension I can't wait to put into her.

Some things are meant to kill us day by day. Minute by minute. And I hope she's one of those things.