Forever Your Concierge

by Jessica Ingro

  I made myself semi-presentable as the building's valet made his way to our car parked at the curb, knowing that no matter what I did anyone would be able to tell I had been crying. Travis hustled us inside, and I was thankful for that small gesture because right then I was desperate for a place that felt warm and safe.

  Inside our bedroom, I stripped down and crawled into bed. The frame shook as I began crying again. Travis climbed in behind me and molded his body to mine. I felt his tears as they dripped down his face onto my neck, and together we grieved for the loss of something that we had both wanted so badly.

  "I know you probably won't want to hear this right now, but we need to remember that next week we could go in there and little Juliana here could be doing well and have a strong and steady heartbeat," he whispered as he splayed his hand across my belly. The last few days Travis had chosen to believe we were having a little girl, so whenever he talked about the baby he called her by the name we had chosen.

  "I'm not sure I can handle it if she isn't," I admitted.

  "Of course you can. I'll be there for you every step of the way. I will always hold you together when you fall apart, Maya."

  "I don't deserve you," I croaked. I felt like a complete failure knowing that I couldn't give Travis the one thing he desperately wanted.

  "Yes, you do."

  "I don't deserve this baby either. It's God punishing me. I know it."

  "You deserve this baby more than anyone I know. You're going to be the most loving, selfless mother. There's no one else I'd want to have my children."

  I didn't want to hear his words of kindness. I knew that regardless of what he said, I wasn't any good for him. The last few months had been nothing but one big headache for him. And now it was my fault that his dream was being crushed. I was completely worthless. Ignoring his soft murmurs, I focused on that fact instead.

  "Thank you," I eventually murmured after the room was plunged into darkness and I was all out of tears.

  "You never need to thank me for loving you," he whispered and pressed a kiss to the back of my head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "You adapted to having a shadow quite well," my bodyguard, Cassandra, noted when I came out of the bathroom stall at the store we had stopped in for a client.

  "You think?" I looked at her through the mirror as I washed my hands.

  "You're one of the only clients I've had that hasn't either complained all day or tried to shake me," she shrugged and leaned back against the wall. Cassandra was more masculine than feminine, her muscles defined beneath her clothing. She wore no makeup, and her long brown hair was pulled back into a sensible ponytail. Every now and then, I caught her looking at something girlie or reading a fashion magazine, and it reminded me that she was womanly.

  "Go me!" I shouted, pumping my fists in the air and making her laugh.

  We had stepped out of the bathroom and started walking through the store when my phone rang. Digging it out of my purse, I looked at the display and saw Travis was calling. It was his fifth call that day. While he had always communicated with me regularly, he was taking it to a whole new level since the ultrasound the day before. I tried not to let it bother me, but honestly, the whole situation bothered me.

  Underneath my happy exterior, I was becoming a dark mess. I couldn't help but feel inadequate and inferior knowing I would most likely lose this child. And the worst part was, a small part of me was beginning to hope it would just happen so that I could move on. Whenever I thought that way, I felt even more horrible with myself. It was becoming a nasty cycle.

  "Hey," I greeted him.

  "Hey. How're you feeling?" I rolled my eyes and put my hand over the receiver.

  "Let's head down the block to the Shultzman's to pick up their dry cleaning," I whispered to Cassandra, who nodded and proceeded out the door, keeping close watch of me as we walked down the sidewalk.

  "I'm fine. How's your day?" I attempted to change the subject.

  "Shitty. I'm ready to go home."

  "Only a few more hours," I noted.

  "Yeah. I talked to Grant today," he informed me.

  "Oh?" My steps faltered as we neared the Shultzman's building.

  "Yeah. He met with Ashton again after the video debacle. He tried telling them we traced the IP address that sent the video to Ashton, but they didn't play into it. Grant said he sat there with a shit-eating grin on his face through the whole meeting. I don't think I've ever heard Grant so desperate to do bodily harm to someone before. It's a novel thought. I just wish he wasn't having it because of what that asshole is putting you through."

  "Tell me about it. It feels like one thing after another. I'm over it all."

  "I'll wait here," Cassandra told me as we entered the building. I nodded at her and took the stairs so I wouldn't lose my call with Travis since the elevator in that building was notorious for dropping calls. It was only to the third floor so it didn't take long.

  "We'll make it through it. One way or another, Maya. I promise."

  "I know. I love you for trying to make me feel better. It's just... I need to go through these emotions. It's hard," I choked at the end of my sentence grateful we were over the phone and not face to face where I would surely break down in front of him.

  "Sweetheart," he murmured in the phone.

  "I'm fine," I assured him, but I wasn't really convinced I was.

  "You sure there isn't anything I can do for you? You're feeling okay?" Travis went on.

  "Yeah. Please stop worrying about me." I opened the door to the apartment and headed for the kitchen.

  "I'll stop worrying when I'm finally able to hold you tonight." That got a tiny smile from me.

  "That reminds me. I won't be home until late tonight."

  "Oh that's right. It's your first night teaching. Break a leg." His smooth voice washed over me through the phone.

  "Thanks. Don't worry about dinner. I'll grab something while I'm out." I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear so I could pick up the dry cleaning from the kitchen table.

  "I'm being paged to a meeting. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

  "Love you too." I ended the call and stuffed my phone in my purse before heading out the door of my client's house. I took the stairs again and bounded out into the entryway.

  The building was old and didn't have a concierge or doorman, but it was a tight knit building where everyone knew everyone... and their business.

  "Hi, Mrs. Demarco," I called out to the elderly woman as she came through the door. She lived next door to the Shultzmans and always gave me cookies at Christmas time. She was a sweet woman who packed a punch in the attitude department. When it wasn't aimed at you, it was actually rather fun to watch her chew someone a new asshole.

  "Hello, Maya. You look rather lovely today." Her hoarse voice from years of smoking made me internally cringe.

  "As do you. Sorry I can't stay and chat, but I'm late for a very important date." I shook the bag of dry cleaning in front of me and laughed.

  Heading out onto the street with my trusty bodyguard following close behind, I breathed in the cooler air and decided I needed to keep my mood positive. Instead of focusing on every little pain or twinge in my body, wondering if it meant a miscarriage, I focused on the sights and smells of the city I loved so much. Each car horn honking, curse word shouted, and street cart smelly concoction was a balm to my soul. There was nothing like getting lost in a city of eight million people to help you forget your troubles.

  After dropping off the dry cleaning, we stopped at a sandwich shop, and I grabbed a chicken Caesar salad and a cup of broccoli and cheese soup. I ate slowly, not wanting to upset my stomach. Cassandra, however, mauled her panini like it was her last meal and they didn't give her much time for it. I joked that she could put most men to shame, which caused her to smile proudly.

  We continued to sit and make small talk since we had an hour before I needed to be at the theater in Brooklyn where I was going to help my friend, Cora
l, with her class. I was both excited and nervous about taking this new path. I really wanted it to work out. Acting had always been a passion of mine and even if I hadn't done it in a while, I was sure it was like riding a bike. Once I got up on the stage, it would all come back to me.

  I hailed a cab to take us to Brooklyn and watched the city streets as they passed by. Heading over the Brooklyn Bridge, I looked out at the dark, choppy waters and zoned out as best I could. It was a trick I had always used before going on stage. It was a way to calm my nerves and get myself into the right headspace. Luckily, Cassandra stayed silent as well, letting me get into my head.

  Inside the dank theater, the musty smell reminded me of some of the smaller stages I performed on. It felt like home. The one place where you knew you belonged. Where everything seemed in perspective. Where you shed your inhibitions and shined.

  "Coral!" I called out to my friend as she opened a door at the far end of the hallway I was in.

  "Maya!" She greeted me enthusiastically and tugged me into a hug. At just under six feet, Coral towered over me. She had an exotic look thanks to her Tahitian mother that made her irresistible. What drew me to her when we first met at NYU was her spirit. Whenever she was on stage, she moved you. It didn't matter if she was playing a palm tree or had a lead role. She was a true star.

  "Thank you so much for letting me help out." Coral released me and steered me into the room we were to be using. A quick look back, told me that Cassandra had blended into the scenery and was watching over me without anyone knowing. I turned to Coral and focused on what I had to do, putting thoughts of Ashton and bodyguards out of my head.

  "Please. I should be thanking you. I've never known another actor who could step into a role as quickly as you can. Tonight's lesson is all about spontaneity and how important it is when going on auditions. Your expertise will be invaluable," she gushed.

  We both sat in a pair of plastic chairs circa 1969 as we waited for the students. As the minutes ticked on, we caught up on each other's lives and I felt a small twinge of envy at the Broadway role she was going on a second audition for. Leaving acting had been my choice, but some days I wondered if it was the right one.

  The room filled up around seven o'clock with just over a dozen students. They ranged in age from sixteen to thirty, and their experience was just as diverse.

  Coral led the class, letting me hang back and observe. Cramping in my lower abdomen began about ten minutes into the class, but I chose to ignore it. There was nothing I could do about it right then, so I chose to focus instead on Coral's leadership over the students and the little nuances to her teaching that stood out. It was good research for when the time came I had to employ my own technique for teaching.

  Once the class broke down into smaller groups so they could pretend they were auditioning, I got to dig in and get my feet wet.

  Working with the first group—two women and a teenage boy—I was in my element. I picked up one of the scripts and the boy and I began our faux audition. Stopping in between takes, I instructed him on where he'd be better served putting more emotion.

  With all my attention on what we were doing, it was easy to let all the troubles of the outside world wash away. For those precious moments, I was someone else. I didn't have to think about miscarriages, infertility, or psycho ex-boyfriends. I didn't have to feel dark and twisted up inside. I could just be... and it was liberating and freeing.

  "But Mom!" He whined perfectly like a spoiled child. "You promised me I could have the car tonight."

  "Leonard—" I scolded him but didn't get any further when the heavy wood door creaked open and a stout man with thinning hair entered. The room quieted down as he made his way through the small crowd of people, stopping in front of Coral. As he whispered into her ear, I saw her face begin to redden. I knew from past experience, she was ready to blow a gasket thanks to whatever he was saying.

  Coral's eyes darted over to me, and my stomach sank at the look of disappointment there. Dread filled my veins knowing whatever happened next was not going to be good. Call it intuition, but I had a feeling Ashton had something to do with the way the man was now angrily pointing at me.

  Pissed off that my bubble was now shattered, I chose to get the whole scene over with and marched over to their huddle, interjecting myself.

  "This is unacceptable, Coral. I will not have my company's name sullied by letting her instruct here," the man was saying when I joined them.

  "Maybe we should hear what she has to say about it," Coral recommended, but her tone didn't signify that she felt it would make a difference.

  "I have a feeling this has to do with me. Maybe you could fill me in instead of talking about me like I'm not even in the room." I crossed my arms defensively and narrowed my eyes.

  "Yes. Let's take this discussion to my office." Coral and I followed the man out and to a room on the other end of the building. The placard on the wooden desk that dominated the small room read Bob Willows.

  "Ms. Harris," Bob began and I quickly corrected him. "It's Mrs. Hamilton."

  He nodded and continued. "Mrs. Hamilton, it has been brought to my attention that you are in violation of several ethics that we in this business take very seriously."

  "I'm not sure I'm following. What exactly have I done wrong? I haven't even actively been in the business for the last several years."

  "Hear him out, Maya," Coral tried to keep the peace at the harsh tone in my voice.

  "Fine. Please explain this to me, Mr. Willows." If he wanted to use formal titles, so could I.

  "I received this package just a few hours ago. You can understand how taken aback I was by the pictures and videos highlighting not only your penchant for sleeping with casting directors but also your history with fellow acting students." He gestured towards a thumb drive along with several photos. My stomach clenched, and I had to actively fight the urge to purge my dinner right there on Bob's desk where photographic evidence of my time with Ashton sat taunting me.

  "This is all a misunderstanding," I muttered, my eyes never leaving the photos. It was like a horrible train wreck and even though I didn't want to look, I couldn't help but not.

  "Are you saying that isn't you?" Bob asked incredulously. I fought rolling my eyes and giving him a dirty look. Even if I was stupid enough to try to deny it, there was no way anyone would believe it wasn't me considering the close up angle on a few of the pictures.

  "No. What I'm saying is those pictures weren't taken with my consent."

  "But you still allowed yourself in these compromising positions," Coral argued. She might as well have slapped me across the face. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Just because the evidence looked damning, didn't mean it was.

  "I realize that, Coral," I gritted out. "My point is I never slept with anyone to further my career other than the one time I allowed myself to be sucked into that garbage."

  "And the students that you exchanged oral favors with? Are you saying that wasn't done so that they could get into class with Mr. Ashton Moore?"

  "I'm saying Ashton Moore forced me to do all those things," I yelled. I was so over this inquisition.

  Coral gasped next to me, and Bob looked like he couldn't believe I would insinuate such a thing about the darling and perfect Ashton Moore.

  "Even if that were true—" Bob started, and I finally snapped under the weight of all the drama swirling in my life.

  "Fuck Ashton! Fuck you, Bob," I sneered and turned to Coral. "And fuck you. I thought you were my friend." I stomped towards the door and swung it open so hard it hit the wall behind it with a thud. "You can't judge someone based on what some photo says."

  Realizing the incriminating photos were still sitting there, I stomped back to them and snatched them off the desk. "You, sir, cannot keep these. I'll be giving them to my lawyer."

  "Maya, wait!" Coral chased after me. I stormed into the classroom and grabbed my coat and purse, ignoring her. On my way to the door to leave she grabbe
d my arm. "Talk to me."

  "I said all there is to say. You didn't even stick up for me. You automatically assumed I was guilty of doing those heinous things. Do you really think I would have slept with whomever I could in order to make it in this industry? Do you think that little of me?" My voice was raised and people were staring, but I didn't give a shit. It felt good to unload on someone. Cathartic even.

  Coral raised her chin and gave me a cold stare. "I know Ashton and I know he would never force you to do something so despicable. And to have you trying to ruin his reputation is just wrong."

  I didn't even bother to argue the point. It wouldn't have mattered. She was just another bridge burned thanks to that evil monster. I gave her one last pitying look and walked out the door.

  * * *

  "Is Grant here?" I asked when I found Travis in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine from the chiller.

  "He is. He said you texted him to meet us here. Care to explain?" He raised his eyebrow in a questioning manner.

  "I only want to do this once," I told him and went in search of Grant. I found him standing in Travis' office looking out the window at the snow falling gracefully outside. Normally it would have been a calming sight for me, but there was a storm brewing inside me that was a stark contrast to the peacefulness of the snow.

  "Grant," I greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. Pulling the pictures from my purse, I tossed them on the desk and watched as the two men looked at them.

  "You have got to be shitting me." Travis' jaw ticked so hard I was surprised it didn't break. I felt the overwhelming urge to wrap him in my arms and soothe him but tamped down the desire.

  "Explain," Grant barked at me.

  "Seems these were delivered to the man who runs the theater I was teaching at tonight. You can see why he wouldn't want someone of my caliber working at his fine establishment. He basically called me a whore," I finished with a raised voice. I wasn't hurt by this, I was plain old angry. If I could I would have hunted Ashton down and kicked him in his balls with my pointiest pair of shoes.