by Carol May
Standing in an empty room, I manage to mumble “Alright” to his retreating back.
In a moment, he is gone. Returning to the chair, taking a deep breath, I sit back down. Staring into space, I am attempting to pull myself together before I exit this room. What in the world has just happened? I came here to confront him, to hurt him but once again I seem to be the one that is hurting. A gentle knock on the door jerks me back to reality. The door slowly opens and a friendly face appears. Melinda, Houston’s Miami assistant, steps into the room asking, “Ms. Jensen are you alright?”
“Yes, I am fine, thank you Melinda. How have you been?”
“Fine Ma’am. Thank you for asking. This room is vacant all afternoon, stay as long as you need. That was Mr. Donovan’s directions as he stepped onto the elevator.”
Taking a deep breath, I meet her kind eyes, saying, “Thank you. I will stay just a few minutes longer and then I will be on my way.”
Nodding her head, “That is fine. If you need anything, just pick up the phone and the girl out front will take care of you.”
She turns to leave the room just as I ask, “Can you answer something for me?”
“If I can, I will be happy to Ma’am.”
Thinking how to phrase this question, I decide there is really no diplomatic way to ask. So, here goes. “Can you tell me when Mr. Donovan arrived in Miami?”
“Sure, that is easy. Actually, I have no idea when he arrived in Miami but I can tell you, this is his first morning in the office. Will there be anything else?”
That is not what I expected to hear. I respond with, “No, there is nothing else.”
Sitting here, attempting to evaluate the situation, I understand that I am not in a place to go back to Supreme Corporate Travel. I am not sure if I ever want to see that back stabbing bitch ever again. Deciding to head back to Dade 303, I exit the office and building discretely. Standing on the sidewalk, I think back to the first time I was here. That was the day I met Houston Donovan. How my life has changed since then. Not only has my life changed, I have. The metamorphosis of one Charli Jensen has been a very difficult road. I thought my feelings for Houston were disappearing. That maybe the nights filled with heart breaking memories could be replaced with new memories. I suppose the joke is on me.
Chapter 27
I retreat to 303 to be alone or at least that is what I thought I wanted. After entering the penthouse, I realize that I don’t want to be here either. Changing from my office clothes into a pair of turquoise crop pants, flats and a black and turquoise sheer top I head out once more with no particular destination in mind. A thought flashes that I might head out to the abandoned zoo site that I generally enjoy but decide that doesn’t feel right either. Crossing the building foyer, I catch a glimpse of my self in one of the side mirrors that adorn the space. Stopping and staring at myself I quickly decide what I need is simply a day for myself. A Charli day that doesn’t focus on a man, the broken relationship with Lana or any type business. I can’t deny that the extra time we have been putting into Supreme Corporate Travel has paid off. We have landed some larger accounts that have me excited.
Originally, I planned to take a taxi but decided the thoughts of driving sound pretty good. The defensive moves that I am sure I will have to make will help me with some of my anger issues or at least I hope they will. Pulling out of the parking garage, I head to the freeway. Freeway? I still think that is a funny term for what we call an interstate back home. Since, I am not back home I go with calling it a freeway. Smiling, I head north. Once I find my cruising speed, which is way above the actual speed limit, I push that little cruise button, and go. When I say go, I mean I really go. Why not? I don’t have anything in Miami keeping me there. Deciding to 95 up to West Palm Beach I shave about thirty minutes off what usually takes about two hours. Before pulling out of the gas station parking I stopped at to refuel myself and the McCann, I do an internet search for things to do here. I found just the place but unfortunately the operating hours for the wildlife sanctuary doesn’t give me enough time to visit. Making a mental note of the place I promise myself I will return another time. Pulling up a map of my location, I decide to simply head back but not on the interstate. Chuckling just a little when I correct myself, “Charli, it is a freeway here not an interstate. Remember that.” I drive over to A1A which is “the scenic drive” in Florida. It stretches all the way from the Keys to Georgia. My drive here helped me release some aggression. Hopefully, the return trip will help me to relax. This is one of those times, I wish I had a convertible. With a shoulder shrug, I head out. Promising myself to stop at any and all little spots that I find interesting.
During this return drive, I really began to think about the situation I have found myself in. I am in love with a man who is married to another. He says he has tried to end it but she won’t sign the papers. I am not sure if I believe that or not. In the spirit of the ocean drive, I think that sounds fishy. I must admit after meeting her she is a lunatic. Full fledged all out C-R-A-Z-Y. I’ll give her that for sure. Sighing deeply, I acknowledge her mental state doesn’t mean a thing. What is important is she has the signed marriage license.
Apparently, that signed piece of paper doesn’t mean a thing to Lana. Which really surprises me. The Lana Lewis I thought I knew would never go after a married man. Maybe I am wrong. Wrinkling my brow I just don’t know what to think about that. She did say she was at 303 though. Slamming my hand against the steering wheel it hits me, I wonder if I am wrong and she was with Nash? If that is the case, why would she be sorry? Why wouldn’t she have just said it was Nash? Deep down, I really begin to question myself and the whole situation. I saw the look on her face when we were talking. It’s Houston. I know it is. There is no way I am going to give her the satisfaction of hearing me ask her if it is him.
Arriving back at 303, I grab my purchases from all the little stops I made on the way back. It’s a good thing, I didn’t drive further up than what I did. My checkbook might not have been able to handle it. I cross over to the elevator and head up not being able to forget one day when I went shopping and poor Jeff was forced to go with me. He hated every minute of it even though Houston assured me that Jeff liked to shop and was quite familiar with women’s clothing designers. Later, I found out that Jeff like most married men endures shopping to be with his wife since he is out of town with Houston so much. All I can say is she is one lucky woman if he tags along. With a quick snarl I continue on, who am I kidding? Shopping with a man is pure torture.
Walking into Blaine’s office I can’t help but smile as my mind flashes back to this morning when I was trying to leave his bed. If each time I leave his place is like this morning, then I should always plan on leaving thirty minutes before I actually have to. That way I might possibly get out the door on time. Smiling to myself, I focus on the multiple times, I attempted to get out of the bed this morning. Every time, he would pull me back against him, wrapping those arms around me. I can just hear him now as we were lying there, caressing each other. Rolling on top of me, he nibbles on my neck, moving up to my ear, I hear him whisper, “Charli, I have it on excellent authority that your meeting will not start on time.”
Laughing, my response is simply, “Oh really?”
“Yes, really.” Blaine reaches over to the nightstand picks up his phone. Propping himself up on his elbow, he sends a text. “There, you have plenty of time.”
Five minutes later I receive a text from Lana. meeting rescheduled for one-thirty.
My response was simple. alright. will meet you there. not coming in today.
Stepping off the elevator, I notice the ultra modern decor. I didn’t completely take it in yesterday when I was here. I definitely had other things on my mind. Lana is waiting for me in the outer area. Only nodding at her, I decide for the sake of Supreme Corporate Travel, I must be civil. However, that is just about as far as I intend to take it. I am not sure how we will get through this but I have no doubt we will. Stepping towa
rd me with a small grimace on her face she realizes I have nothing to say but she continues, “Charli, we need to talk.”
Really that is what she leads with? I can’t believe her. Holding up my hand to stop her I reply, “I will be professional in this meeting but otherwise please do not waste your breath because I have nothing to say to you. It is taking every fiber of my being to not claw your eyes out. Please leave me alone.”
Turning away, I select a chair across the room. Before I can sit, the secretary says, “Ms. Jensen you may go on back. Mr. Carlton has requested five minutes with you prior to your appointment. Looking over at Lana, I really would like to stick my tongue out at her but that would be very childish. The secretary buzzes me back. I wonder if she remembers me from yesterday? Once through the outer offices, I am directed to Blaine’s private one. Entering the room my eyes move immediately to his desk chair where I expected to find him but what I do find is an empty space. Standing just inside the door I can't help my mind from wandering to the things we did in it yesterday. I am just about to ask if he has had any flashbacks from yesterday or if he would like a repeat performance sometime when I am distracted by a noise on the other side of the room. That is where I find him looking out a window at who knows what. I am not sure what you actually look at when you are on the twenty-fifth floor but he is looking at it. Without turning he says, “Don’t speak except to answer this question. Did you grant me my request by wearing a skirt or dress?”
"Well hello to you, too. Yes, I did. Turn around and you will see.”
Keeping his back to me, he continues, “I will ignore the fact that you didn’t do as I just directed. Don’t say anything. I want you to take your panties off and leave them on my desk. Then go on into the conference room. Your partner will already be there.”
I stand here just for a second, when my conscience kicks in. Am I going to do what he just ask? That is weird. The side of me that has become more adventurous takes over. That's when I know I'm going to do this.
“Charli, did you hear me?”
“Yes, Blaine I heard you.”
“Then, it would be my suggestion that you get a move on. Your meeting will be starting soon.” All that without ever turning around.
Moving across the room to the chair in front of his desk, I sit my bag down. Leaning back against his desk, I work my melon colored pencil skirt up high enough to slip out of my satin and lace panties. Pulling my skirt back down, I feel the gush of air rush up underneath. Laying them on the dark mahogany desk, I make my way to the conference room. It does feel strange to be without underwear but at the same time it is exhilarating. Not sure this is the best time to experience this feeling but I am into it or rather out of it now. Chuckling to myself, I head into the meeting. By the time the committee members are assembled, the clock says one-thirty. Lana begins the presentation. In the middle we struggle just a little but both of us manage to remain engaged in the process. Just as I am about to begin the closing, the door opens with Blaine walking in to join the group.
“Excuse me, I thought I might sit in on the end of the presentation.” Just as he unbuttons his jacket, I catch a glimpse of something peach sticking out of his pants pocket. Lifting my eyes to his, I catch a hint of a wicked smile.
Returning a smile to him, I say, “Certainly, you are welcome Mr. Carlton. I was just beginning the closing.” Continuing my individual piece of the presentation, I completely ignore him and the fact that my panties are in his pants pocket as best as I can. As we are exiting the conference room, I still haven’t spoken to Lana on a personal level. Right now, I am not really sure when or if I will again. Heading to the elevator, Lana speaks in a soft tone that indicates this is a private conversation. We are standing shoulder to shoulder waiting for the damned elevator to arrive.
I recognize the tone in which she is speaking the minute words begin to tumble out of her mouth. It is the tone she uses when she is embarrassed. I could care less if she is embarrassed or not. Trying to maintain a professional appearance since we are still in the outer offices of The Blaine Company. “Charli, I don’t know what to say to you. An apology isn’t enough. If I say I am sorry, would you believe me?”
Looking over at her, I hope the lighting bolts that I am attempting to shoot from my eyes are being understood. Somehow, I manage to speak in somewhat of a civil tone, “Let me restate to you what I said earlier. I have nothing to say. At this very moment, I am not sure if I want to claw your eyes out or simply wash my hands of you and our friendship. What I do know is I have been betrayed by the one person that I trusted most in the entire world. I am beginning to wave my forefinger back and forth which should tell her nothing good is going to come out of this conversation when the elevator dings signaling it’s arrival. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am stepping onto this elevator, I understand we must be on it together for appearances sake but please do not speak to me.”
I knew it was only wishful thinking that she would listen to what I said especially when I see we are the only two passengers. Lana speaks without looking at me. Sighing she continues, “We connected at the Black and Gold Gala. It was while you were in Kansas. I have seen him several times in the three months since. The other night was the first time I had been to Dade 303 with him. I am sorry you had to find out the way you did. Believe me, I never meant to hurt you. You should know that.”
If the part of me that represents my Midwestern roots and upbringing could materialize beside me at this very moment, her mouth would be hanging wide open. She would be as lost for words as I am. What in the world does she mean she didn’t mean to hurt me? How could it not? I can feel the tears forming in my eyes but I absolutely refuse to allow the woman I once called my best friend and confidant to do this to me. I know if I attempt to let even one word escape my lips the tears will flow. When they start I am not sure I can stop them. As I am contemplating this the elevator dings allowing several people mostly men to join us in the car. I move as far away from the traitor as I possibly can. I have never been so relieved to be pushed to the back of an elevator car in my entire life.
Chapter 28
As I step out of the elevator, a guard in the lobby stops me. “Excuse me, Ma’am. Are you Ms. Jensen?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Someone called down, described you and said for me to detain you. Something about you leaving something in Mr. Carlton’s office. If you will just step over to the desk, I am suppose to call up if I was able to catch you before you left.”
Smiling, I look at him and simply say “sure.” Oh goodness. Surely, he isn’t going to request I come back up to retrieve the “thing” we both know that I left.
Lana pauses and I ignore her by turning away to face the guard. After a few seconds, I glance over my shoulder and she is gone. The guard hangs up, smiles then says, “Actually Ms. Jensen, there was some type of mix up. You can go. I am sorry for the delay.”
Nodding, I turn and walk out of the building. Well, that was strange. I wonder what type of game Blaine is playing? Who knows with him. Catching a cab, I head to 303. I have no panties on. I no longer have a best friend. I can’t go into the office like this or can I? Even if I could, I am not ready to face her. Better for me to stay away. Looking down at my bag, I realize my phone is vibrating. Pulling it out, I see I missed a call from Blaine. Vibrating again this time it is a text.
Where do you think you are going?
Me: Home, I seem to be missing something.
Come and get it.
Me: Where are you?
Go to the next block and get out.
Me: How do you know I am in something?
No response. Ok, game on. Directing the driver to pull over, I exit the taxi. I am standing on the street expecting Blaine. What I get is another text.
There is a black SUV coming for you.
Smiling, I respond. Are we really doing this?
I sure hope so.
The SUV pulls up, a man gets out of the front, opens the back door for me, aw
ay we go. I look down and on the seat is a manila envelope with my name scrawled across the front. Hesitant to actually pull the enclosed items out, I look down into it where I find several things. I can definitely make out a black silk sleep mask, a feather along with what looks like a length of silk. I have absolutely no idea where this vehicle is taking me but after examining the envelope’s objects I am more than a bit curious.
My smile broadens when we turn down a familiar street. That’s when I know we are heading toward Blaine’s hotel. Arriving in front of this luxury boutique hotel, I am marveled at the overall beauty of the building. I fully understand why he selects this location for extended stays when he is in town. It is not a large place, just four floors. It is my understanding that each suite has amenities such as marble bathrooms, espresso machines, claw foot soaker tubs and a whole host of other things. Blaine’s suite has a kitchen with high end appliances with some type of blue stone from Brazil. As if he would ever cook in there. Actually, I can’t imagine him ever cooking anything. I suppose the kitchen makes the long term guest feel more as if they are at home.
As I enter the lobby, I do not see Blaine anywhere. Hearing my phone beep I pull it out to check the message. It’s from Blaine.
Running behind. Go on up. Make yourself at home.
Just as I near the concierge he looks up to greet me with that fake welcoming smile of his. “Welcome back, Ms. Jensen. Mr. Carlton phoned ahead and directed me to give you access to his suite.”