Her Little White Lie (BWWM Romance) (4 page)

6

The next day on my early shift, I was sharing reception duty with Dora who said she wouldn't mind covering the desk while I slipped away for a few minutes. I had a large bag with Mikey's suit in it and the ring, wrapped in the red silk handkerchief, in the inside pocket. I made my way up to the fourth floor and to Mr. Iglesias's suite.

I tapped gently, looking from right to left to make sure I would not be spotted by any members of staff. Cleaning staff and maids were one thing but to be seen by management meant a whole lot of explaining and I didn't know what I would do if I actually got caught.

“Come in.” His voice was gentle. I opened the door and entered the suite giving one last look over my shoulder, just to be sure.

Mr. Iglesias was wearing a navy blue dressing gown with a gold cord tied at the waist. His pajamas were gold and silky and looked very expensive. In fact everything about Mr... Iglesias said class, even down to the neat leather slippers on his feet.

He sat at the table drinking coffee. He had finished the rest of his breakfast, I made sure I timed my visit because I didn't want to disturb him.

“Good morning, Grace! How was the party?”

“Oh, it was just fine and I have you to thank for helping me pull it off.”

I walked over to his table and he gestured for me to take a seat opposite. The New York streets were already busy down below and views of the skyline, tall and imposing in shades of gray, were looming large outside Mr. Iglesias's window. I sat down and gingerly stretched out my hand, which held the items I needed to return.

“Mr. Iglesias that was such a generous gesture you made. Mikey's suit must have cost a fortune so here it is neatly folded. And as for the ring, well, it was so beautiful. Thank you for adding such a special touch to my night. It's wrapped in the silk handkerchief in the inside pocket. I'm sure you still have the receipts.”

“The receipts?”

“Yes, so you can return everything.”

“But my
Princesa
, why would I want to do that?”

“Because you were only helping me out, just for the party, right? I can't keep these.”

“But they were presents. The suit for your fiancé and the ring for you. Christmas presents, from me to you.”

“Mr. Iglesias, no. We can't accept this. It's too much. That ring, I mean, that ring is a real diamond. How could I possibly...”

“Grace. You insult me deeply.” He put down his cup and held a hand to his chest. I felt like a traitor and I wished to God I'd never started this lie.

“I don't wish to insult you,” I said. “I mean, apart from anything else, I'm not even allowed to accept presents from the guests.”

“Yes you have told me several times and each time I feel it is a big
lastima
.”

“Not a shame, Mr. Iglesias, those are the rules.” I held out the bag again and he just looked at it.

“Grace, I thought by now you would see me as more than a guest. I thought, perhaps, we were friends at the very least.”

“Yes, we are friends, but...”

“Some people like to make a show of how much they appreciate their friends from time to time. You are a very good person, Grace, I could see that from the day I met you. You have time for me, you stop to talk to me and you are the only one in this hotel who truly seems to care about my well-being. I see that as friendship and, true, we only see each other once a year, but your company means a lot to me.”

“And yours does to me, I really mean that Mr. Iglesias, but I still feel your gesture is
too
generous, I could never show mine like that. I can't buy you expensive presents in return.”

“But, I bought the suit to help you convince the people here. If you saw Mikey before he arrived, you wouldn't have stood a chance.” He started laughing and I could just imagine Mikey coming straight off the building site, covered in dust and dirt with a sweaty face and not having remembered to change. I laughed too.

“You know, Grace, I have a lot of money so I can afford to spend even three times what I did. Believe me. But I was moderate. I only did enough to help a friend. As for the ring, I know hotel policy but to hell with that. This is a gift from one friend to another and had nothing to do with the hotel. If you accept it, you accept it because you are my friend and not because you did a good job of greeting me at the reception desk. Agreed?”

“But, Mr. Iglesias...”

“Agreed,” his voice was a little louder, but still friendly.

“Agreed,” I said in a little voice. It was the first present I'd received in, I don't know how many years, from anyone. Not even Mikey remembered my birthday and he knew I wasn't into Christmas presents. The last thing I remember receiving was a necklace from my Dad. I was thirteen and he said it was my Mom's and to look after it.

I got up and kissed Mr. Iglesias on the cheek.

“Thank you, Mr. Iglesias. I will look after this and treasure it because it came from my very good friend.”

He smiled warmly at me and nodded. I left the room with watery eyes.

I rushed along the corridor and straight into Miss Poole.

“Careful, Grace. I could have been a guest. What have you got there?”

“Just something of mine.”

“I hope you have not been accepting gifts from our guests. You know the rules.” She looked over the top of her glasses at me.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I know the rules.”

I hurried away, thinking to myself, 'Rules sometimes get broken.'

7

I went over to Mikey’s apartment Saturday afternoon. I had the suit with me. I figured he may as well have it, you never know when he might need a smart suit one day. Frank and Stewie were out, and Mikey answered the door in just a towel.

“I'm sorry, I caught you at a bad time,” I said, wondering if I should back away. It wasn't too far to go back to my apartment.

“Don't be silly, come on in. I was just shaving.”

“Oh go ahead, I won't stay long.” I was still holding the bag and Mikey beckoned me to follow him to the bathroom.

It smelled nice in there. A manly but perfumed fragrance and still very warm from the shower he must just have had. I took off my thick jacket and leaned against radiator while Mikey filled the sink with water and smeared shaving cream onto his face. He shook his razor into water and started running it down his chin. I could see his reflection in the mirror and I could see the muscle definition in his arms and back.

His shoulders were wide and I suppose the manual work had helped him become so muscular. I never knew him to work out at a gym or anything.

“So, what you up to today, Grace? You wanna hang out?”

“I could do that.  I'm on the late shift tonight so I don't have to go in until eight so, yeah we can hang out.” I pulled at the neck of my thick sweater. I was becoming warmer by the second. I saw Mikey's smile in the mirror and it sent something through my stomach that was similar to the feeling of when I first saw him in that suit. The suit. It was in the bag at my feet now.

“Oh, Mikey, I nearly forgot. Mr. Iglesias said you could keep the suit.”

“Why do I need a suit?” His head was tilted up and he was shaving from his neck up towards his chin.

“I don't know. Church?”

He pulled a face at me and caught the skin near his throat with the razor.

“Sorry,” I said. “I'm distracting you. I'll wait in your room.”

He came through to his room after a little while. Surprisingly, it was reasonably neat and there were no weird smells around. There was music playing low from his system on the floor by the window and I had taken off my boots and sat up on his bed, flicking through his magazines, the way I always did.

As Mikey always did, he came bounding in and jumped onto the bed next to me and sat very close. But this time, as he was in just a towel, I began squirming and trying to stop my breathing from seeming loud and exaggerated. I didn't know what was going on with me.

“You interested in cars?” he asked me, looking at the page I'd opened the magazine to.

“Er, not really, just looking at the pictures.”

He leapt over me and his towel got loose.

“I better put some clothes on. Turn away.” His voice was all casual.

I turned to my left but didn't close my eyes. The mirror on the left wall reflected Mikey's body as he stood bending over the chest of drawers on the right side of the room. He opened a drawer, let the towel drop and pulled on a pair of gray pants. They looked designer but I doubted that they were. I did a double take when I saw his butt in the reflection. It occurred to me that Mikey did look good in jeans and with his naked body in the reflection in the mirror, I could see that the evidence was backing up the facts.

I swallowed hard as Mikey went to the wardrobe in the corner and found a pair of dark jeans. He put them on and turned to me as he fastened them up.

“Okay, I'm decent now.”

He took out a shirt and slowly did up the buttons as I looked from beneath a bowed head and my eyelashes as his smooth chest got hidden away button by button.

“What d'you want to do today?” he asked me.

“Pardon me?” I was distracted.

He came back and bounced back onto the bed beside me.

“How about I take you to lunch?” he asked. “You can tell me all about the outcome of the party. Did the hotel staff believe that quiet, little Grace Danvers is engaged to marry a rich, restaurant owning, diamond giving stud in expensive suits?” He sang a few bars of the music for a suspense drama and we both started laughing.

“The saddest thing,” I said through the tears of laughter, “is when I have to tell them that I broke it off with you.”

“Now that's the thing they're never going to buy.”

“And why not?” I asked him.

“Because I'm a catch. If anything I should be the one breaking up with
you
.”

“So let me get this straight.” I looked at him with the best, serious face I could. “You saying I ain't no catch?”

“That's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying that I'm a better one.”

I grabbed one of his pillows and started hitting him, he grabbed the other and all out combat ensued. We fell off the bed and he rolled on top of me and started tickling me.

“No fair,” I shouted in between giggles, “I hate being tickled.”

“Okay then,” he said and reached for a pillow to start hitting me again.  I saw a chance to escape but he grabbed for me and pinned my arms up while I was still on the floor. His lips were just inches from mine and his breath was warm on my face. I stopped laughing. He did too. We were silent and just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

His body was jammed up against me and it was all I could do to stop myself from adjusting mine to a more comfortable position for making out, but instead I cleared my throat.

“I thought you were buying me lunch?”

“I am.”

He sprang to his feet and started looking for something. I sat up and fixed my hair so it was neat again. I looked over to Mikey who found a thick, V-neck sweater and pulled it over his head. He sat on the side of his bed and put on a pair of socks. I stood on the opposite side of the bed looking down at the thick but sophisticated neck as he bent to pull on his shoes. I could reach out and stroke it, his hair too, but what was I thinking? This was Mikey, my best friend and he'd run a mile if I went weird on him. I was weirding my own self out.

I sat to pull my boots back on.

“My jacket is in the bathroom,” I said opening the bedroom door.

“I put it on the sofa,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied. We were being very civilized and I was feeling very confused.

Mikey treated me to a burger and asked if I wanted to come back to his place so we could continue to hang out.

“What time do the other guys get back?”

“They won't be back until much later. They're off doing their Christmas shopping. Frank will be at Macy's and Stewie will be at the thrift store. Both going to visit family for the holidays.”

“What about you? You going home to Boston again this year?”

“Not sure, I might have plans but then again it all depends.”

“Depends on what?” I asked as I grabbed for my last fry before he could demolish it, the way he always did,

“I might have other arrangements but they need to be confirmed.”

I left it at that. Like I said, Mikey never said much about what was happening in his life and I knew not to push it. If there was anything he wanted to tell me, he'd do it in his own time. In Mikey time.

We walked back to his place and Mikey had his arm around my shoulder. I put my arm around his waist for a change and we walked like that for the few blocks back to his apartment. I noticed how girls were looking at us, smiling at me as though they approved of my choice in boyfriend. That was what it felt like. Like Mikey was my boyfriend because out of nowhere it was beginning to feel like he was or that maybe he could be.

We had always hung out together, we were best friends, we knew each other's family background, favorite book, movie, color, star sign, and birthday. Heck, Mikey even knew my menstrual cycle. There was only one thing missing from this picture. He wasn't into me the way I was increasingly getting into him the more time I spent in his company.

I was into Mikey.

Back at his apartment, we played poker. I normally always beat him at poker because he had such an obvious show. This time I was too busy looking at the way his hair had no particular parting, at his wide hands that were still quite gentlemanly at the same time, and the way he pouted when he was thinking, he beat me hands down and was back to whacking me over the head with a pillow.

“Stop, Mikey.”

“Don't be a sore loser,” he grinned back at me.

“I'm not. You won fair and square, I just forgot to tell you something else about Mr. Iglesias.”

“What?”

“He said I should keep the ring.”

“Didn't I tell you?”

“I know, but I'm keeping it because he's my friend. He appreciates my friendship and values my opinions and listens to what I have to say.”

“Of course he appreciates you, Grace.”

We had been sitting on the floor in the living room to play cards. Mikey got all serious and was leaning very close to me as he spoke. Our eyes were locked together.

“He appreciates your honesty, your kindness, your humility and your strength,” he said, closer still.

“All the things I appreciate in you, Grace. Never change.”

“I won't.”

Without warning, our lips joined. Mikey leaned closer so that my head was back onto the seat of the sofa. He kissed me deeper and placed his hand on my neck, touching it just gently but making waves of electricity pass through me so that I pulled him even closer, arms around his neck.

We lay on the floor, his body partially on top of me as I began to pull his shirt out from the waistband of his jeans and then slip my hands under the shirt and run them along his stomach up to his chest.

I undid the buttons and rolled on top of him, kissing his chest, his neck and then his lips again. I sat up, astride him, and pulled off my sweater, I was wearing a tight fitting top with string sleeves. He sat up so that he could work the top off me until I was only in my bra. The hectic movements of our foreplay slowed. He pulled down one of my bra straps and kissed my shoulder. He ran his tongue up to my neck and then my ear, nibbling the lobe as I felt all control leave my body. He reached around and undid the hooks of my bra, holding me to his naked chest and stroking my back.

“Grace,” he whispered my name. “You sure.”

“Yes,” I said, but as we stopped to look into each other's eyes I shocked myself back to reality.

“No.” I got up quickly and hooked my bra before he'd even taken it off. I put my top on and sat on the sofa.

“We shouldn't, Mikey. I'm sorry. I started this.”

“Well it's not like I resisted.”

“But we're friends and we could spoil things. I'm sorry. I should go. I'm working tonight.”

“Don't feel guilty, Grace. Friends make out. It's natural. You get curious and, you know, stuff happens.”

“Forgive me.” I put on my sweater and boots while he buttoned his shirt and then flopped onto the sofa with his hands behind his head.

“It's not a big deal, Grace. Believe me.”

I put on my jacket and leaned to kiss his cheek.

“I'll call you,” I said and ran for the door.

I felt foolish. Why had I let it get that far?

I walked out into the dusk and sped along to my apartment to have a quick shower before my shift. It was, thankfully, a short shift, only a few hours to get through, then I could be back in my apartment and bury my head under the covers.