Just This Once (17 page)

———

Paula hated situations like the one she was walking into. The fact that security was already involved and had called her indicated that they hadn’t been able to diffuse the situation with just their presence.

Exiting the elevator, she was met at once by one of the guards. “Do you have the gentleman’s name yet?” she asked, all business.

“No, and this guy is not exactly a gentleman, if you know what I mean. If I had to guess, I’d say he likes his Johnny Walker straight up.”

“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, for crying out loud.” Paula turned from the guard to appraise the uncooperative guest, who sat in an armchair by a potted plant — his ashtray, she observed — holding a drink in one hand, and a cigar in the other. He was a large, barrel-chested man, his tie knotted loosely but still obscuring his neck. His bulbous face was red and his eyes had that unfocused look that indeed said “I’m drunk as hell.”

“Hello, I’m Paula McKenzie. I’m the manager here. They tell me that your wife won’t let you smoke that cigar in your room. Is that right?”

“Goddamn right!” he barked.

“That’s too bad, Mr. ….” She waited a moment, but he didn’t take the bait. “But I’m afraid that the city of Denver has an ordinance that prohibits smoking in the common areas of all public buildings, so your choices are pretty limited. You either have to stay in your room, or you can go to the smoking area on the second floor. Unfortunately, that’s on an outside balcony.”

“Or I can sit right here,” he answered belligerently.

“No, that isn’t one of your choices, unless you put out the cigar. I think it would be best if you returned to your room. I’d be happy to explain the rules to your wife. Maybe she’d change her mind.” Her voice was calm and steady, and her face bore just a hint of an encouraging smile.

“Can I smoke in the bar?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Then I’m going to sit right here until I finish.” Extracting his lighter, he relit the smelly cigar.

Paula sighed. “Look, as the manager, I have to enforce the smoking rules or I’ll get in trouble with the hotel director. If that happens, I could lose my job; and if I lose my job, they might take my children away from me. Please help me here. All you have to do is put out the cigar and go back to your room.”

The man looked at his drink, then at his cigar. “You mean you might get fired if I don’t put this out.”

Paula nodded with a pleading look.

“How many kids you got?”

“Two,” she lied, “Josh and Jordan.” It was handy to have a nephew and niece top of mind.

“Well, I don’t want you to lose your kids on account of me,” he finally acquiesced, turning to stub out the cigar in the plant.

“Why don’t you let me take that?” Paula intercepted the smoking object, dousing it at once in what was left of the man’s drink. “I really appreciate you helping me out on this one. Why don’t you stop by the front desk when I’m working tomorrow and I’ll see that you get a coupon for a free drink in the bar?”

“Okay, thanks.”

Paula turned back to her two security guards who were waiting at the ready in case the situation had escalated. “Will you see that this gentleman gets back to his room okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

From the corner of her eye, Paula glimpsed the elevator door opening to allow a businessman to exit. The lighted arrow pointed upward, and she was vaguely aware of two women who remained on the car. As the doors began to close, her eyes met those of the tall dark-haired woman and she froze.

———

Wynne’s heart pounded the very instant she recognized the hotel manager. The sensations were almost overwhelming: the tightened stomach, the shaking hands, the rapid breathing.

“Are you okay?” Cheryl noticed at once that her companion had fallen back against the side of the elevator, gripping the rail for support.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just got…queasy all of a sudden.”

“You better not be getting sick. Being sick at a hotel is one of the worst experiences there is.”

“No, I’m fine, really,” she assured, though her voice shook in response to the adrenalin rush. So Paula McKenzie had moved to Denver.

The door opened on the top floor and both women stepped out, checking the placard to locate their rooms.

“I’m in 2116. Call me if you start feeling sick. If I’m not in, call my cell phone.” Cheryl knew she was mothering her protégé, but after raising three children, it was her nature to worry about other people.

“I’m okay, honest. It was just…nothing.”

“Alright, but call me if you need anything.”

“I will. But go out and have a good time with your friends. Don’t worry, okay?”

“If you say so.”

“I say so. I’ll see you in the morning. Watch the margaritas.”

“Spoilsport.”

Wynne pushed her card into the slot across the hall from her boss and stepped inside, leaning her back against the door as it closed. Coming face to face with Paula had completely unnerved her. An array of emotions had surfaced all at once: surprise, guilt, apprehension. And desire.

———

Paula returned quickly to her desk, her fingers fumbling anxiously as she called up the guest register on her terminal. Scanning the details, she confirmed that her imagination wasn’t at play.

K. Wynne Connelly, two-nights. Room 2117, billed to Eldon-Markoff.

So she hung onto her job after all, Paula thought. “And of all the hotels in Denver, she had to walk into mine,” she murmured, understanding how Humphrey Bogart must have felt when Ingrid Bergman entered his club in Morocco.

There had been whole days of late when Paula hadn’t thought of the beautiful woman from Baltimore, but it didn’t take much to conjure the image. Anytime she saw an elegant woman traveling alone, she remembered Wynne Connelly. And if one of those women spoke to her in a friendly way, she automatically invoked her most professional demeanor, a wall of resistance to familiarity. Even after almost a year, the wariness lingered, leaving her more isolated than she had ever felt. Thank goodness she had a job that she loved.

And tonight, Wynne Connelly was staying in her hotel.

Like a moth to the flame, she needed to see Wynne, to talk to her again, if only to snipe a bit and let her know that she had risen above it. People shouldn’t be allowed to treat others like that and get off scot free. But she wanted Wynne to know that she was over it…even if her own shaking hands were telling her otherwise.

———

Wynne turned back to her notes for tomorrow’s meeting, reading the paragraph for the third time, still not comprehending the words. She was situated in the corner of the Concierge lounge, looking up from time to time to admire the sunset over the Rockies.

She’d held this vigil for over two hours, hoping — but doubting — that Paula would once again stop by to say hello.

It was almost nine as she finished her second glass of red wine. Paula would know where to find her, she knew, if the hotel manager would even consider speaking to her. Her last words — on the phone at the Hyatt — hadn’t been harsh, but there was definitely finality in her tone.

There was so much Wynne wanted to say about what had happened. She needed to apologize not only for what she’d done, but for the way she had run away from the mess she’d made. Mostly, she wanted to tell Paula that her feelings had been real.

Suddenly, she felt more than saw the familiar face was coming her way; a fixed expression not giving away the blonde woman’s mood. As it had in the elevator, Wynne’s heart rate increased and her stomach fluttered in anticipation.

“Hello, Wynne,” the hotel manager said formally.

“Paula…it’s good to see you.”

“I’m glad to see that things worked out for you with Eldon-Markoff.” Paula tried to sound casual, fighting hard to conceal the emotions that the sight of this woman called up.

“Thank you,” Wynne answered meekly. It was difficult not to feel as though she was under judgment. Spotting the nametag above the pocket of the black blazer, she returned the sentiment. “And I see you’ve made Senior Shift Manager. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, I decided that I was ready to relocate.” She didn’t add that the circumstances of their parting had made it easier to leave Orlando. No, Paula wasn’t about to say anything to suggest that their relationship had been anything more than spontaneous.

“It must have been a difficult decision, leaving your family and a hotel you liked so much.”

“I like this hotel, and I’m enjoying the new job. How about you?”

“Things are good. I….” She decided against telling Paula that she too had relocated. It wasn’t important now that the other woman was no longer there, and Wynne really didn’t want to underscore the irony. “I really like what I’m doing now. They keep me pretty busy.”

Paula wanted to say more; actually, she wanted Wynne to say more, but she didn’t want to be the one to press it. “Well, I hope things keep working out for you.”

“Have dinner with me,” the brunette suddenly blurted.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Paula looked around awkwardly to see if others were within earshot.

“I’m not. Paula, I have so many things I want to tell you. Please.”

“No,” she answered adamantly. “It isn’t necessary, Wynne. It wasn’t a big deal. We got carried away and did something we shouldn’t have. End of story.”

Despite the words of denial, Wynne could feel the anger and hurt emanating from the woman before her. She looked away and shook her head sadly. Turning back, she held Paula’s eyes with her own. “Would it help at all to tell you that I’m sorry?”

Paula could see the sadness for herself in the shining blue eyes, but she was determined not to respond to it. It didn’t matter now anyway, and there was no way she was going to show how naïve she’d been. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t have any expectations. When people let things happen too fast, it’s easy to make mistakes.”

To Wynne, the words sounded cold and calculated, but who was she to argue that it had been more than just getting “carried away” for her. The voice that started in her head the moment she met Paula McKenzie had warned her not to let it happen, but she had chosen to ignore it and like Paula said, she made a mistake. And perhaps the woman standing before her was the price of her poor judgment, and Wynne just had to let her know that she realized that.

“Paula, it was my mistake, not yours,” she offered, “and what I regret the most is that I screwed things up with you.”

“That you did.” She hadn’t meant to sound so flippant, but 11 months of stewing about it had left her bitter. Still, the sad blue eyes made her want to soften, made her want to forgive, and made her want to say that it was alright. “Look, I…need to go. It was good to see you again.”

Wynne nodded. “Thanks for coming by.” Soon afterwards, she retreated to her room, still wound up at having seen Paula, and deeply saddened at where they’d left things. Despite everything that had transpired, she knew without a doubt that if Paula were still in Orlando, she’d find a way to be with her. No one had ever made her feel this way.

In her office on the second floor, the blonde woman pushed her hands through her hair.

The encounter had left her nearly drained. That woman upstairs made her feel things, and after this time, it still hurt.

Chapter 14

“Paula, over here!” the graying-blonde woman shouted as she spotted her daughter coming through the terminal exit.

“Mom!” Rushing the final few steps, Paula dropped her shoulder bag and wrapped her mother in a hug. “I’ve missed you guys so much!”

“We’ve missed you too. Josh and Jordan talked about you all through breakfast.”

“Are they here?”

“No, I came by myself. I was being selfish because I wanted you all to myself for an hour.”

“Fine by me.” The two women lingered in baggage claim as they waited for the carousel to deposit her luggage.

“So are you still liking Denver, honey?”

“I’m not sure I ever actually said that I liked Denver, but I really love my hotel.”

“You don’t like it there?”

“It’s okay, I guess. It was awfully cold all winter. And those two blizzards we got in April didn’t help matters. But it’s actually quite pleasant right now.”

“Have you had a chance to get out much?” Once again, Maxine found herself worrying about her daughter, knowing that she was giving too much of herself to the Weller Regent at the expense of finding even a modicum of personal happiness.

“A little. The Rockies are gorgeous and I’ve taken a few drives.”

“By yourself, I suppose.”

Paula shrugged. “Yeah, it’s hard to find someone who’s free to do something on a Tuesday or Wednesday.” The red rollerboard appeared on the carousel. “Here’s my bag.”

Moments later, they were getting into Maxine’s white Accord, bound for Cocoa Beach.

Paula reveled in the warm humidity of Orlando in June.

“Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” Paula answered tentatively. She and her mom rarely talked about personal matters but the tone of the older woman’s voice suggested that it was going to be that kind of question.

“Do you…date anyone? I don’t mean to pry, and you can tell me that it’s none of my business if you want, but honey, sometimes I just can’t bear to think about you being alone all the time.”

Paula chuckled. If her mother only knew…. Why not? “Actually, there was someone not too long ago, but things didn’t work out.”

“Oh? Someone in Denver?”

“No, it was here in Orlando actually, just before I left. I met her at the hotel. She was a guest.”

This revelation surprised Maxine, not only because Paula had never mentioned it to anyone, but also because it was important enough to her to bring it up here and now, over a year later. “Was it serious?”

“It could have been, at least to me,” she answered honestly.

“What happened?”

“She wasn’t…single. She had a girlfriend back in Baltimore…one that she forgot to mention.” Paula surprised herself by tearing up at the memory.

“Oh, Paula, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you talk to us about it?” Maxine already knew the answer to that: Ever since they’d sat in judgment the day their daughter had left for Europe 15 years ago, the subject of her love life was one they all avoided. Paula had been so quiet when she brought that one girlfriend around — Susan something or other, and Maxine and Ray took that to mean that their daughter wasn’t comfortable sharing her personal life.