The View from Suite 2100 (2 page)

“Then you better get down, “I taunted her. “I’m warning you, you’ve got to come with it tonight, Miss Politic! And, I’m only giving you 15 minutes.”

She cracked up. “You don’t scare me! Fifteen minutes it is. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby.”

It felt so good to laugh. I decided to text Alexia rather than call her. I knew that would cause her to respond immediately no matter where she was or what she was doing. I was right. She called me right back. Texting wasn’t her thing, she liked to remind me virtually everyday. She didn’t mind getting them, but she wasn’t about to start trying to thumb out messages back.

“Ro, you all right?”

“Couldn’t be better. Where you at?”

“I’m in the loop, heading for home. Just finished the Conway Dinner Party. It was quaint and went off without a snag, but boy am I glad it’s over.”

“What are you wearing?

“I said the ‘Conway Dinner Party’ – silk, I’m wearing a nice little black silk dress, - you know even the hired help is expected to be presentable at their affairs.” She said with her usual humor.

“Tell you what. I’ll swing by her place. I know she didn’t have any plans tonight. I’ll drag her out of that house if I have to – even if she’s soaking wet! Give me 30 or 40 minutes rather than 20, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan! Just tell her I’ve called an emergency Sister Session on the town tonight!”

****

As I drove my car into my drive at 9:00 A.M. the next morning, I had a sneaking suspicion Drew was parked somewhere close by watching. When I let myself in and checked my messages there were five from him, the last had been left around 3:00 A.M. I laughed and shook my head. Five years of dating the man assured me the only thing that had stopped his calls was him jumping in his car to come and personally see why I wasn’t answering my cell phone or picking up at home. I laughed again at an image that arose in my mind of his face when he drove by and discovered my car was gone. That would have really jacked with his ego. He’d dropped me off on my doorstep, I hadn’t let him in, had barely given him a kiss, but a couple of hours later, in the wee hours of the morning mind you, I wasn’t home! Drew David would have gone bonkers trying to figure that one out.

I barely set my keys down on the desk in my den when the telephone rang. I knew it was Drew without checking the caller I.D. I picked up on the third ring.

“Hello,” I made sure my voice was low and smoky.

“Hey, Rowena!” He responded breathlessly. I stole a glance then at the caller I.D. and it showed his cell phone number, not his home number, so he probably was somewhere close by.

“Hey, Drew.”

There was a moment’s silence, so I figured he was gathering his thoughts, plotting how to proceed. “So you finally decided to pick up, huh?”

I was about to respond, but hesitated. I’d play one of his little games with him. I knew them all, he’d played me over and over again, and I could write a book about which game plan he was going to come with based on what change we’d just gone through in the relationship. I decided to beat him to the punch.

Is this for real, I wondered, me sitting here on the telephone about to play games with this man, again?
Look at you, Rowena! Girl please, is this what you want for yourself?

I was constantly telling myself I was out of my mind to continually put up with Drew’s crap, but there were a lot of things about Drew I simply adored. The way he would throw back his head and laugh at my mediocre jokes was how he snagged my heart in the beginning. No one had ever laughed at my jokes that way! I loved the way his laughter had made me feel.

Then, there was the way he so often looked at me as though I was the only woman on earth! Just thinking about that look sent chills down my spine, and a hot spear of desire took a stab at me, too. Plus, there were other things like the unexpected little gifts that weren’t pricy, but exactly what fit the moment; surprises that he would show up with unannounced. Gifts like a tiny gold set of pom-poms he’d just given me to add to my charm bracelet. He’d bought them to say he was cheering me on in hopes I’d be the one to land a part of the major international contract for the new spare parts facility at the new airport maintenance wing being built in Ghana, West Africa.

But the moment at hand was calling for something else from me, not sentiment, but wisdom. I decided to act as though I had no idea he knew I was just walking through my front door. I’d pretend instead as though I was just waking up. I responded in the same smoky voice, which I was sure would take his suspicions through the roof.

“I slept like a log last night, sorry.” It was the truth. I’d decided to crash at Becca’s rather than drive back to Georgetown at 4:00 A.M. and Becca had one of those expensive Heavenly Beds like they have at the Westin Hotels in her guest room. I had burrowed deep into its lush covers and slept wonderfully. I understood why the guitar player wanted to be her perpetual house guest. I almost laughed out loud as Drew caught his breath loudly. He had been expecting an explanation. Not getting one I heard a slight shift in his attitude.

I cut him off abruptly. I wasn’t in the mood any longer for games, neither his nor mine. I didn’t want his apology. I didn’t trust it, I realized, and for him to keep coming back to it was starting to really irritate me. I’d passed on breakfast with Becca and just wanted to fix myself a light snack, slip out of the fancy clothes I had put back on from the night before to drive home in and into something comfortable, and to get to a few lingering tasks I knew needed some attention before Monday.

I just didn’t want to open myself up to Drew right then. I was still stinging from his horrible slight and thoughtlessness, but was surprised at my own continuous reaction to the Will Downing incident, and to Drew. It wasn’t like me to be so short with him, even when he deserved it.

“Just tell me this. Do you still love me?”

My heart leaped at the question. God knew I loved him, knew I wanted to marry him. Heck, as primary school as it was, I caught myself scribbling Rowena J. Ardmore or Mrs. Drew David Ardmore III repeatedly on scraps of paper or my napkins at Starbuck. Still, I tried to act all cool about it, even with the girls, although they could see clear through me. But I was especially cool about it with Drew, of all people. I didn’t want him to know how much or how often I thought about marrying him,
but it was what I wanted from him
. What I always felt I needed after investing so much time in the relationship.

“Yes, Drew, I do love you, but I’m going to run right now, okay. I’ve got a few things I really, really need to do. I’ll give you a call in a little while.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond, I just hung up, but I didn’t move right away. I sat there thinking for at least ten minutes in silence, wondering.

Chapter Two

Tuesday rolled around before I knew it. I’d been strong enough to play past Drew both Sunday and Monday by telling him I had important things I had to do and simply couldn’t see him. Well, I guess he couldn’t take me putting him off anymore! He called saying he was on the northwest side of town and wanted to stop by. Truthfully, I’m not that into Drew (or any other man I’m dating for that matter) dropping by my office too frequently. It’s where I make my money, and I try not to mix business and pleasure but since he was trying to be nice I told him to come on through, but just for a moment. Actually, being angry was starting to wear me out.

There were a few things I needed to tie up before he got there since I didn’t know how long he would want to stick around despite my moment comment. I needed to make a couple of quick calls. I promised Alexia I would recommend her as the caterer for the Pacific Rim Trade Conference at the Convention Center that’s scheduled for September since my trading company is one of this year’s hosts and I’m also on the planning committee. And I definitely needed to see if Becca’s personal hairstylist, Quita, could still squeeze me in for an appointment to get my hair cut Thursday.

As close as Becca and I are, I don’t dare wait to the last minute to ask her to call on one of her fashion industry contacts. Quita’s spa and salon, Magic Hands, is the D.C. ‘in’ spot because Miss Quita is doing it to death with some hair. She and her business partner, another D.C. female power player I’m told, who, for whatever reason, chooses to stay anonymous, have put Magic Hands on the map nationwide! You have to know somebody who knows somebody to even get through the front door, and it has become a favorite gathering place for me and my girls for our “sister sessions” now that we’ve been invited into that cherished inner circle – thanks to Becca.

Once I finished those two calls I was about to close my appointment book when it hit me. I had almost forgotten the most critical thing! I had to make sure I took care of what I had labeled ‘the monster!’ I pressed the intercom just about to ask my assistant Carolyn to step into my office when I looked up.

“Carolyn, can you -- ooh, girl you scared me!”

Now I don’t know why I jumped to see her already standing there. Carolyn stays on top of everything, especially me. There was no telling how long she’s been standing in the doorway listening and laughing at me while I talked to myself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I laughed. “Wow, Carolyn, you always seem to know what I’m going to do before I do it. I was just about to call you in here.”

She had flashed a priceless smile as she slipped in and quietly places an envelope on the edge of my desk. The name ‘Sandra Durante’ was scrawled across it in bold black marker.

“Now, there you go again Ms. Wilkes, trying to give me credit I’m not due!”

“Rowena! Call me Rowena.”

Carolyn smiled at the correction, but ignored me. It really was silly of me to bring it up. I knew she can’t make herself call me by my first name. We’ve gone over it a dozen times and it has actually become a private joke. I’m her boss, she insists, and it’s a matter of respect. It would go against her grain to call me Rowena in the office, even though we do have a friendship of sorts.

“Well, as I was saying, I was just about to buzz you to see if you would make up an envelope for me so I could get this” I had picked up the Excel spreadsheet from my out box and waved it in the air. “off of my desk and off of my mind and here you come through the door with the envelope in hand. Bless you!”

“It’s nothing really. I was in the middle of transcribing the cassette you put on my desk last night. There’s a memo on it to remind you to send Sandra the quarterly cash recap again.”

Carolyn’s high pitched voice still tends to catch me off guard even though I’ve been hearing it for years. The sound of it is in such contrast to her appearance. She’s nearly six feet tall, big boned and wears dark masculine suits virtually everyday.

I listened, smiling, as she explained modestly, “I just made up the envelope and was bringing it in here to you when you must have thought about me and looked up.” The light in her eyes though had suggested she was pleased that I was pleased.

I nodded and shook my head with dread, my mood changed immediately. I forgot I had dictated the reminder. Sandra Durante is an accountant who works for the CPA firm I retain and I surely am not looking forward at all to the meeting I have scheduled with her on Wednesday. She’s been on my case something fierce about a line item expenditure that has been a little out of whack. I’ll admit I have gone somewhat overboard with my personal entertainment budget, but, hey, it is my money. I don’t know why she’s making such an ugly issue out of it.

Just as I expected, she clasped her hands over her breast in excitement before she realized it. We both knew what an affect Drew had on her even though she’s almost 25 years his senior. She’s been happily married to her husband Harvey, a D.C. cop, for nearly forty years, but, just the mention of Drew’s name blows her away every time. It’s amusing. She treats him like he’s a rock star or something any time she sees him.