There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story (20 page)

“I thought it was awesome,” I declare and take a sip of wine.

Robert tilts his head. “What was awesome about it?”

I lift a finger, asking him to wait. I keep drinking until a response comes to mind. “Everything.”

“What’s everything?”

He knows I’m bullshitting. “The culture, the people.” I lift my eyebrows at Melanie. “The shopping.”

She frowns. “In Burgundy?”

I’m dizzy from the wine. Jeez, it works fast. “Oh, and then there’s the wine.”
 

“So you’ve been to Burgundy?” Robert asks, refusing to let it go. He looks amused.

“I guess not. Maybe. In my dreams.”
 

I finish the rest of the wine in my glass. Robert picks up the bottle to pour more.
 

“So, Robert,” Melanie says a little too loudly, to reclaim his attention. “I can’t believe you’re getting a divorce. Lena? Is that her name?”

“Yes, Lena. She was always too good for me,” he says.

“Oh, brother,” I mutter and drink half my glass.

“Do you have something to say, Maggie?” he asks.

“Nope.” I finish that glass too. “Two glasses of
di vino rosso
, and I’m going to sleep like a baby.” I slam the glass down and stand up. My head is spinning, so I sit back down.

“Relax,” Robert says like the devil in the white night gown from those old cartoons. “Enjoy the fire, the wine, and the company.”

“Right.” I sigh and rest my head on the high-back seat.

“Melanie, I wanted you to meet Maggie because she’s the new star of marketing at A&Rt.”
 

I sense that he’s facing me.

“Oh.” She’s not particularly impressed.

“Vincent and I went to high school with Maggie. Funny, we both liked her, but she liked me. Isn’t that right, Maggie?”

Everything he said sounded as if he spoke it from a distance. “Yeah,” I whisper.
 

“All right. You win. Up.” Robert helps me to my feet. “I’m taking her upstairs. I’ll return shortly.”

I shove him away with my elbow. “I don’t need your help. I can make it.”

“You drank the wine like it was water. So you do need my help.”

I gaze into his eyes. Why in the world did I drink so fast? I know better. A good bottle of wine sends your spirits soaring in a more remarkable way than a cheap bottle.

Robert has a hand around my waist as he walks me through the lounge. The people from our office are watching. This looks suspicious, especially with his reputation. I’m sure I’ll be vindicated once he rejoins Melanie. We make it to the elevator.
 

“Two glasses. Is that really all it takes?” he asks, amused.

“I’m not drunk. I’m relaxed. You’re overreacting, so go back to the lounge and work on getting laid tonight.”

Robert pushes the button. “I’d rather be with you tonight.”

The elevator dings and opens.
 

“No.” I shove his hands off of me.
 

He steps into the cab with me. I’m sort of glad he’s here to hit the number five button because I momentarily forgot that I’m on the fifth floor. I rest my head back against the wall. I feel Robert’s fingers slide gently down my neck.
 

“Graceful,” he whispers.

I open one eye. “What are you doing?”

The doors open. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beauty’s a dime a dozen, and you’re one man who’s definitely aware of that little factoid,” I say as I stumble out of the cab.
 

He grabs my hips to steady me. “Was that your way of calling me a cad?”

“Cad? Who says that anymore?” At least when it comes to speaking, all of my inhibition has spiraled down the drain.

A cell phone rings in his pants pocket.
 

“You shouldn’t keep that in there,” I warn. “I heard it’s dangerous.”

“Duly noted.” He shows me the screen. “It’s Vince.”

I swipe at the phone, but he pulls it away. “Don’t answer that.”
 

He ignores me. “Vince, how’s it going?

“I told you…” I start, but then I pipe down.

“Yes, that was her,” he says. “What? Sorry, can’t hear you.” He hangs up the call.
 

“You’re an asshole.”

“I thought you were over him.”

“I’m not. I’ll never be over him.” I moan, and I really feel like crying. Goodness, wine and exhaustion are making me hysterical. As soon as we arrive at my room, I slide the key card out of my back pocket. It’s a little bent from me sitting on it for an hour. “I can take it from here.”

Surprisingly Robert steps back like a gentleman. His giddy grin and flirtatious stare have disappeared.
 

I open my door. “Good night.”

“Good night.” He walks away.
 

I close the door and count to ten, expecting him to knock. He doesn’t. I look through the peephole. He’s gone. I’m relieved but worried. Is Robert starting to rub off on me?
 

I fight the urge to call Vincent to explain the unfolding of the night’s events, but what would be the purpose of that? I meant it when I said that I’m leaving him to his fiancée. I have to fight my impulses if I want to get over him. I won’t call Vincent tonight. Instead, I strip out of my clothes and go directly to bed.
 

The ringing of the alarm on my cell phone jolts me awake at eight thirty a.m. Vincent called twice while I was asleep and left two text messages, both asking me to call him. He’s making it difficult to for me to live and let be. I decide to contact him later after I’ve gotten into the work groove. That way, I’ll be in the right frame of mind to keep it professional.
 

I call Linda while putting on layers of clothes. We’re going to meet in the lobby at nine thirty a.m., and one of the cars will carry us to the lodge. I brush my teeth and try to do something about the purpling and puffiness under my eyes. I try a cold-water compress and then a warm-water one. I find eye drops at the bottom of my purse and try two drops in each eye. That works a little.
 

I slide into my puffer coat and go to the lobby for a cup of complimentary coffee. It’s a relief not to run into Robert. He has been giving me the feeling that he could jump out from behind a wall at any moment. Linda joins me at a tiny table in the lounge when I’m halfway done with my coffee.

“How do you feel this morning?” she asks.
 

“I’m fine. By the way, I wasn’t intoxicated last night,” I clarify.

“I didn’t think you were drunk, but you looked tired as hell. How did the meeting go with Robert and that woman?”

“I wouldn’t call it a meeting. They ran down memory lane together. I was too pooped to listen.”

“So why did he need
you
there for that?”

“I don’t know. I think he was playing games with her, trying to get laid.”

“Does a man of his caliber need to play games to get laid?”

I roll my eyes and lift the paper cup to my lips. “Oh, certainly! He’s probably bored with women in general, so he has to play games to keep it exciting—create the thrill of the chase. ” I flop a hand dismissively. “But enough about him. How did your day go yesterday? We didn’t get a chance to debrief each other.”

“I saw the commercial. You’re a genius.”

“Only three or four times a month.” I wink.
 

Linda laughs. For the next fifteen minutes, she shows me her ideas. I offer her some tweaks and explain why I’m suggesting them. However, we can’t validate them until the stations go live.

“So you made a minor sponsorship a major one,” she exclaims.

“Visibility equals dollar signs. Plus, always take what you can get. I learned that under Valerie Beacon.”

“You mean,
the
Valerie Beacon at Alpha Media Group?”

“The one and only.”

“I would kill to work for her,” Linda says.

“She’s legendary. She taught me everything I know.”

“Well, that explains why you’re kicking ass at A&Rt.”
 

 
The driver waves at us from the lobby.
 

“Oh, just wait until I show you how to work it today,” I say as we get up to go.

“I can hardly wait,” she replies.

Regardless of being charged up, Linda and I spend the rest of the day freezing our asses off. Most of the booths are up and ready to go. The major sponsors are here and staking their claim. We continue to receive complaints that we’ve taken someone else’s real estate.
 

I teach Linda to never argue, only smile and fix. “If a woman is being a real bitch, calmly tell her you understand and shake her hand. We’re here to make friends, not enemies—this is rule number one in the Valerie Beacon handbook.”
 

“Is that Darius Shockey in your commercial?” a representative from one of the major networks asks as we test the video over the stage.

“Why yes,” I sing with a grin.

He frowns. I think he’s trying to see scales on my skin or fangs in my mouth. “Is that why you get three minutes?”

I feign surprise. “Really? Three minutes?”

He checks his watch. “You don’t know the length of your own commercial?”

“I’m not the director, but Darius is so good. He competes professionally. Did you know that?”

He pauses with his lips frozen in a cynical sneer. He extends a hand. “Randy Flushing.”

I shake it. “Maggie Conroy.”

“I’ll see you around, Maggie.” He regards me shrewdly one more time before walking away.
 

“Yep,” I whisper once he’s gone. I love when a person can graciously accept defeat.

The hours pass. Whenever Linda or I want to make a change, we find Darius or one of his representatives, and they let us do whatever we can get away with. By midnight, I’m a human ice-cube, but I have to be the last one standing so that none of our tweaks are changed. Thank God we only have one more long, cold day to protect our interests.

I find Linda inside the lodge lurking around the media room. She’s the only one left in the building, and it’s finally time to go. We give each other a weak high five and climb into the backseat of our chauffeured car.

“Wake up, ladies,” the driver says.

The heater and the dark cab put us right to sleep on the way back to the hotel. We drag ourselves out of the car and give each other hugs goodnight in the lobby. She drags to the east elevators, and I drag west.
 

I press the button. The doors open. Robert and Melanie are in an embrace. I wait for them to step out so that I can step in, but they stand there.
 

“Are you going up?” I ask.

“Yes, we are.” He displays his trademark grin.
 

I reluctantly join them. Her perfume makes me sneeze.
 

“Received some gripes about you today, young lady,” Robert says from behind me.

I don’t turn around. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you. They were all good for us. Most of them wanted to know how the hell you managed to make the End of March Powder an A&Rt Media Group event.”

I face him with a smile. “Is it too much?” I ask, secretly proud of Linda and myself.

“Aren’t you the judge of that?” he asks.

“It’s really good work, Maggie,” Melanie comments without even a hint of a smile.

I nod to say thank you. The elevator opens on my floor. “Have a good night,” I mumble over my shoulder.

To my utter disbelief, they exit right behind me.
 

“Good night,” Robert says. He’s amused by something.

I stop at my door, and they stop at the door next to mine. “Are you kidding me?” I bark.
 

Robert opens the door to his room. “I’ll return shortly.” He practically shoves Melanie inside.

Here he comes. “Why are you in the room next to mine?” I ask.

“This is the room I was checked into.”

“No, it isn’t,” I snarl.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about this.” There goes his cocky grin.

I shake my head. “You really are a game-playing jackass.”

Robert backs me up against my door. “Do you want me to release you?”

My lips part. I’m speechless. For the second time, Robert takes the opportunity to sink his hot tongue into my mouth. I kiss him back.
 

“I could get rid of her,” he says breathlessly.
 

I nudge his chest. “This is all wrong.”

“It’ll be our secret.”

I take two deep breaths. “Good night, Robert,” I say loud enough for Melanie to hear.
 

He smirks, gives me one more look, and goes to his room. Crisis averted. Once I’m inside my room, I turn on the light.

“Did he kiss you?”
 

I jump, startled. “Vincent? What are you doing here?”
 

He strolls in my direction as if he’s walking on air. That fire in his eyes is ablaze.
 

“I thought you were going to be in Saint Tropez until the end of the week,” I say past the frog in my throat.

He unzips my coat. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

A loud bang captures our attention. We turn toward Robert’s room. That was the headboard.
 

Vincent peels open my coat. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Because…” I whisper. My teeth are chattering.
 

Vincent lowers his mouth to mine. My head feels like a cotton ball above my shoulders. He finishes taking off my coat while kissing me. He wraps me up in his arms and carries me to the bed. Our mouths refuse to pull apart. I’m whimpering. He moans.
 

Vincent tugs the layers of sweaters over my head. “Why do you have all of this on?” He yanks on the zipper of my pants.

“There’s snow outside,” I reply and go right back to kissing.

Vincent tugs on my bra to expose one of my breasts. He sinks his mouth over the nipple and sucks. I pitch my head back against the mattress to suck air between my teeth.

“Vincent, wait,” I finally say.

“Shit,” he curses. “These fucking clothes. I couldn’t get them off you fast enough.” He pulls off one of my tennis shoes and then the other. “You have on three pairs of socks? And stockings? You’re Fort Knox.”