I returned to the table and said, “I need to check the ladies’ identification.”
“How dare you ask us for our Id’s,” One pretty blond with a ponytail said while fumbling in her purse. As Brandon and his male friend looked on amused, the young woman with the dark hair bristled with resentment and her eyes narrowed into slits.
“Well if you don’t show me your identification, I can’t serve you alcohol. I can take a library card,” I said tapping my foot. I saw a smile cross Brandon’s handsome face.
“Here,” they echoed, and they threw their college IDs in front of me.
“I see that you’re a freshman in college. I can see how the gentleman thought you were older,” I said to the blond sitting close to Brandon, “you are only eighteen and I can’t serve you alcohol, but if you would like a soft drink…”
“Haven’t you been eighteen once and had a drink?” She asked a question that was all too personal and revealing. In those seconds she stirred up memories simmering, boiling, and soon to burn, and the stink of the old memories would stay long after the new memories faded.
I looked over at Brandon and rolled my eyes. I swiveled on my heels and walked away from the table.
When I returned to take their dinner order everyone was quiet.
“I’ll order for everyone,” Brandon said peering at me. “We’ll have Maine Lobster.”
“We don’t have Maine Lobster, sir. Only what’s on the menu,” I stated in a low arrogant voice. He affected me by his order and I suspected he knew what he was doing. Why was he angry after all these years? I knew why I appeared hostile. What was his problem?
“Then we’ll have this instead,” he said pointing. I had to lean in close to him to see what he was pointing at. He could have just said what he wanted. When I got closer to him I smelled his scent. It was a familiar scent that drove me to him. It was a cross between natural body odor and his expensive cologne—Champaca Absolute with its smell of musk and wild flowers.
Standing lost in his scent with my eyes half closed day dreaming about how he held me in his arms, I was jolted back to reality by what he said to the blond. He turned to the pretty eighteen year old and said, “Remind me to take you to Maine for Lobster.” I became incensed and I didn’t think I could make it through their meal. It was downright ugly and nasty what he did to me. After taking everyone’s order I wobbled to the kitchen with shaky legs. “Spencer, please take my table, I’m not feeling well,” I said out of breath.
“Are you sure?” Spencer said excited. “Mr. Charles is a big tipper. Don’t worry, I’ll split with you.” And he hurried out to cover for me.
I stood in the back hiding from the reminder of how happy I had been lately not thinking about Brandon. When Spencer returned he said, “Tyler, Mr. Charles is making a big stink about you not waiting on him. I think he’s trying to get you fired.”
I marched back to the table, my arms crossed ready for a confrontation, when I saw him stand up and move in my direction. I didn’t want to see him no less talk to him, but I had to because this job afforded me the opportunity to make a decent living, until I could get a position at a financial institution.
“What is it you want Brandon? Haven’t you done enough to me? Can’t you see I need this job?” I whispered. My eyebrows arched.
He didn’t say a word. His eyes took me in moving over me from head to breasts. He looked at my hair, his glances trailed to my face, and his gaze stayed on my lips as if he remembered the kisses we shared. “I can’t talk to you in the middle of the restaurant,” he said taking my arm and leading me to a hall near the restrooms.
“It’s the policy of this hotel for the employees not to socialize with customers,” I said looking around and worried that someone would take his actions the wrong way.
“I could care less what anyone thinks. I can buy this hotel and sell it if I wanted.” His voice softened. “When can I see you?”
“Never. Now let me go back to work.” I turned to leave but he stepped in my way.
“You can’t go back until you agree to see me.” He glared into my eyes.
“You have had too much to drink, Mr. Charles,” I said emphasizing the word drink.
“Why are you calling me Mr. Charles? I remembered when you screamed out Brandon when I made love to you.”
“You weren’t making love to me, you were fucking me,” I said to him without a smile. He stood back in surprise.
“I never thought that you would say something like that. You have changed,” he said. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment, however, I recovered instantly as soon as I remembered what he did to me, or what I did to myself.
I lifted my head, looked him in the eyes and said, “It’s been five years and I’m no longer eighteen. I understand you only date eighteen year olds but you marry older women.”
“Then if that’s true,” he said, “then you should be the right age for me.”
“Not unless you want to be charged with bigamy. I’m done.” I pivoted around him and away from him and went back to work. Spencer took over my duties at Brandon’s table and he didn’t bother me for the rest of the evening. About midnight when the restaurant was closing, I noticed that Brandon was still sitting in the booth but his friends had gone. Spencer was delivering another drink to him.
I intercepted the drink. “No.” I took it off the tray. “Don’t give him anymore.”
Brandon raised his voice and with slurred speech he said, “Who are you to tell me that I can’t have a drink. I’m Brandon Charles. I always get what I want.” He looked up and his voice lowered to a murmur, “I want you Tyler. Don’t you remember, I love you?”
“You don’t love me, you love your wife,” I said and the words choked in my throat. His head fell on the table with a thud.
“My what, who?” he queried raising his eyes.
“Your wife,” I repeated. “Spencer call a cab for Mr. Charles.”
“He doesn’t need a cab, he lives in one of the suites in the hotel.” OMG. Now I have to be reminded of him every time I come to work? I sighed. I have to see his handsome face and be confronted with my past? This is too much for me to handle, I thought. I didn’t want to think of Brandon and I would do my best to avoid him.
“Then get someone to help him to his room,” I said turning to Spencer.
“Only if you come with me,” Brandon said. He wasn’t entirely inebriated or he had planned this. When he stood I knew then it wasn’t a plan. He almost fell on the table but Spencer caught him. Spencer called for our restaurant manager to help him to his room. I stood and waited. The hotel manager spied Brandon and rushed over in time to hear Brandon say, “I want Tyler to help me. You too,” he said pointing at Spencer. He looked at Spencer’s name plate. “Spencer, that’s your name?” he asked, “you come along too. I want you to help Tyler.”
“Tyler, if you help Mr. Charles to his room, there will be a bonus for you on your next pay check. After all he is one of the owners of this hotel.” Why wouldn’t he tell me he owned the hotel? Oh snap, I would quit.
“Ok,” I said with spite and apprehension dripping in my voice. “But I want Spencer to stay with me in that room.”
“Anything. Just get him to his suite,” the manager said looking around to see if anyone noticed or heard him compromise my integrity. Spencer glanced at me and hunched his shoulders. Brandon sat with one hand under his chin waiting for us to decide what to do with him.
Spencer looped Brandon’s arm around his neck and tried to lift him from the booth. Spencer a tall and strong young man, who had been a football player in college expected to be drafted by a pro-team, sustained an injury, which shot his dreams to hell. He worked a summer job as a waiter to help pay the bills until the job market opened up. “Ok, Mr. Charles. You have to help me out. I can’t carry you to your room. You’re dead weight and I need you to stand on your own.”
“Brandon. Wake up,” I said. I wanted to slap him for so many things. A slap in the face would have go
tten his attention. But that was cruel. Not as cruel as he had been leaving me in his family’s house alone that night. I tried not to be bitter because as an adult, I had to suck up my bitterness and move on. Well, I tried.
Brandon glanced at me, tilted his head to the side and smiled. That handsome face stayed fresh in my mind. I didn’t want to show my feelings but I was turned on.
We bonded that weekend we slept together in that secluded cottage in Maine and nothing could change that for me.
Brandon finally rose and Spencer helped him to his feet. Spencer dragged him to his private elevator with me walking behind them. He reached for the keys Brandon held out to him. Spencer placed the keys in the elevator lock and it opened.
I grimaced at Brandon. I thought he was three sheets to the wind drunk out of his mind but he wasn’t. “Spencer, you’re a good man. If you need a job, I can make you an offer you can’t refuse,” Brandon said to him laughing and looking at me. Spencer laughed too.
“I might take you up on that offer, Mr. Charles.” Spencer’s glance shifted to me and I frowned and shook my head. But I knew too well that Spencer wouldn’t listen. He needed money and couldn’t make enough to live comfortable in New York City with the high rent. That’s why I would head home to New Jersey. But when I had a long shift, I would spend some nights with Chris who never took the money I offered, but I left it there all the same.
Chris didn’t have problems with rent or anything. Spencer and I were from working class families and every cent we had proved precious to us.
Chapter 9
“We’re here Mr. Charles.” Spencer opened his door to the penthouse. The foyer had beams overhead and two large chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. Walking into the living area I spotted a spectacular floor-to-ceiling view of Central Park. His rooms elegant and decorated in Art Deco style. A white grand piano sat in the living area. Then I turned to face a dramatic open-air terrace of the Manhattan skyline.
“Spectacular,” I whispered.
“Yes you are my princess,” Brandon murmured. He then stood upright hardly drunk at all and said, “That will be all Spencer. Call me tomorrow. I have employment for you.” Spencer turned and looked at me. I made a step to follow him when Brandon caught my arm and stopped me. Spencer glanced back to check if I was ok. “Ms. Burns will be ok Spencer. I promise you.”
Spencer’s brow creased. “I’ll be fine,” I said with assurance.
“If you need me I’m down stairs,” Spencer said raising an eyebrow at me. His glance turned to a stare and settled in Brandon’s direction. Finally, Spencer felt convinced and he turned and walked to the elevator door, stepped in, and closed the door.
We stood in silence staring at each other. I broke the silence. “What do you want Brandon? You’re a married man and I don’t need to be associated with you. You have affected my life to the point that I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
“You have affected me in the same crazy way. Nothing is real for me without you.” And a silence stood between us again. Brandon looked at me with his sexy smirk and his mouth lifting at the corners. I couldn’t move from that spot. I took in all of him down to his long legs. When he did move he came to me. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to love him. And that’s why I did nothing but stand there and let him claim my mouth.
His mouth slid over mine and his tongue sliced through my mouth’s heated opening, making me weak with desire. When we came up for air, “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years,” Brandon said breathless.
My breasts were heaving up and down and Brandon’s eyes fell to them. “I want you so bad I can taste you.”
“We can’t. Have you forgotten something?”
“I can forget everything and everybody when I’m with you. Make me forget,” he said holding my hands to his lips.
“I can’t forget that you’re married. I’m leaving now before we have another bout of unprotected sex. And trust me, it will not do any of us any good.”
“Stay with me a while longer,” he said not releasing my hands.
“And do what, catch up on old times?” I said.
He sank in one of the silk covered sofas and pulled me down beside him. “What’s wrong with that? Why can’t you stay with me and talk? Tell me what you’ve been doing.”
“Living and trying to survive, Master of the Universe,” I said with sarcasm dripping in my words.
“Why didn’t you call me?” He said reaching for my hand.
I moved my hand away from his and said, “For what reason? So you can show me your wedding photos and describe how you fucked your wife on your wedding night,” I said. I stood to go and he stood beside me looking at me.
He didn’t deny anything and just said, “I wanted it to be you. I love you. Why are you so bitter?”
“I guess you wouldn’t understand, now would you? A man with everything wouldn’t understand that love and marriage is important.”
“I have the same wants and desires as you. I want to be happy in my marriage but it didn’t work out that way,” he said. “I wanted to marry the girl of my dreams but it didn’t work out.” His eyes burrowing into me and hiding there.
“Now I suppose you are giving me that my wife doesn’t understand me line,” I said trying to get everything off my chest before I bolted for the door in tears.
“You haven’t heard my side of the story…”
“And I don’t want to hear it,” I said.
“You’re going to listen,” he said holding me close with both hands.
“You and who else are going to make me,” I said sounding juvenile. I wanted to know why he didn’t come back when he said he would. I wanted to know that he loved me above all others. After I said those words, I heard the elevator door. “Who is it this time? Last time it was your mother. I guess I will have the humiliation of seeing your wife.”
“I don’t want you to leave. Stay here with me,” he said standing to meet whoever would come through the doors. I tried to walk away and he pulled me near him again and held my hand. I wasn’t prepared to meet a wife.
I wasn’t prepared to meet even a girlfriend.
“I’m leaving.” But before I could commit to a long walk of shame down that long foyer to the elevator, and have to step aside for another women to enter his apartment, the door opened and there stood Spencer. My eyes shut with relief.
“I forgot to give you back your keys.” Spencer lay Brandon’s keys on the nearest table. He looked over at me and said, “Are you ok? Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes,” I said. And I pulled my hand from the security and warmth of Brandon’s hands to leave with Spencer and his prying eyes.
Chapter 10
That Monday I had the breakfast shift and an interview for a job after lunch. I noticed that Spencer didn’t show for work. It wasn’t like him to be late. He was always punctual even through rain and snow. One day he showed up when the snow was three feet deep and stayed in the hotel sleeping in the kitchen on a cot. He was that dedicated or needed the money.
I asked the restaurant manager about Spencer. “Mr. Charles hired him and he no longer works here,” he said. The manager was more perturb because Spencer was a good worker. He thought Spencer would be hauling food and drinks forever, at least as long as he was on the job.
Deep inside me I longed to see Brandon. I ached for a look at his spectacular face. Spencer I missed, but seeing Brandon made me feel alive again.
I managed to get out of work by twelve noon, my appointment was at one for an interview for a small family owned bank located around the corner on Madison Avenue. I dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt with cuffs, and on my neck pearls my mother left me. I dashed through the door, stood on the curb to hail a cab. Lunch hour was still going on and all the cabs were busy when I spotted a black limo parked nearby. Leaning near the car, I caught sight of Spencer dressed immaculate in a black suit smiling and talking to a doorman. I saw him in jeans and a uniform of white sh
irt, black slacks and apron. It was a pleasant surprise to see him looking handsome and cheerful.
“Spencer,” I called out. He turned and waved with a bright smile and I walked over to him. “What are you doing now?” I said kissing him on the cheek.
“I’m working for Mr. Charles. How do you like me?” He turned around showing off his new suit.
“I like you fine. I didn’t think he was serious about employing you.”
“It seems that his old driver quit or he fired him because he needed someone younger. His mother hired the old guy and Mr. Charles didn’t like him reporting everything he did to her.
“I can see how sleeping with a different woman every week when you’re married can be a bit disturbing to an older gentleman,” I said waiting for a reaction from Spencer. That bit of sarcasm was lost on Spencer. He was caught up in the euphoria of working for Brandon and a bump in his pay. He didn’t get it, or maybe he did. His mantra was he didn’t judge. So I changed the subject.
“But you can’t work as a limo driver just like that?” I queried.
“I have my hack’s license. Got that in college. I worked part time at night to pay bills. His eyes made a quick once over me like a bird of prey. “You look beautiful. I didn’t realize you have such lovely long legs. I’m used to seeing you in a waiter’s uniform. Those black pants and vest did nothing for you.” I wanted to scream. I had been working with him for two years and he never noticed me. Maybe it was that uniform? I thought.
“I have to go. I can’t get a cab,” I said walking past Spencer.
“You shouldn’t walk. I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he said smiling.
“Are you sure you can take me?”
“Yeah. Especially since Mr. Charles left orders that if I see you, I should give you a ride even to your home in New Jersey.” He opened the door. I felt special. Not like the time when Brandon flew me on his jet to Maine, but special none the less.
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