She had felt the heat of eyes on her in the hall, the elevator and the lobby and considered returning to the safety of her room. Maybe the attention she was getting wasn’t worth it. Being there by herself caused her to stick out of the crowd. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat as she approached the hostess stand. “Table for one,” she told the hostess.
“Great,” she said looking at the chart on her podium. She was young and pretty. Megan immediately disliked her. “It’s going to be about 10 to 15 minutes. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” Megan said.
“Great. Name?” she said in a bubbly voice.
“Rice,” Megan said quietly.
“Great! You can wait in the bar area,” she said. Megan guessed everything was “great” to the hostess.
“Great,” she said in reply and half mockingly.
Megan walked toward the bar area on her left. It was dark in the restaurant and bar, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust before she could make her way in to find a seat. She heard several men’s voices boom in laughter. She hoped they hadn’t laughed at her. She found the bar stool nearest to the door, but she never sat with her back to the door anymore. She walked down the long side of the bar. There were three people sitting next to each other talking with the bartender and couples on either side of them. She walked past them, rounded the corner and sat facing the door on one of the four stools along the short side of the bar. Had she been in a bar since that day? She swallowed hard and looked at the glass bottles lined up on the wall. She turned her hand over and looked at the tiny white scars on the palm of her hand where the doctors had picked out broken glass. Just as she was about to leave, the bartender walked up to her.
“What can I get you?” His voice startled her. She looked at him as he put a white square napkin on the bar in front of her. He didn’t look anything like the bartender behind the counter that day.
“Um, nothing. I’m just waiting for a table,” she said.
“Okay, let me know if you change your mind,” he said.
“Wait!” she said quickly as he started to walk away. “I’m sorry. I changed my mind.” The bartender walked back to her. “I’ll have a glass of Merlot,” she said rolling the corner of the napkin.
“Sure thing,” he said. He walked away again and returned with a glass of wine.
“Thank you,” she said only briefly glancing at him.
“You’re welcome. My name’s AJ. Just let me know if you need anything else,” he said, and she nodded. He walked away, and she took a sip of her wine. She heard a boom of laughter come from the group along the long side of the bar. She looked up and saw a man she recognized. He had dark hair with heavy touches of grey. This was the same man from breakfast this morning, but she hadn’t really seen his face until now. He took her breath away. He was movie star attractive in a Cary Grant meets Gregory Peck kind of way, only he was broader through the shoulders and maybe a little more muscular than the tall slender men of 50s Hollywood or like Will. She couldn’t look away fast enough, and he caught her staring. She quickly went back to rolling the napkin, but couldn’t get his face out of her mind. It was distinguished, full of life and oddly familiar. She wanted to look again at the stranger to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. She tried to think of a reason to look. She cleared her throat, straightened on her barstool and sought the bartender, who was talking with the stranger and the couple seated with him.
“Um, excuse me,” she said her voice cracking from nerves, which caused her to involuntarily make a painful expression. The young man behind the bar smiled a sly, guy smile at the stranger and moved toward her. She managed only a glance at the man, who was in turn looking at her. She felt her face burn with embarrassment.
“What can I do for you?” the bartender asked and leaned up against the bar, both arms outstretched to brace himself as if he was going to do a pushup on the bar to impress her. Now that he was standing in front of her, she thought quickly for a reason.
“May I see a menu, please?” she replied thinking how stupid it sounded and shook her head ever so slightly in disgust. She shrank on her bar stool.
“The soup is great here,” the stranger said from down the bar. She looked at him embarrassed by her transparency. He had seen through her meager attempt at finding an excuse to talk to him. She wanted to cry.
“Thank you. I’ll have to try it,” she said and took the menu from AJ when he returned. She opened it and hid her face behind it. She took a deep breath and remembered her fast talking, man-manipulating days. The days when she felt confident in herself and could work a man into giving her the details for a story even if it painted him in an unpleasant light. Maybe she was a completely different woman now. Her mind raced, and she didn’t realize the bartender had returned.
“The gentleman would like to buy you another drink and a cup of soup,” AJ said. She wanted to say yes, but fear overcame her.
“You know, I think I changed my mind,” she said closing the menu. “I think I’m just going to have dinner in my room.” She opened her purse for money and noticed herself shaking. She pulled out a fifty dollar bill, put it on the bar and stood to leave. She kept her head down to avoid looking at the man who had just offered to buy her dinner or at least a cup of soup.
“Whoa, let me get you some change,” AJ said.
“No, that’s okay,” she said as the shaking entered her voice. “Keep it.” She didn’t want to have to stay there and wait for change. She walked as quickly as her heels would let her. She was used to gym shoes or flats now. As a reporter in New York, she could run down a street chasing a byline in three inch heels. Just as she started pushing the elevator button with relentlessness, she heard a voice.
“Hey, hey, hey,” the man’s voice said. She pushed harder and faster. “Hey,” the man’s voice said again taking her hand, and she unconsciously made a fist to hide the scars and what she was holding. “You’re going to push that button right through the wall.” She was shaking harder now and tried to pull away from him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered keeping her eyes on the pointy toes of her shoes.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend or upset you.” She looked up, and the stranger from the bar was standing in front of her. He wasn’t as tall as Will, but he was still about half a head taller than she was even with her heels. She guessed him to be 6’1 or 6’2. He was darker than the fair haired Will, and he was just as impressive in the light as he was in the bar. His eyes were dark and warm with long dark lashes. She didn’t know what to say and realized she was staring at him. He was wearing a black turtleneck with a dark grey sport jacket over it and black dress pants with a black belt that had a classy, small silver buckle. He could have been a model in a magazine.
“No,” she mustered in a weak voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m not good around people.” She thought about how that sounded and decided to add something to it. “I mean… I just… I’m painfully shy.” She looked down, and her hand was still in his. It felt good. When was the last time she touched someone? His hand was large and warm. It swallowed her small hand - just like Will’s.
“Well, again. I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have known how shy you were from the plane and van.”
“Plane and van? Were you sitting behind me?” she asked trying to hide the fact she had noticed.
“Yes. I also noticed you in the dining room this morning and reading in the lobby this afternoon,” he said. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it.
“Oh,” she said hoping she hadn’t done anything embarrassing like adjust her bra strap while he was watching. The elevator dinged, and the door opened. She looked at it and then back at their hands. When had she pulled the tie clip out of her purse? “I was just going to eat in my room,” she said quietly. He let go of her hand.
“Okay,” he said. She stepped in the elevator, and as the door was closing, he put his arm up to stop it. “Or,” he said. �
�You could come have dinner with me. I could help you overcome your shyness.”
“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly.
“Look,” he said. “You look absolutely amazing, and it’s a shame to let the dress go to waste.” She wasn’t convinced. “And you don’t have to say anything. You can just sit there and make all the men in the room extremely jealous of me.” She laughed out loud.
“That’s the worst line of crap I’ve ever heard,” she felt the air fill her lungs and lift her spirit. He smiled at her. She hadn’t felt this way since the few days she had with Will. She returned the smile.
“Fine. Then you’ll have to listen to reason. You have to eat something,” he said. “Come on.” He offered her his arm. She tried to slip the tie clip in her purse without him noticing. She tentatively stepped forward and put her arm through his. “That’s better. My name is Jack Hamilton.”
“Nice to meet you, Jack,” she said, and they stepped out of the elevator together.
* * * * *
Jack’s table wasn’t ready when they returned to the restaurant. So they went to the bar. AJ appeared with a fresh glass of wine for her. “I’m glad you came back,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said shyly and sat down on the stool.
“This guy is such a good tipper I was beginning to think he was interested in me!” The group laughed, and Megan allowed herself a small, nervous laugh.
“Sorry, AJ. I don’t think you could pull off this dress,” Jack said, which brought another round of laughter. “I’d introduce you, but you didn’t tell me your name,” Jack said and put a reassuring hand on the small of her back.
“Oh, sorry. It’s Megan. Megan Rice,” she said suddenly feeling secure with his hand on her back.
“Everyone, this is Megan,” Jack said. He introduced her to the couples. “And you know AJ,” he added. She nodded and said hello to everyone. “So, we were talking about a story I read in the paper this morning before you came into the bar. Some group was trying to rank the worst songs ever.” This brought more laughter.
“I still think you had the best one, Jack,” Madison, one of the young females said flirtatiously. Megan could tell her husband didn’t care, which amused her. “I never understood that muskrat song.”
“Jack?” a female voice said from behind them. They all turned. It was the hostess. “Your table is ready.”
“Okay, thanks, Jillie. Can they set it for two instead?” Jack asked and started to stand.
“For you? No problem,” she said and left the bar. Megan noted how people responded to him. Women wanted his attention, and the men seemed to want to be his best friend. She was amused by this, yet she felt a shiver run down her spine.
Jack led her out to the reception area and waited for the hostess to collect another menu. They followed her through a dimly lit room with music playing softly. Each table had a white linen table cloth and an enclosed candle burning in the center. The sound of silverware clanking and the low murmur of voices filled the air. It was hard for Megan to believe this was the same bright dining room where she had breakfast.
Jillie led them to a table by the large windowed wall near where Jack had been sitting that morning. There were lights shinning on the ice outside, but there were only a few adult skaters. Jack held out her chair for her and helped her scoot into the table. He then moved to take his seat.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said quietly as she placed her napkin in her lap.
“Yes. It is,” he said smiling. “So, Megan Rice have you ever been here?” She looked at him suspiciously and took a moment to consider her answer.
“No,” she said and picked up the menu hoping it would stop any more questions.
“A woman of few words,” he said smiling and picked up his menu. “You can talk when you’re ready.” They sat for a few moments studying the menu. She decided she needed to find out more about this man, so she closed her menu and put it on the table.
“Why are you here alone?” she asked abruptly.
“Okay. You want to cut to the chase,” he said with a grin and closed his menu, too. His eyes wrinkled when he smiled. His teeth were white and straight. She couldn’t believe she was sitting across from him. “I’m working,” he said. She looked confused. “I’m checking out this place for a convention my company is considering having here.”
“Where do you work?” she asked feeling a little like Kristine chasing a story.
“The government,” he replied. She looked even more confused, and he laughed. “I’m a pencil pusher for the IRS. We like to meet each year before tax season to go over new information. I’m here scoping out this place for the end of the year.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Hey, don’t sound so disappointed. I promise I won’t audit you,” he said still grinning. “Of course, I’m used to it. No one likes the IRS.”
“I’m not a big fan of the government in general,” she said without considering her words. “Isn’t it tax season now? Shouldn’t you be pushing a pencil?”
“Try not to hold it against me,” he said leaning forward. “I don’t actually do the auditing and stuff.”
“I’ll try,” she said. He had an ease about him that made her want to relax. Still, she couldn’t chance too much and wasn’t even sure she knew how to relax anymore. “If you work for the IRS, why were you on my plane?”
“The IRS has offices all over. I was there on business.” He said. She noticed it didn’t take him long to answer so it wasn’t as if he had to come up with one. “So, do I get to ask some questions now?” he asked. She thought for a moment. It may set off more alarms if she said no.
“You can try, but I’m not promising answers.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “So, why is a beautiful woman like you here by herself?” She swallowed and prayed for someone to come take their order.
“I don’t know,” she stumbled for a reason. “I guess I don’t have many friends. Like I said, I’m shy.”
“Well, I’ll consider it my lucky day then.”
“I wouldn’t count on getting too lucky today.” She slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized what she had said and how sarcastic it sounded. He laughed at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not?” he asked still laughing. “It was funny.” She let herself smile. A waitress walked up to the table.
“Hi. I’m Christine, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” Megan’s heart sank at her words. She looked at the young lady’s name tag to make sure she heard her correctly. It was spelled differently, but the impact was the same. “Can I get you something from the bar or an appetizer?” Megan didn’t hear another word.
“Megan?” Jack reached across the table.
“What?” she replied moving her arm out of the path of his hand.
“Are you okay? You’re as white as this table cloth.”
“Fine. I’m fine,” she said.
“Do you want a drink?” he repeated.
“What? No,” she said. “You know, I’m not feeling very well all of the sudden.” She put the napkin on the table and stood.
“Uh, wait,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“No,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” She walked quickly from the dining room and didn’t chance waiting for the elevator. She took the stairs and ran up the three flights in her heels. She opened the door to her room. Most of the lights were on. Megan always left lights on - even when she slept. Tears ran down her face, and she couldn’t catch her breath. She threw her purse on the dresser and then rushed after it. She pulled out the tie clip and threw herself on the bed. She sobbed until there were no more tears. She had had a student named Christine once, but it hadn’t had this impact. Maybe it was because she was out of her comfort zone.
Her nose was stuffy, and she could feel the puffiness in her face and eyes. She stared at the ceiling thinking about how crazy she must have seemed. There was a knock on the door.
�
��Who is it?” she called with a voice that sounded like she had been crying. She stood up and walked to the door.
“It’s Jack.”
“Jack, now’s not a good time,” she said standing by the door.
“Megan, I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t know you’re okay. Please open the door.” She closed her eyes and thought about it for a minute. “Come on, you really don’t want to see me after a sleepless night. I’m really quite frightening.”
“Hold on a minute,” she said and went to the bathroom mirror. She looked awful with red, puffy eyes. She had cried off most of her makeup and what was left had run down her cheeks. She dampened a wash cloth and rubbed her face. She quickly blew her nose into a rough, thin, hotel tissue and went back to the door. She put her head down and opened the door.
“Can I come in for a minute?” he asked and walked past her before she could say no. She kept her head down and followed him. She leaned against the wall of the small entry way across from the bathroom. If he had been a couple of minutes later, she would have been asleep. He took a step toward her and lifted her face with his finger. She sniffled and tried to avoid looking into his eyes. “Want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“Honey, you’re anything but fine.” He put his hand behind her neck as he spoke. “Did you know you’re beautiful?” She made a sarcastic, short grunt. “You really are.” He pulled her closer so her head was resting on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. She took a deep breath. This was the safest she had felt since Will had held her. Still, she couldn’t totally relax. “You deserve smiles and happiness, not tears and hiding in a hotel room,” he said. “Let me help you,” he whispered.
“I really wish you could,” she said and then wished she hadn’t. As safe and warm as she felt, she broke free from his hug and walked back to the door. She forced a smile and said, “I’m really fine now. I just needed a good cry. It was probably hormones or something,” she said hating herself for using the irrational, hormonal woman excuse. He followed her to the door and stopped her before she could open it.
Bylines & Deadlines Page 9
