The View from Suite 2100

by Allen, Tess

  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.

  “Oh, so you slept so hard you didn’t hear your phone ringing?”

  “Apparently. What is this Drew? Forty questions?”

  I eased down in an overstuffed leather chair and smiled, enjoying the game; glad I was the one playing it for a change.

  “No, what this is is good morning to my lady, and an apology again for disappointing you.”

  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.

  “Drew, listen, I’m going to need to call you back.”

  “Rowena, you know we’ve got a lot of history, girl. I realize I can be a real cad sometimes –“

  “No, Drew, it’s ‘ass’ – you can be a real ass sometimes.”

  “Oh, now that’s rich. You don’t usually resort to name calling. Do I need to be concerned here? Cause if I do, baby –“

  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.

&
nbsp; “Thanks, Carolyn. I’m meeting Sandra tomorrow morning.” I could feel my nose wrinkle. “I’d rather have a root canal.”

  Carolyn laughed, nodded in agreement and started out the door.

  “Oh Carolyn, Drew is on his way here. You can just send him in when he arrives, okay.”

  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.

  “Will he be here long enough for me to make him some fresh coffee? You know how he said he loves my Hazelnut coffee!”

  I nodded and she rushed out of my office in a tizzy, suddenly her authoritative professionalism gone as she headed for her personal stash of Robust Hazelnut Dreams.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, Sunshine.”

  The sound of Drew’s deep, silky voice calling me Sunshine as he eased into my office made me weak.

  I walked easily into his open arms. “Hey yourself.”

  I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I’d really been feeling it all day long. The late spring chill had been making me feel just that much more romantic. Feeling the need to just curl up with him in front of the fireplace in my den with an open bottle of, say, Riesling Eiswein, and spending the entire evening very slowly and sensually making up!

  “Girl, you look so good!”

  That silly grin started spreading across my face until I caught myself. Hold on a minute here, I thought. I still need to have at least a little attitude. Girl got to maintain some dignity.

  But before I could cop my attitude he had gathered me up in his arms. Within seconds he slipped one hand under my chin and lifted my face to receive his soft, probing soulful kiss. It was nothing short of awesome. I had to take a couple of steps back to clear my head and to remind him, “Down boy, we are in the office.”

  “You taste so good, I always get carried away.”

  He licked his lips like L.L.Cool J and I diverted my eyes from him quickly. Enough with the “so goods”, I’m still mad at you, I thought. He nodded, reading my mind.

  “Okay, I know you’re tee totally ticked off.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “I’m sorry, Rowena. I know how much you wanted to see Will Downing, and I’ll make it up to you, I promise. He’s appearing in Chicago on the 14th and I’ve already gotten us tickets. Let’s make a weekend of it, fly down, you know, do a little shopping. I’ll even let you drag me all through Bloomingdale’s.”

  Now you’re talking, I thought! Sister girl loves some Bloomingdale’s. He knows me too well. I saw him glance down at my new Emilio Pucci satin-print pumps as if to imply he’d buy me half-a-dozen more pair. He wasn’t being fair. I couldn’t let him think he could buy me off with a little leather!

  “So what brings you up to Suite 2100 this afternoon, Drew?”

  “You aren’t cutting a brother any slack today, are you?

  “Flip the script, Drew – would you take off of me what I take off of you for even one day?”

  “I’ve missed you, lady,” He grabbed my hand, clinging to it a moment, searching my face. “Desperately. I can’t live without you.”

  I was just about to let my guard down but something, some sixth sense, made me pause. I folded my arms and cocked my head. There was an odd look in his eye and a little something extra clinging to the words he just spoken.

  He eased down onto the leather couch against the wall, sitting on its edge. “I don’t deserve you, I really don’t, but you know I love you. That’s why I came … I wanted to tell you this myself, before you hear it from anyone else.

  I’ve seen that look before and it is not the kind of look that ever bodes well. My heart thundered.

  “What is it, Drew?”

  His hand covered his mouth and for a brief moment he closed his eyes. It was dread staring back at me when he opened them again.

  “Why don’t you sit down a minute, baby?” He said to me, his voice suddenly barely more than a whisper.

  Sit down? I know he didn’t just tell me to sit down! But a little voice inside said, ‘yes he did, and if you know what’s good for you you’ll take his advice.’

  My knees turned to jelly as I made my way around my desk and settled into my chair. Suddenly I wanted as much space between the two of us as possible. The length of my desktop between us hardly seemed enough.

  He closed his eyes again and shook his head.

  I was starting to get straight up pissed off.

  “Spit it out Drew! Whatever it is just spit it out!”

  He stood up and had the gall to start pacing.

  “The reason I couldn’t make it to our date Thursday was, as I said, a family meeting. Turned out mother had invited Gloria Munson for dinner –“

  My eyebrows knitted. “Gloria Munson, the editor of Noir Sophisticate?”

  “Yeah, she and mother are sorority sisters.”

  “Okay.”

  “It seems,” he turned in my direction. “seems mother made a commitment to Gloria without my permission.”

  An image of Gloria Munson sprinted across my mind. She’s his mother’s contemporary; a very stylish, attractive woman no doubt, but, like my assistant Carolyn, she’s several decades his senior. My mind was racing trying to get ahead of whatever blow he was about to deliver. What kind of commitment? I would think Gloria was an unlikely romantic candidate for him, not that I’d put that completely past his mother. No, that was ridiculous, but I couldn’t imagine any other kind of commitment between him and Gloria that should cause the kind of trepidation clearly written on his face.

  “You’re familiar with the annual bachelor segment ‘Available and Looking’ that Noir Sophisticate features, right?” A guilty expression replaced the trepidation.

  “Of course I am. Drew, what’s this about?”

  “It seems mother agreed I’d be a part of that article this year, as a matter of fact, Gloria’s going to feature me on the cover as this year’s most eligible bachelor.”

  Chapter Four

  “You called 911?” Alexia asked as I heard Becca gasping in shock in the background on our three-way hook-up. “Get outta here!”

  I now was the one pacing, walking room to room throughout my house on my cell phone, too antsy to stop and settle in any one spot. I called Alexia and started telling her about Drew’s ludicrous admission, but she wanted to include Becca in the conversation, so she hung up and had just called me back on a three-way.

  “Yep, when the paramedics got there they just rolled Drew out on a stretcher!”

  Alexia cracked up, but Becca didn’t realize I was joking.

  “Oh my goodness, Ro, what all did you do to him? Will the Ardmore’s press charges against you for hurting him? Oh, Lord, with their money, too!”

  As upset as I was, hearing Becca’s concern and Alexia’s devilish laughter at the same time on the other end of the phone was exactly what I needed at that moment.

  “Now Becca, you know I’d never stoop so low as to let anybody, especially a man, make me do something that crazy, don’t you? I’m not going to jail for anybody! All I really did was hand him his walking papers. I am too, too through with him.”

  There was silence a moment then I heard Becca exhale.

  “Wow, Ro, you really had me worried there for a minute! You know, with his father owning all those manufacturing plants, and all the government connections his people have -- ”

  “That’s okay, Becca. Thanks for being concerned. Drew is perfectly fine, but Ardmore Plastics and all its money or Drew senior and his controlling wife wouldn’t concern me if I had belted their ‘little boy’ one.” I sighed. “Plus, Melayne also believed I’d decked him when I told her the same thing I just told you two at first, too.”<
br />
  “You talked to Melayne? Is she still in D.C.?” Alexia asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, Rowena, if Melayne’s in town we need to call a real sister session at Magic Hands right now about this. You know we want to be there for you! I can request a couple of their private staff to come back in tonight for our session. A massage would do us all good. I know with all the crap I’ve been dealing with I could sure use one.”

  I walked from the living room into my den and flopped down finally on the couch. I glanced across the room at the cold fireplace and grunted. To think, less than two hours ago I was daydreaming about being all cuddled up with that animal! It nearly made me loose my train of thought.

  “Oh, yes, Melayne’s still here – think she’s stealing a little time for herself or something but I’m really okay, ladies. There’s no need to send out an alert for tonight. I just needed to commiserate with my girls for a minute. I’m feeling much, much better now.”

  “You sure?” Alexia asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Well, we still need a real sister session. How about Friday after hours at Magic Hands?” Becca offered.

  “Works for me.”

  “Me too,” Alexia chimed in.

  “Well, I’m calling Melayne.” Becca promised. “I can’t wait to talk to her about this. Rowena, you know she never really liked Drew! I bet she’s thrilled you dumped him.”