by Pike, Leslie
“I thought you had come to a decision already. You told me Mitch had run the numbers and it was something you could afford. What changed?”
“Nothing. I just realized I need to think about it a little more. Hey, do you have the earbuds in your purse? I want to listen to that new jazz playlist.”
Oh boy.
Thank God it was just a short flight from John Wayne Airport to San Francisco. When we landed, the car and driver were waiting. It was an effortless transition. Jack spent the entire ride to the hotel talking with the driver about various films he’s worked on. Once he got started, he never stopped. That was the first time he hasn’t asked for the privacy screen so we could talk or do more. It’s as if he doesn’t want to be alone with me. Am I reading too much into this? I don’t think so.
We pull up to the entry of the Ritz Carlton, a hotel so majestic it looks like it belongs on a hill in Rome. But the 1909 neoclassical landmark sits right in the heart of downtown San Francisco, and the cable cars run right in front of the building. An elegant man, who looks like he could be a movie star himself, comes out to greet us before we’re even out of the limousine. Two bellhops remove our luggage from the trunk.
“Mr. and Mrs. Alden, welcome to the Ritz Carlton of San Francisco. My name is Quentin. I’m the Concierge, and I’ll be attending to your visit with us.”
He hands Jack the keycard for out suite and a business card as well.
“My private number’s on the card. If you need anything at all please don’t hesitate to call. Reservations, theater tickets, referrals, any and all requests can be met.”
“Thank you.”
We follow Quentin into the hotel. The interior is as beautiful as I remember. Marble floors, steel gray carpeting, with dove-gray walls.
“I think this is your first visit with us. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Jack says.
I decide not to contradict my husband with the news I’ve stayed here before. Three days and nights with a stockbroker whose name escapes me. He was a wild one. That was prior to the Jack tidal wave that washed all other men from my mind.
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here, Mrs. Alden. There’s a marvelous spa and our masseuses are renowned. Shall I book you for a couples massage tonight?”
“Thank you, Quentin, but we have other plans. Maybe tomorrow.”
“As you wish. Just give me a call if your plans change.”
We reach the elevator and he holds it open for us to enter.
“Your bags should be waiting in your suite, along with champagne and refreshments compliments of the Ritz Carlton.”
“How nice. Thank you,” I say.
“Very nice. We’ll have both,” Jack adds.
The door slides shut and Jack enters the keycard into the only slot. When you book the Presidential Suite, you get your own elevator. You can’t get any more exclusive than that. I flash back on my first days as a renter in San Francisco. I had to walk up three flights of stairs to my studio apartment. We had no elevator, let alone a private one.
“Beautiful here isn’t it?” he says.
“Yes. But I’m sensing something’s off with you.” I face the music.
“Everything’s fine. Why are you asking me that?”
“You’re acting strange. Maybe I’m wrong.” My eyes bore into him.
“You are.”
The elevator door opens to reveal the breathtaking suite. It’s as big as my last home was, a good two thousand square feet if I’m guessing right. Spectacular flower arrangements and a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries and exotic fruits sit on the table. Next to them is a bottle of expensive champagne chilling in a silver bucket.
Gray suede couches and ebony tables make for a rich looking setting. Teal leather chairs and thick ottomans are placed in front of the huge flat-screen television taking center stage on the wall. But the panoramic view trumps it all. I can see the steel-blue San Francisco Bay, dotted with wind whipped whitecaps. Off in the distance is Alcatraz Island. To the left Coit Tower stands guard on the hill with the city at its feet. It may be the very end of August, but it looks like fall.
“Oh, Jack. You did great. I love this place. Do you?”
He smiles and I see him relax a bit. It’s the first time today. He takes my hand and leads me toward the French doors which lead to another room.
“Come on, my bride. Let’s go see if their beds are as good as we’ve heard.”
I was going to suggest we make our important telephone calls, but priorities Nicki, priorities. The family can wait, this cannot. We haven’t made love since that awful night. And so I let him take the lead, through the French doors, across the room and to the bed. He scoops me up and lies me on top of the silky bedding.
“Let me undress you,” he says quietly.
He starts with my shoes, then undoes each covered button on my knitted top from neck to hem. Opening the bodice he unhooks my front clasped bra, then folds it back to uncover my naked breasts.
“Mmmm,” he says. But it lacks conviction. Like a person opening a gift too slowly. No passion to see what’s under the wrapping.
My skirt is next. He easily lifts my backside and relieves me of my clothing. Now all I wear is a delicate La Perla thong, which he peels off and tosses to the bedside chair.
“Now you,” I say sitting up on my elbows.
He drops his pants and removes his shirt without fanfare. The shoes get kicked off. He’s gone commando, so it’s over in a matter of seconds. I don’t see the usual expression of anticipation or lust or just plain interest on his face. He’s different. Not indifferent, but not the same.
“Come here, love. I need you next to me,” I say, trying to reboot his desire.
He gets on the bed and rolls me on top of him. We kiss. And we kiss. But his eyes are closed and he’s not completely present. I know that without a shadow of a doubt. He’s going through all the motions, but there’s been a sea of change. And there’s no denying it. He turns me over and gets on top. That was two minutes’ worth of foreplay and that’s stretching the estimation. He works his penis into my still-dry pussy. He knows it is; he can feel it I’m sure. But he doesn’t try to change that fact. He starts pumping. I’m staring at his closed eyes. I believe with all my heart he’s trying to get this over with as soon as possible.
Where are you, Jack? This scares me. I’m not making a sound because this doesn’t feel good or right. I’m just a vessel and he’s just a pump. At this moment we’re nothing more.
Pump, pump, pump.
He’s squeezing his eyes shut with the effort of a man who’s afraid he’s not going to be able to come, and he’s trying to will it so. Pump, pump, pump. I stop trying to meet his body’s rhythm. I just lay there. After all, what’s the point? Pump, pump, pump. After another minute of him trying and me doing nothing, he opens his eyes. He finds me looking right at him.
“What? You’re not into it?” he says, as if it’s my doing.
I move him out and off me. I climb off the bed and start gathering my clothes.
“Let’s not pretend this is about me, shall we?”
He doesn’t even try to contradict what I’ve said.
* * *
And so the last four hours have been excruciating for both of us. There was no fight or cruel words. It was just mostly silence, which can be the sharpest cut of all. We spoke when it was necessary and showered separately. When we dressed it was without comment from the other one. The fact that the experience was a less than stellar sexual encounter was ignored. I think we’re both afraid of what we’d hear if we start talking.
I’m a little numb. What we’ve had together up to now has been sexually and emotionally life changing. But now I’ve peeked in the window of another kind of relationship and it pales in comparison. And most importantly, I can’t forget it all started with the news of my pregnancy. I’m hurt right now, but I sense that soon I’ll just be pissed off. That’s when things can unravel. It’s a heartache either way.
Bliss
and Steven’s house rental is just ten miles from our hotel. It’s closer to the set and away from the traffic of downtown. But every one of those miles seem like five. Jack hasn’t even tried to deflect the conversation from us to the driver. He isn’t in the mood to talk to either one of us. So I oblige him and stay mostly silent. I lost in my own imaginings, and he looking through his texts and email.
“Can you put in that jazz tape, driver?” he says breaking the silence.
The music fills the space between us. Maybe that’ll drown out my thoughts. Ten minutes later we pull up to the house and we both practically jump out of the limo. I can’t get to the front door fast enough. Of course no other partygoers are here yet, because we’re a full hour early. That’s how desperate we are to get out of the hotel and be with our friends. Bliss will forgive me this faux pas. She’ll never make reference to it at all.
Jack rings the doorbell, and we can hear Bliss say something that has the word “early” in the sentence. Steven opens the door, and his face registers his surprise.
“Hey! You made it! We didn’t think you were coming. Come in.”
We find Bliss still in her robe and bare feet, but her hair and makeup are done.
“Oh my God!” She greets us with a big hug each and her gorgeous smile. There’s not a trace of annoyance on her face for showing up before the party starts.
“I know we’re early, but I couldn’t wait to see you,” I say, hearing a little despair in my voice.
“No need for apologies. Don’t you know I’m just happy you’re here?”
“It was entirely my fault. I wanted to start drinking.”
They think he’s joking, but Jack’s never said a truer statement.
Steven goes to the bar set up on the nearby table. “Good. Let’s start. We’ve got it all. What’s your poison tonight?”
“Give me a tequila shot. Have one with me.”
Steven pours two fingers worth of Patron in the shot glasses and brings one to Jack. “Only the best for you, brother. What about you, Nicki?” he says with a slight hesitation. He knows I shouldn’t be drinking for the next nine months, but he’s not sure he’s supposed to know about it.
I lift my shoulders in submission. “Jack knows that you know about the baby. I’ll have a Seven-Up or Pepsi, whatever you have.”
Stevens face relaxes. “Thank God. Now we can react properly. Congratulations, you two! It’s great news,” he says. He goes to Jack and gives him a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Bliss comes to me and encircles me in her love. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“Yeah, can you believe it? I’m going to be a father. That’s something I never thought I’d be saying.”
All eyes are on him, and everyone’s getting a little uncomfortable.
“But of course I’m happy about it. Really, really happy,” he says with no conviction. He puts an arm around my shoulders.
“The man’s happy. Did you both get that?” I drip sarcasm.
Chapter Eight
BLISS
Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. All I need is a cigarette holder, some red lips and an off the shoulder party frock. I’m channeling Bette Davis who famously warned her party guests the night would be full of drama. It would be smart to do the same for mine because I’ve got a bad feeling. All we wanted to do is celebrate the coming wedding and the first week of filming. It’s a magical time for Steven and me. But I laugh at our intentions, because life always gets in the way of the best-laid plans.
There’s going to be too many fiery players here tonight, in the throes of their own turbulent stories, to make for a smooth evening. BB and Paul, Alec and his son Darius, and now the most emotionally volatile of all, Nicki and Jack.
All I needed was to see their faces to know something’s seriously wrong. Can this all be the result of a spoiled man’s refusal to accept the unexpected? I don’t believe that. I’ve only known Jack for a few years, but I’ve seen nothing that would lead me to think he’s that shallow and selfish. Besides my own assessment, I respect my husband’s judgment. He feels so strongly about his best friend’s character. There’s something we’re missing here. But what is it that even his own wife doesn’t know, and why can’t he tell her?
“Nicki, come help me get dressed. The men will entertain each other.”
She follows me into the bedroom and shuts the door behind her. When I look at her face, I see her eyes fill with tears. Her lip trembles and she just shakes her head as if to say no words can express all she’s feeling. I take her hands in mine.
“It’s going to be all right. Talk to me.”
She breaks away, tosses her purse on the chair and goes to the bedside table for a Kleenex.
“I honestly don’t know what’s happening. He’s changed. He’s pretending to be happy about the baby, but he isn’t. And Bliss, we started to have sex today and it was…well, it was awful. He can barely make conversation with me, let alone make love.”
I can’t help but show my shock.
“That’s exactly how I feel about it. It’s horrifying.”
“You’ve got to find out what’s at the root of this. It’s too strong a reaction to be just the jitters over a baby coming. Don’t jump to any conclusions. Jack’s a good man who loves you. You know that. And I’m sure he’s going to love the baby too. He must not be telling you everything. Maybe he’s afraid of something else. You need to find out what part of the story you’re missing.”
She takes in my words and they seem to have a calming effect. Drying her eyes, she checks her image in the mirror.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“And if you find out it’s nothing more than him being an asshole, well then I’ll help you kick his ass. We’ll take him down together. Tag team him.”
We both laugh a little at the image. Nicki comes to me and holds me against her. She rests her head on my shoulder. She’s as delicate as the wing of a butterfly. But that’s just the physicality of her. Intellectually and emotionally I know she’s as strong as an ox.
“I love you, Bliss,” she whispers.
“I love you too.”
There’s a firm knock on the bedroom door.
“Uh, Bliss, you’d better get out here. People are starting to arrive. BB and her group are coming up the driveway,” Steven calls.
I give Nicki a pleading look. “Do me a favor. Go help him while I get dressed. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay. I’m glad we aren’t the only impatient guests. And thanks for the good advice.”
“We sisters have to stick together. I’ve got your back.”
I’m rewarded with a smile.
She leaves me to it. I grab my new white dress lying on the bed, and lift it over my head. It falls in a soft drape. I’m going bridal white tonight, just to stay with the theme of the evening. My camel colored high-heeled sandals are under the bedside chair. I slide them on. One more check in the mirror behind the bedroom door confirms I’m all together. Finally I take the gold and Topaz cuff bracelet from the top of the bureau, and the topaz stud earrings lying next to it. My Steven bought both for me as a first day of shooting gift. Thankfully I love his taste.
When I open the bedroom door I hear Paul’s voice making the introductions in the living room. “Steven, Jack and Nicki, this is BB’s mother and father, Dick and Vivian Blue.”
“Nice to meet you both, come in,” says Steven.
Walking into the room I see Paul and BB standing next to her parents. There’s a smile on her mother’s face, but only a blank expression on her father’s. I’m just in time to see Jack’s reaction to the introduction.
“Dick Blue? Good thing it wasn’t the other way around. But it’s good to meet you both. I hold your daughter in high regard.”
Only Jack and BB laugh at his comment. If looks could kill, Jack would be dead on the floor slayed by Dick’s cold stare.
Steven plays the good host and steps in. “What are you drinking,
Vivian?”
An hour and a half later there’s a sea of people in our house, and they’re getting their party on. Carl and Aunt Amelia are at the bar talking with Renee and Nicki. Amelia wears a colorful kimono and high red wedged sandals. Her hair is curly wild and there’s glitter in it. She and Renee make for an interesting twosome, with our Director of Photography in her basic black pants and turtleneck, no makeup and cropped hair. I’ve got to get a picture of that visual.
Steven’s playlist is turned up and has Drake singing his sexy seduction. Some guests are dancing while others are deep in conversation. An arm wraps around my waist and soft lips brush my ear.
“Can I get you anything?” Steven whispers.
Chills run up my spine and then right down again, stopping high between my legs. I turn to face him because he’s too damn beautiful for me to look away. My hand caresses his face and my fingers entwine through his hair.
“How about a kiss for the bride?” I say.
“I can do that. I’d love to do that.”
As he leans in everything fades away except for the two of us. The people vanish, the conversations and laughter quiet. He comes to me, his eyes appreciating my look of love. He’s wearing the same expression I am, only recognizable to the beloved. We kiss. No words can say what it does silently.
“Hey you two, I hate to break the mood but I have to take a piss. Which way’s the john?” Jack says, definitely breaking the mood.
His eyes are already bloodshot and at half-mast.
“Down the hall, second door to the left,” I say.
“Thank you love. Resume your activities,” he says as he stumbles off.
I look for Nicki and find she’s moved to the couch. She’s talking with BB and Paul and BB’s parents. The father sits in a rigid posture beside his wife, who unlike him seems to be enjoying herself.
“I’m going to see how Nicki’s doing. Keep an eye on Jack. He’s already wasted.”
“I’ll do what I can, but have you ever tried to rein in a wild horse? In the meantime, I’m going to get more ice. I’ll join you after that,” says Steven.
