Chapter 39

 

Lexie

 

Entering the lobby of the hotel, the first thing I notice is the chandelier. It resembles a huge round snowflake; one made entirely of glass and light. It’s impressive and playful which works with the marble interior. Everything is marble, the walls, ceiling, and floor are all white and gray marble. The floor has curvy black lines running throughout that matches the black doors and window frames. 

There is, however, one set of doors that extend from the floor to the ceiling that looks like stainless steel. The chandelier is reflected in that section of the wall which is flanked by two humongous sculptures of some crazy looking heads.  I know that’s a lot of information to take in so trust me when I say it’s glamorous. That’s the best word to describe this space.

I step up to the small desk near the door. A nameplate that simply says ‘concierge’ is attached to the front. I wait my turn as he’s speaking to an older debonair gentleman probably in his eighties. When the elder gentleman sees me, he tips his head and smiles as he turns away.

When it’s my turn, I hesitate. Oh, hell, I can’t remember the name of the restaurant. I pull my phone out of my bag and read Cammy’s text. “Can you tell me where I’ll find the Margeaux Brasserie?”

“Upstairs one level, on your left.”

“Thank you.” To give me a little more time to gather the courage needed for this morning’s interview, I opt for the stairs rather than the elevator.  I slowly climb a set of stairs covered in carpet that matches the black and white marble flooring.  Imagining how much that must have cost takes my mind off my wobbly knees.  At the top, I look left and see a sign for the restaurant.  I take in a gulp of air for courage and step in front of the hostess.

“May I help you?” She asks it in such a way that I really don’t think she means it. 

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Name?”

“Gabriel Parker.”

She looks at me from head to toe ending on my face. With a scowl, she steps out from behind her podium and mutters, “Right this way.”

I follow her through the restaurant, weaving in and out of round tables and past booths until we’re at the furthest table from the front.  I step up to Gabriel who is chatting animatedly to a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, in a blue dress shirt, blue tie, and blue sweater vest.  He appears to take his fashion cues from Gabriel.

Smiling broadly, Gabriel stands. “Darling! You made it.”

“I did.” I smile up at him, letting him kiss my cheek.  I turn to the other man, who I assume is the reporter.  I reach my hand out to him, “Lexie Cartwright.”

He stands, wiping his mouth with his napkin before speaking. Reaching out his hand, we shake. “Doug Johnson, Chicago Magazine, online edition. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you breakfast.”

“Oh, great. I’m starving.” I never ate last night. I tossed the bag with the Italian food Gabriel brought over into the garbage can. Yeah, I was that upset with him. I settle into my seat and sip from a goblet of ice water sitting at my place setting.

Smiling at Doug, I wait. For what, I’m not sure.  “So, Lexie. You work for Gabriel?”

“Yes, she does. She’s worked for me for about eight months. As a matter of fact, she insisted that we keep our personal relationship out of the office before she’d agree to go out with me. Didn’t you darling?”

“Uh…” I don’t get to finish when Doug asks another question.

“Lexie,” Doug says looking first at Gabriel, then at me. “Do you plan on staying with Gabriel’s firm? You have a degree in Marketing, correct? What are your goals for the next few years?

“She does?” Gabriel quickly recovers, “Well, to be with me, of course,” Gabriel doesn’t give me a shot at that answer at all.

“Do you plan to continue to work?”

“Oh, um…”

“Why, of course, she does. Lexie wants her own fun money.” Gabriel says leaning in conspiratorially toward Doug adding, “She loves to shop.” He sits back in his chair sliding an arm onto the back of mine. 

My face is flushed pink with embarrassment.  How condescending of him to 1) speak for me and 2) make it sound like I don’t support myself.  Before I can contradict him, our waiter returns. Placing a small plate in front of me with one boiled egg, three grapes, one strawberry, a slice of kiwi, and a cube of melon I blink up at him. “What’s this?” I ask the server.

“Your breakfast?” He quickly places a lovely little teacup next to the plate with several tea bags resting on the saucer and a tiny metal teapot, no doubt filled with hot water.

I look over at Gabriel’s plate filled with a short stack of pancakes, a side of bacon and sausage, fried potatoes topped with cheese and sour cream, and what looks like a frothy cappuccino. I blink down at my plate with the tiny amount of food that wouldn’t feed Shelly, my turtle, then over at Gabriel. “I’m allergic to eggs.” Okay, so I’m not really allergic to eggs. I just really dislike them, especially boiled eggs. Yuk!

“You are?” he asks perplexed. 

“Yep.”

He turns to Doug and shrugs. “I learn new, wonderful things about her every day.”

Ooh, good save, Gabe. Good save.

“In my defense, sweetie, I was trying to order things that would help you.”

“Help me?”

He looks at Doug then back at me. “Yes. To help you lose weight. Isn’t that what you want?”

No. “Oh, right. Of course.” I opt to play with the fruit on my plate rather than eat it.

“So, Lexie,” Doug tries again. “Are you two talking wedding bells?”

“Oh, n…”

“Oh, Doug. You rascal. It’s too soon for that. Right honey?”

I nod and smile. Why bother speaking? 

“Lexie? What do you see in this guy?” he asks with a chuckle, using his thumb to point to Gabriel.

He’s got to let me speak this time. “Well, look at him. He’s handsome, talented, and intelligent.” I reach over and place my hand on his, so very tempted to dig my fingernails into the top of his hand. “He’s got a great sense of humor, he’s a wonderful boss who cares about the people who work for him. Gabriel is very philanthropic giving to many children’s and cancer charities in Chicago, and he’s a doting boyfriend.”

“Wow, that’s high praise.”

“Indeed,” Gabriel says smiling at Doug. 

Ugh.

“So, what drew you to Lexie, Gabriel?”

“Well, she’s beautiful. Although, she’s a little chunkier than I’m used to dating, but what she lacks in physical fitness she makes up in cheerfulness. She always has my favorite candy on her desk. And… uh, she’s a hard worker.”

“Alrighty then.” Doug looks down at his little notebook, making a lengthy notation after that train wreck of a response.

As Doug begins to ask another question I use the opportunity to get the hell out before I lose it. Standing suddenly, I raise my hand to Doug. “Well, this has been wonderful, but I need to get to work. My boss is a slave driver.” I chuckle. It’s fake.

The truth is I’ve got to get away from Gabriel Parker.  In no less than twenty minutes, he’s made me feel almost as bad about myself as I did the night Randy Mathis stood me up for the senior prom. To put this into perspective, my friends, getting left standing on my front step for an hour as I waited for him to pick me up was life-alteringly devastating. My mom made that all better, but there’s no one to make this better. This morning’s interview was only marginally better than that. Marginally.

“So soon?” asks Gabriel turning to face me. His expression is giving away his irritation. His eyes have narrowed at me, and one brow is higher than the other.

“Those phones wait for no woman.” I chuckle. It’s fake.

I shake Doug’s hand. “It was very nice meeting you.” I turn to leave and mutter to Gabriel. “See you later, darling.”

I don’t lean down to kiss him, I don’t touch him.  Honestly, I’ll be fine if I never kiss or touch Gabriel Parker again. I step away from the table and nearly trip on the leg of his effing chair. Luckily, the older gentleman that was talking to the concierge earlier was there to stop my fall. “Madame? May I escort you out?”

“Y-Yes.  Th-Thank you.”

I slide my arm through his holding tightly since if feel like my legs are about to give out on me.  “Thank you,” I whisper as we walk out the door.

“He’s a fool, young lady. I think you’re the bee’s knees.”

That’s exactly what I needed to hear. With one sentence, this gentleman has given me faith in mankind. Not in Gabriel, but in other men-kinds. Holding my head high, I say in full voice. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear.  You remind me of my Sheila. She was the most beautiful woman I ever saw and I was lucky to be married to her for sixty-one years.  You’ll find someone worthy of you. I promise.”

I hug the man, “I’m Lexie. What’s your name?”

“Kenneth. Kenneth Griffin, Sr.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Grif…”

“Ken. Please call me Ken.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulls out a card. “Call me if you ever need rescuing again.”

I smile. I will. Thank you, Mr., uh, Ken.”

In the taxi, I pull my phone out of my purse. Courage, Lexie.

Me:  I’m not doing this anymore.  After the gala thing tomorrow night, I’m done.

Cammy:  Why? What’d he do?

Me:  It doesn’t matter.

Cammy: Yes, it does. Tell me. Not as his P.R. person. As your best friend.

I’m not going to type out that text message and I can’t call her. I’m so close to tears she’ll be able to hear the wobble in my voice.

Me:  In a little over a week, he’s made me feel worse about myself than I have in eleven years.  I don’t need this right now.

Cammy:  What happened this morning?

She knows we had the interview this morning because she arranged everything.

Me: Read the article.

Cammy:  Come on Lex.

Me:  Just tell him. After the gala, I’m done.

Cammy:  Fine. I’ll tell him.