****
When I reached the City, I was surprised that there wasn’t much traffic, even for a holiday weekend. I suspected everyone who had left for the long weekend to start to come in tonight and tomorrow. I’d made the right choice to come back a day early. Giving myself the time to get back to normal was what I needed to kick off what was projected to be a busy month.
By the time I reached the front of my building, I’d already had the report from Sandra and several other email request responses. I loved living in this time. I wondered how anyone got any work done before cell phones. And it made long, boring car rides much more productive.
I left the car idling by the curb and started to organize my things. I shoved my phone and wallet into the case and closed it.
My door opened. A rush of cold November air enveloped me and I shuddered.
“Good evening, Sir,” the valet said. He tipped his hat to me and stood dutifully by my door.
I popped the trunk and got out of the car. I gave him a generous tip and rounded the car to grab my bag and coat. I traveled light. Something that I didn’t realize until Cynthia died. She was the one packing a majority of the bags during any of our vacations. I only needed essentials. I closed the trunk and drummed my hands over the surface of the car. I didn’t know when I’d see her again. I rarely took road trips and while I was home, I had a driver bring me around the City.
“Take good care of her.”
“I will, Sir.” The valet nodded again and got into the car.
I stepped onto the sidewalk and watched my car drive away to the heated parking garage. There she’d be washed and vacuumed so next time I saw her she’d look like a model from the showroom.
I chuckled to myself. I didn’t remember when I started referring to cars as female. She was precious to me. She was one of the most expensive items I’d ever purchased. I wasn’t ashamed to think of her as an accomplishment. I worked my ass off for my money and status, so I didn’t need to apologize to anyone.
When my car had disappeared around the corner, I turned to my building. I nodded to the doorman and was pleasantly surprised to see Sam waiting for me in the lobby.
“Do I have a tracker on me?” I joked.
He lightly tapped on his temple. “I have a sixth sense about you. And I can tell time.”
I reached out my hand and he took it, shaking firmly. “Well, it’s good to be back.” I looked around the lobby, nothing had changed on the outside, but something about it felt different. I suspected the feeling would be gone by the morning.
“How was the remainder of your drive?” Sam asked.
“Productive,” I said as we headed for the bank of elevators.
“Your dinner will arrive in approximately thirty minutes. I thought you’d want to settle in before eating.” He gave me a quick glance to the side. He wanted to ask about the women I’d slept with. He was forever concerned that in my need to sate myself I’d get someone pregnant and we’d end up with more on our hands than we bargained for.
“Thanks, and stop looking at me like that.” I smirked. I needed a quick shower and then I’d have dinner in my office. I had far too much to get done, and my to-do list was pulling at my attention something horrid.
“I’m not looking at you in any way, Sir.” He nodded, but kept his eyes forward. “I just want to remind you that I’m here should you need me.”
“I’m aware. Stop worrying. I’m not twenty anymore. I understand risks better than most.” I stifled a smile. He wasn’t ever going to let up, which I was grateful for. He was my conscience when life got hard, and it did – often.
“Very well, Sir,” he said and pressed the up button for the private elevator.
When the door opened, I stepped inside with Sam on my heels. He stuck his access key into the slot for the penthouse and turned. The small light next to the keyhole lit up green.
The tension in my shoulders increased, but in a good way. I mentally worked through my to-do list and shifted my priorities again. It was a habit of mine to keep myself on track. I shifted a few more items down the list, like the Christmas charity. I wanted my new assistant to spearhead that this year under my close supervision. It would be a test for whoever I decided to hire. And it might help to keep thoughts of Cynthia at bay.
The elevator doors closed and Cynthia’s smiling face was in the forefront of my mind.
I’m going to make you proud, baby. I just wish like hell you were still here to be a part of it with me.