Читать книгу The Big Dreams Beach Hotel - Michele Gorman - Страница 10

That was a simple slip of the tongue. It’s understandable, when I’m working with Rory in kind of the same way as I did with Chuck. They both parachuted into my job without warning, though that’s where the similarities end.

Because, by the time I’d known Chuck for a month, I was already a goner.

He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he wanted me to organise the whole Christmas party for his company. But that didn’t mean me taking control. Chuck was the one very much in control, and not only of the party planning.

We slipped into a routine – he stopping by on his way home from work, me staring at the revolving doors from 6p.m. onwards and Digby taking the piss every few minutes.

‘Just so you know, you’re getting really boring,’ he said, when the guests he’d just checked in started for the lift. ‘It’s been over a month, Rosie. The guy comes in every day with some question about the party, which we all know is just a bogus excuse to talk to you. And yet you’re still watching the door like a teenage girl afraid her date’s not going to show up for the big barn dance.’

‘Did you have barn dances where you come from?’ I said. ‘Like in Footloose? Did you have to meet in secret so the preacher wouldn’t try to stop them?’ It was easy to imagine Digby in a checked shirt with a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth.

‘My point is that you need to start playing hard to get or he’s going to get as bored with you as I am. I know we’re not in our parents’ generation and everyone is equal, but keeping up an air of mystery never hurts.’

‘You were the one who told me to be sure I’ve got make-up on for when he stops in,’ I shot back. ‘Which is it, Digby? Am I supposed to be nonchalant or making an effort?’ I couldn’t believe I was taking advice about romance from a bloke whose entire little black book would fit on the back of an envelope.

‘You’re supposed to look nonchalant while making an effort. Rosie, you really should read more women’s magazines.’

‘Like you do?’

‘They’re for research. Know thine enemy.’ His voice dropped. ‘Speaking of Prince Charming …’

Chuck had his gym bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was wet and I could see through his white dress shirt where he hadn’t dried himself properly. I had to stop myself imagining that process. ‘How’d it go today?’ he asked me. ‘Have you got a few minutes?’

‘You’re safe, Andi’s left,’ Digby said. ‘She’s hanging upside down in a cave somewhere. Go. I’ll cover.’

It didn’t seem possible, but Andi had been grumpier than usual ever since she had to assign me to work on the party. Not that I was shirking my usual front-desk duties.

Nobody stamped the joy out of life like our boss.

Chuck smiled his thanks at Digby before following me to the events office. Everyone always bunked off by six, so I knew we’d be alone there. Not that we had anything secret to say.

When he touched my arm an electric jolt went through me. ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ he said. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ He started veering towards the hotel bar.

‘I’m not allowed during work time,’ I told him. It would be a very, very bad idea to try it. Andi might have spies around. She didn’t run a tight ship so much as a penal colony.

‘Then I’ll buy you one when you’re not working. When do you get off?’

‘Not till eight-thirty.’

‘Then I’ll see you at eight-thirty.’

‘Don’t you want to talk about the party?’

He fixed me with his gorgeous blue-eyed stare. ‘Rosie. You don’t really think I’ve been here every day for a month to talk about having white or blue lights on the Christmas tree? I’ll see you at eight-thirty.’

I wasn’t naïve. Of course I wasn’t. At least now that he’d practically hit me over the head with his intentions.

‘We’re having drinks when I get off!’ I gushed to Digby as soon as I joined him again behind the reception desk. ‘I think it’s a real date.’ I recounted Chuck’s words for him to dissect.

‘That’s a date,’ he confirmed. ‘Finally. Now you can stop obsessing over the door every night and do some work. Just promise me you won’t fall in love or anything stupid like that. I need you in Paris with me. I’m not going alone.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m as excited about Paris as you are,’ I told him.

‘When you say excited, you mean shit scared, right?’ His freckled face creased with worry. ‘I’m only going because of you.’

‘We’ll be there together,’ I promised him again.

In a million years, I never thought I’d get that Paris rotation. I’d used up too much luck getting the New York gig. I’d expected my next job to be somewhere like Scunthorpe. Digby had been thinking of trying for San Francisco or New Orleans next, but he didn’t need much convincing when I’d suggested Paris. What might be scary alone would be an adventure together. And I’d applied for San Francisco, just to see what happened.

What happened was we’d both got offers for Paris. Mais oui, we’d be eating croissants in Paris by Bastille Day!

I checked my phone for the thousandth time: 8.41. Chuck was late. He’d changed his mind. Of course he had. Blokes like him didn’t date lasses like me. They dated supermodels and actresses. I couldn’t act for toffee and was about a foot too short to be a supermodel. My face was okay as far as regular people went, but nobody’d ever mistake me for Lily Cole, even if we are both ginger.

When the phone started ringing, Digby and I both stared at it.

‘Well, since you’re not doing anything else,’ he said.

I mouthed two little words as I answered the call. They weren’t ‘Thank you’. ‘Grand Meridian Hotel, Rosie speaking, how may I help you?’

‘Come outside.’

‘Chuck? Where are you?’

‘Duh.’ He laughed. ‘Outside.’ He hung up before I could ask any more obvious questions.

‘I’ll see you later,’ I told Digby. ‘I’ve got a date.’ I couldn’t keep the stupid grin off my face, so I probably looked like a loon when Chuck caught sight of me.

‘For you.’ When he held out a bouquet of pink roses, I wanted to hold that image in my head forever. A man standing on a New York City street with flowers. For me! I’d never seen anything so romantic in real life. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d want to be seen inside fraternising with a client,’ he added. Then he looked at the flowers, which I had awkwardly grasped with one arm so that I could carry my handbag on the other. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think that through very well, I guess. It seemed romantic at the time. Do you want me to carry them?’

‘No way,’ I said. ‘They’re beautiful. I want to bask in their reflected glory.’

‘I love the way you talk,’ he said.

I loved the way he did everything.

Chuck didn’t leave anything to chance. We went to a cosy bar in Midtown where he’d booked an intimate corner table. ‘They light a fire when it’s cold out,’ he said as the waiter brought our manhattans. It seemed an appropriate order given where we were. ‘It’s really nice in here then.’

All I could think about was who’d been there with him in winter.

I was seized by such a powerful jealousy that I could hardly breathe. And the poor woman was only imaginary. I knew I was in deep trouble then.

‘To us,’ he said, raising his glass to mine.

I could feel my face bloom red. ‘To the Christmas party. It’s going to be brilliant.’

‘I’d rather drink to us,’ he said. ‘Might there be an “us”, do you think?’ His smile was so warm, so cheeky, that I wanted to lunge over the table in answer to his question.

No, play it cool, Rosie. Remember what Digby said. Nobody wants everything laid out in front of them. Well, unless it was a cake buffet.

I didn’t want to be a cake buffet. I wanted to be the kind of woman that men fell head over heels for. So far my romantic CV was more self-service than five-star menu. ‘It’s nice to be away from the hotel,’ I said.

He nodded. ‘I know what you mean. I don’t like to mix business with pleasure either. That’s hard to avoid with my job, even though my colleagues aren’t really the kind of people I’d usually hang out with. You wouldn’t believe the alpha culture there. It means a lot of time drinking.’

‘Are you not an alpha?’

He thought about my question. ‘I think I’m more of a delta. Maybe an epsilon.’ His face was so open and friendly. I wondered if they taught that in American schools. We Brits look like a bunch of standoffish gits by comparison.

‘Now you’re probably going to tell me you only go out with the kind of guy who pilots his own plane and wrestles alligators for fun.’

‘Pah, hardly! I don’t go out with anyone, really. Not since I’ve been here anyway. The hours are too crazy. I never meet anyone outside of work.’

‘And I guess you wouldn’t want to date a work colleague,’ he said. Then, hopefully, ‘Would you?’

‘Oh, I’d have no problem with that. If I ever meet anyone who’d ask.’ Could I sound more desperate? Way to be cool, Rosie. ‘What I mean is, it’s not enough to be in proximity, is it? Otherwise everyone would just marry their next-door neighbour. There’s got to be chemistry too.’

‘Like now?’

I thought about that. ‘I suppose if you define chemistry as having a really good time with someone and looking forward to the next few hours, then yes.’ Hey, that wasn’t a half-bad response.

‘I’ll get us more drinks,’ he says.

By the time I was too squiffy to stand up without leaning on the table, Chuck knew all about my family, my career and my embarrassing love for line dancing. Only it wasn’t so embarrassing with him. ‘Now you know my life story,’ I slurred. Then I did that thing that’s meant to tell people you’re not pissed, but just makes you look pissed while trying to sit up straight. ‘What about you?’

‘I’m a cheesehead,’ he said, laughing. ‘It’s what people from Wisconsin are called. Cheeseheads.’

‘But why?’

He shrugged. ‘I guess we eat a lot of cheese. We’ve got hats made of it. Every Wisconsin resident is issued one to wear on public holidays. Next time I’m back I’ll see if I can swing one for you.’

‘You’re joking.’

His look answered me. Of course he was.

‘Do you go home a lot?’ I asked, to cover for not recognising satire when it stands up and salutes. Talk about letting my side down. How very un-British of me.

‘Not recently, but I only moved away from the Midwest a few months ago. I’ll go to my parents’ for Christmas. This was a big move for them now that I’m not within driving distance. They miss us a lot.’

‘Us?’

He sipped his drink. ‘My little sister. I thought I told you that.’ He grimaced. ‘You’re definitely going to think I’m pathetic now, but in my defence, she’s pretty cool as far as sisters go. She basically invited herself to New York as soon as she found out I was getting a corporate apartment paid for. She was in Chicago like me anyway, but she didn’t have a regular job or anything. Just bar work. I couldn’t really say no, since it’s a two-bedroom, and my parents were behind the whole idea. They’d rather have me looking out for her here than leaving her on her own in Chicago.’

‘How old is your sister?’

‘A very immature twenty-six.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘But she’s my sister and I love her. Anyway, if I’d moved when I planned, then I probably would have gone back for Labour Day. Everyone goes up to the lakes that weekend. But work – I mean my old job – held me up, so I didn’t get here till October.’

‘That’s why you were so late booking the party?’

‘Are we back to talking about work again?’

‘I’m just having a go at you.’ I saw his expression. ‘I’m teasing you. Nobody waits till almost November to book their Christmas party.’

‘Yeah, as I found out, thanks. By the time my old company said they were making me work my whole notice period, it was too late for Flable and Mead to find another events manager. It was lucky I didn’t lose the job, but it’s meant I’ve had to scramble now to find a venue. If my old boss had let me go earlier, we probably wouldn’t have met.’

‘Then I’m glad your company were arseholes.’

‘I’ll be sure to add that to my Christmas card to them.’

‘Don’t forget the kisses at the end.’

He didn’t forget the kisses at the end of our date either. We barely made it out of the bar before we were all over each other.

‘God, you are so sexy!’ he murmured amidst all the snogging. ‘I would love to take you home right now.’ He pulled away a bit so he could look into my eyes. His face was pretty blurry at such close range, but he was asking a question, right?

Much as I wanted to, even in my bothered state I knew it would be a mistake in the long run.

‘No, I can control myself,’ he said. That made one of us. ‘I’m a gentleman at heart, despite how it appears at the moment.’ He put a tiny bit of distance between us. ‘Will you get a cab home or take the subway?’

‘I’m in Brooklyn,’ I said. ‘I’ll get the subway. Where do you live?’

He took my hand as we started walking towards my station. ‘In East Bumfuck, Nowhere,’ he said. ‘It might be a free apartment, but it’s completely inconvenient. The company had all these empty buildings that were bad investments even before the financial crisis. Now they’re stuck with them, so they hand them out as perks to their employees.’

‘Where is it exactly?’ I was pretty sure there wasn’t really an East Bumfuck, Nowhere.

‘Sorry, I should have said. Scarsdale in Westchester. Do you know it?’

‘Only by its reputation as suburban hell. I’m sorry.’ We seemed to be back on safer ground with the talking. I wasn’t sure if it was the manhattans or the snogging that were making me so light-headed. I’d gone overboard on both.

‘I’ve got a one-year lease, but I can’t wait to move closer,’ Chuck went on. ‘The firm signed me up for a private member’s club that’s got pretty cheap rooms, so I can stay there sometimes if I have a late night.’

Was that where we’d have gone if I’d taken him up on his offer? Would I get another chance, or had I blown it?

‘I’ll see you again soon, okay?’ Chuck said when we got to the steps leading down to my train. ‘No, fuck it, that’s not what I mean to say. Rosie, I’ve had such a wicked time tonight. I know I’m supposed to be cool about these things, but I can’t wait to see you again. We can see each other again, right?’

‘I’d love it!’ I said, but I’d hardly got the words out before he was kissing me again. At the rate I was going, I’d be nothing but a puddle of hormones on the Seventh Avenue Line.

‘Are you getting the subway?’ I asked him when I came up for air.

‘It’s the commuter line for me. Suburbs, remember? I’ll walk over to Grand Central. It’s a nice night for a walk.’

We both looked up at the rain that was just starting to spit. ‘It feels like a nice night, doesn’t it?’ he asked.

It felt like a perfect night.

I just missed my train and when I got on the next one it was obvious someone had just weed in the corner of the carriage I chose, but I still smiled all the way home. It was a perfect night.

Chuck stood in front of me at the reception desk the next day at lunchtime. ‘I need your advice,’ he said.

I turned away so Andi couldn’t overhear us. Whatever it was, she’d say no on principle. ‘Is this your way of asking me out, or do you really need my advice?’

His grin was wicked. ‘I really do need your advice. But maybe we can go out later.’ He turned to Andi. ‘Can I please borrow Rosie? It’s about the party.’

My God, he was fearless in the face of danger. ‘It shouldn’t take longer than her lunch hour.’

As if I ever got a lunch hour. ‘But we might be a few minutes late getting back. We have to go to Tiffany’s to pick out Christmas presents for the party.’

Seeing Andi’s face, Digby grimaced and practically ran into the back room. I was tempted to join him. Chuck had no idea how hard he was making things for me.

In about a nanosecond, Andi’s expression morphed from thunderous to sweet-as-you-please. ‘Of course. Anything for our clients. Rosie can take all the time she needs to help. We’ll see you later.’

Translation: You’ll pay for this later and don’t even think about being gone longer than your legally allowed lunch hour. You’re lucky you’re even getting that.

But how could I say any of that to Chuck in front of Andi, when the only thing worse than making my boss angry was making her look bad? ‘I won’t be long,’ I murmured when I caught her shooting daggers at Chuck’s back as we left.

He waited till we rounded the corner, checked that no one from the hotel was watching, and grabbed my hand. ‘I really do have to pick out corporate gifts for the party, but I wanted you to come here with me. It sounds lame, I know, but Audrey Hepburn was my sister’s favourite actress. She force-fed me Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I want to go there with you. Though I can’t promise not to bawl. Just thinking about the end of that movie gets me every time.’

‘Cat!’ I wailed, causing people around us to glance over.

Later, as we squeezed through the revolving doors together at Tiffany’s, he hummed ‘Moon River’ into my ear. It couldn’t be any more romantic.

But we didn’t see each other again until the Christmas party. Our work schedules were nearly exactly opposite now. Andi scheduled me on the five-to-one shift, probably in retaliation for my afternoon disappearance. And Chuck got his next assignment – organising all the firm’s year-end investor meetings – so he was working straight through, from early in the morning until late at night. We did get to snatch quick calls with each other during the day when Digby could cover for me. And we had long rambling conversations late most nights while Chuck was on the train back to Scarsdale.

But I was going round the bend, dying to see him. Chuck was addictive. ‘I know it’s frustrating with work,’ he said, ‘but we’ll see each other at the party. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’

‘That’s bollocks. Absence just makes you frustrated.’

He laughed. ‘I can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re going to look gorgeous.’

I could hardly stand the romance – imagine sipping champagne and dancing with the hottest bloke in the beautiful art deco room at the top of the hotel. Except …

‘Yes, but we can’t be together at the party,’ I pointed out. As far as everyone except Digby knew, Chuck was the hotel’s major client and I was his event planner. It was strictly forbidden to bring one’s romantic life into work. If Andi even suspected there was anything between us, she could scupper my Paris assignment. And she definitely would too. That woman had icicles in her heart. No, colder than icicles. Dry ice.

‘We’ll get together,’ he promised, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Oh, really.’

‘Trust me, I’ve got a plan for us.’

I did trust him.

Was I in love with Chuck already? I think so. At least I was in the snow-blind kind of mad lusty love that can come at the start of a relationship. It may not have had the depth of love that develops over time, but it had every bit of the intensity.

‘He does clean up well,’ Digby said, when he saw Chuck coming through the hotel lobby on the night of the party.

‘You look beautiful,’ Chuck whispered so that only I heard him. Andi had let me switch my usual grey uniform for a plain black dress, but I’d wanted to wear a frock to make Chuck think I looked like a princess. Or at least one of the minor royals.

‘Where do you keep your phone in that dress?’ he teased.

I held up my silver and diamante handbag. ‘It’s surprisingly practical. There’s an entire toolbox in here. And the kitchen sink.’

‘It’s handy to have the toolbox in case the sink springs a leak.’

‘I didn’t see any problems upstairs, but you might want to go up and check before your bosses get here. I’ll be up at seven.’

The caterers were going full tilt in the kitchen. The bar staff were already in position and the sound system and lights had all gone up around me the night before while I hurled tinsel all over the Christmas trees. I know it wasn’t my party per se, but I couldn’t wait for Chuck to see it.

The room sparkled with royal blue and silver baubles and ribbons nestled in pine branch garlands wrapped in fairy lights. All the art deco mirrors magnified the effect. Little round tables with fringe-draped lamps, like they had in Prohibition-era speakeasies, dotted the edges of the parquet dance floor. Twelve-foot-tall live Christmas trees, trimmed in blue and silver, of course, stood in three of the corners of the huge room – the fourth was taken up by the DJ. She didn’t have to spin her records till later, though, because against the back wall was a sixteen-piece old-timey jazz orchestra.

I’d love to be dancing with Chuck to their music. In my mind I was Ginger Rogers. In reality I was probably more Gangnam Style.

But I needed to push those thoughts aside to focus on my job, because I was a professional. From a purely careerist point of view, the party would be something else to put on my CV… as long as it went well. If it didn’t, then the last month of work would have been for nothing.

Well, not exactly for nothing, I thought, as I watched Chuck’s face when he came into the room.

He laughed and shook his head as he took it all in. I’d emailed him about the decorations, but they were so much more lush and blingy in real life. Walking into the room felt like being wrapped in a big sparkly Christmas hug.

Chuck beamed and nodded in my direction, but he couldn’t come over. His bosses were on either side of him. Then the whole company seemed to enter the room at once –sharply tuxedoed powerful-looking men and young elegant women. Suddenly he wasn’t my Chuck anymore. He was swallowed up by his Wall Street colleagues.

These were the women Chuck worked with every day! He’d mentioned that the firm hired from the top schools where everyone was super-clever. I imagined a bunch of speccy number-crunchers in corduroys and cardigans. These girls looked like they’d just strutted off the Victoria’s Secret catwalk.

I hated every bit of them, from the tops of their artfully messy hairdos to the tips of their flawlessly painted toes and all the cleavage in the middle. With so many micro dresses and plunging necklines in the room, my little black dress seemed too prim. And as much as I told myself I was there to do my job, the only thing I wanted was for Chuck to notice me.

But I couldn’t even see him, let alone be extra-gorgeous so that he’d come over. He was swept off into the melee while I had to run around – well, hobble around, given the four-inch heels that I was definitely not used to – making sure there were enough vol-au-vents and ice cubes for our guests.

By the time I caught sight of him again, the orchestra was in full flow. The champagne was too. One of Chuck’s bosses was popping open bottles with a sword. Don’t ask me why he was carrying a sword. Judging by the fact that no one seemed alarmed, it must have been his usual party trick.

Chuck was busy being chummy with a trio of Amazonian underwear models, allegedly his colleagues. I couldn’t exactly barge in on them. For one thing, from all the way down here they’d wonder where the noise was coming from. Besides, what would I say? Sorry to interrupt, but I’d like you to stop being so flirty and beautiful around my … around my what? What was Chuck? Not my boyfriend. Or my lover. He was just my crush.

I had to stop being stupid and leave the man to enjoy his Christmas party in peace.

Summoning every ounce of British resolve, for the rest of the night I was as tough as the façade on Buckingham Palace. While everyone else got merry, I did my job. That meant being efficient, solving problems left, right and centre, and definitely not looking for Chuck.

He slipped up behind me near the end of the night, just as the first notes of ‘Moon River’ floated over us. ‘It was my request. Come with me,’ he said, turning towards the door.

My façade crumbled. Of course I followed him, into the storeroom across the hall. Even with the door closed we could faintly hear the music.

‘May I have this dance?’ He held out his hands.

‘What, in here?’

‘You’ll have to step over the slide projector when I dip you. Come on. I told you we’d be together.’

It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but then, what else did I expect when we couldn’t let anyone see us?

I stepped into his arms and it felt wonderful. Who cared if we weren’t in the ballroom? In front of so many people, we couldn’t have snogged. Or rubbed up against each other like outtakes from Dirty Dancing. And his hand definitely couldn’t have got under my skirt. ‘Are you clocked off for the night now?’ he murmured between kisses.

‘Uh-huh. What have you got in mind?’ I was glad he was holding me up. Up against the wall, actually. I was probably too dizzy to stand anyway.

His next words made me swoon. Swoon, I tell you. ‘God, I want you, Rosie. Not here, it’s too tacky and you don’t deserve anything tacky. I just don’t know if I’d last till we got to my place.’

The way I was feeling, I wasn’t sure that I would either. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ I said. ‘Stay here. I’ll ring your mobile in a few minutes, okay?’

A wicked smile bloomed across his face. ‘What are you doing?’

‘You’ll see.’

Straightening my dress, I hurried to the lift to get back down to the lobby.

‘How’s it going?’ Digby asked when he saw me. ‘Good, I’m guessing. Everyone who’s come down so far is wasted out of their minds. Hey, what are you doing?’

‘Nothing.’ I pulled up the room reservations on one of the computers.

‘No, seriously, what are you doing?’ He glanced over his shoulder, though we both knew Andi had been gone for hours.

I blocked one of the singles. Mustn’t be greedy.

‘Rosie.’ Digby made me look at him. ‘This is dangerous.’

‘I won’t get caught, if nobody tells.’

‘I don’t just mean the room.’

But I couldn’t think about that now. I wasn’t thinking about anything except Chuck. I popped a key card into the machine.

My hand was shaking as I rang Chuck’s mobile. ‘Meet me at the lift on the sixth floor.’

It was the start of everything.