Like Jazz (30 page)

I followed him to one of the few-and-far-between doors, thinking the suites on this floor must be huge, having noticed the brass placard indicating suites 5301 and 5302 to the left, 5303 and 5304 to the right. Once he used the key card to suite 5303, he pushed the door open and held it for me. As I walked into the spacious, beautifully appointed room, he flipped a switch that lit up the wall sconces. I took in the large living room, full bar and media section. I peered into the bedroom and stood amazed by the dark, rich wood with a highly intricate pattern on the king-size bed frame and nightstands. Next to the bed, a small rolling cart held a champagne bucket with a bottle of Dom Perignon. Was this how the Foundation would be greeting all its overnight guests tonight? I walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and gazed down at the city lights below. Considering there was apparently some kind of trouble I had to deal with, I was surprised by Henry’s silence. I faced him and shook my head.

“Henry, this is spectacular. What could possibly be the trouble?” My confusion grew as he backed out of the suite.

“I’m sorry, Miss Warner.” He gave me a slight bow once he reached the door. “If you will allow me a few moments, it will all be clear soon enough. I promise. Stay, please.” Then he departed and the door clicked shut behind him.

This is so bizarre.
It felt strange to be suddenly standing in an expensive hotel suite, waiting to discover some major problem. Was it the plumbing? Had one of our guests been caught smoking in a non-smoking room? Had the Foundation reserved too few rooms and it would fall to me to inform the unlucky folks and find them accommodations elsewhere? Wasn’t Henry experienced in handling such matters?

I wandered back to the bedroom to peek into the adjacent bathroom. I flipped on the lights and stared at the large Jacuzzi tub, double sinks, and eight-showerheads shower. Nice.

As I eyed the numerous massage spray settings, an image of a naked Sarah and her dark-haired companion lathering one another with soapy caresses—their lower bodies masked behind a Captain America shield painted onto the glass shower door—abruptly popped into my head and made me flinch in horror.

I swiftly turned off the lights and returned to the living room. Normally imperceptible, my uncertainties regarding my relationship with Sarah were suddenly conspicuous and manifesting themselves in bizarre ways. I needed to get a grip. I rid myself of the unsettling vision by wondering what Henry was up to.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, I called out, “Come in,” appreciating Henry’s courtesy in not simply using his master key again. Moments passed without any sound. There was another soft knock. I walked to the door and opened it, catching my breath at the sight of Sarah, all ten feet of her (or so it seemed), standing in the doorway, smiling shyly down at me. In reality, with my own heels, the height difference was only a few inches, but her bared leg somehow accentuated it.

“Hi,” she said. “Can I come in?”

“I…uh, hi. I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m supposed to let anyone in. I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” I said dumbly with my hand on the doorknob.

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Then it struck me to ask, “What are you doing here?”

She smiled, more broadly this time. “I heard you were here. I think it’s okay if I come in. The Foundation does a ton of business with this hotel, so they know me around here.” She winked.

I moved out of the way to let her in and she brushed by me, taking a few steps into the living room before turning around. I closed the door and stood facing her. Gawking at her, really. Just because my imagination was running wild didn’t mean I couldn’t admire this very real, glorious woman. I licked my lips and shook my head slightly.

“You look…” I couldn’t think of words adequate to describe her magnificence. “Wow,” I said, displaying astounding command of the language.

Her gaze unhurriedly roamed my body. “Wow, yourself. Definitely digging the new dress.” She took a step toward me.

“Wait.” I held up my hand, continuing to appreciate the loveliness before me. Compliments still didn’t come easily to me, but if ever one was called for, it was now. “Wow doesn’t do you justice. You’re the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m…I’m completely blown away by you right now.” It was the truth.

Sarah looked down at her dress and back to me a little sheepishly. “Thank you, sweetheart. I thought you might like it.”

The term of endearment thrilled me. She’d used others, like “beautiful” or “sunshine,” but none quite so intimate. It made me want to tell her I loved her, but once again I held back, trying to keep things light, mindful not to force the issue or make her feel obliged to respond.

Instead, I eyed her shoes. “And I see you’re wearing my favorite designer: Nine-one-one. Which is who you’d be dialing if I tried to wear those.”

Sarah chuckled, encircled my waist, and pulled me to her.

“Before you kiss me, I should confess I’m expecting a man named Henry to come into this room at any minute, which I’m going to find difficult to explain,” I said, putting my arms around her shoulders and enjoying her strange height.

“I know.” Sarah made me weak in the knees with the way she kissed me then. When she stopped, she regarded me with incredible tenderness. “I asked him to ask you up here. I was hoping we might have something to celebrate tonight,” she said before again claiming my mouth with hers, causing delightful fluttering in my abdomen. She pulled back and scrutinized me. “What’s wrong? You look…” She cocked her head slightly. “You look wary. Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Just happy.”

“That’s happy?” Sarah studied my face.

It was highly unnerving how well she could read me. She was right: what with the disheartening imaginings besetting me, happy was probably overstating it.

“I’m happy you’re here,”
and not with Captain America or anyone else
. I was trying to focus on the fact that Sarah was indeed here with me—
me
—and had even roped in an accomplice to arrange it. And I’d spoken in earnest. No matter my brain’s conjurings, I was happiest when I was with Sarah. Time spent in her company was easily my favorite.

Changing subjects to avoid further examination, I asked, “What are we celebrating?”

She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. “Depends. Ah, good, it’s here.” Dropping my hand, she removed the champagne from the ice water and wiped it with the towel that lay atop the cart.

“Depends?” I asked as Sarah started to open the Dom Perignon. “I would hope it’s something a little more definitive if you’re going to open
that.
”

“Oh, we’re definitely celebrating. The question is whether we’re celebrating one thing or two.” She jimmied out the cork, causing the delightful popping sound that foretold the delicious bubbly action we were about to enjoy.

“Okay. I’ll bite. What’s the thing we know we’re celebrating?” I asked as she began to pour.

She finished filling the glasses, grabbed both flutes, and handed one to me. She took my other hand and gently tugged me toward the window so we could take in the city lights. After several moments of silence, she drew a deep breath and spoke quietly toward the window.

“The Kindle Hope Foundation is officially going to be one of only three organizations that Pipeline Technologies will support next year as part of its one-percent-of-profits giving program. And unless their program charter changes, we can expect the relationship to last well into the future.” She turned to me with an expression of satisfaction and gratitude.

It took me several seconds to digest what she’d said, but as I recognized the pride on her face, it hit me. “Wait a minute. Pipeline’s profit was something like six
billion
last year. That would mean…” I did some quick math. “That would mean, Jesus, twenty million dollars to the Foundation annually!”

She nodded and smiled.

“Oh. My. God! No way!” I nearly jumped up and down.

“Way.”

I threw my free arm around her for a hug, trying not to spill our champagne. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so proud of you. My God. I can’t believe it.” I pulled back and beamed at her, holding out my glass. “Your accomplishment calls for a hell of a lot more than a toast, but for now, cheers to the most impressive woman on the planet.”

She gave me a dubious look but clinked glasses. After a couple sips of champagne she said, “I was so excited by the news, I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell you. So I called Henry while we were en route and asked him to put some champagne in one of the rooms and figure out a way to get you up here.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief.

“We?”

“Oh. Philip and I.” She could tell I wasn’t connecting the dots. “Philip as in Philip and Donna Landrey. Philip’s the CEO of Pipeline and Donna’s his wife. After we sealed the deal with a handshake over dinner, I asked if they had any interest in getting gussied up and joining me here, since I wanted them to meet some of the Foundation staff and board members and get to know us better. Donna has an early morning tomorrow, but Philip said yes, and an hour later, here we are. I had just enough time to introduce him to the Crawfords before I ducked out to come find you.”

My relief about Captain Philip was probably palpable, but I tried to feign nonchalance. “We should go back downstairs so you can introduce us. You should be entertaining him, not here with me.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m sure he’s had enough of my company tonight, and since he’s here without Donna, I have a feeling he’ll be more than happy to pretend he’s available for the evening. Even though he’s very much in love with his wife, I’m sure he’ll enjoy a little attention. You should see him.” She rolled her eyes. “You should see both of them. They’re the most ravishing couple ever. Like they both stepped off the runway at a Madrid fashion show.”

I sipped my champagne, annoyed with myself for having thought Sarah could show up with a date at an event she knew I’d be attending. As if she didn’t have class or tact. Iago was right: jealousy was indeed a green-eyed monster. Enough about Philip.

“Not that anything could come close to topping your news about Pipeline Technologies, but you did mention there might be another thing to celebrate.”

“I don’t know. I think Pipeline could pale in comparison.” Sarah kept her eyes on mine while she tossed back the remaining liquid in her glass. She refilled it and set it down, regarding me with an uncertain expression that was unusual for her. Biting her bottom lip, she surveyed the room. “Hmm.” She walked to the entryway between the bedroom and living room, scanning both areas.

“What are you looking for?” I asked after a few seconds. She wasn’t much of a drinker but she’d finished her champagne quickly. Was she gathering the courage to say something I didn’t want to hear?

She eyed me for several moments, crossed the room in a few elegant strides, and set my glass down. Pulling me to sit next to her on the edge of the bed, she held my hands.

“I don’t know how to say this, or where, but I do know what I’m looking for,” Sarah said as she studied our hands and rubbed my fingers and knuckles with her thumbs.

My delight at the Pipeline news quickly dissipated. I wasn’t her girlfriend, so she couldn’t break up with me, exactly, but was she trying to find an easy way to let me down? That didn’t seem likely, did it? We’d shared a brilliant morning together and hadn’t had any sort of argument since. Not that we ever did. And I was the first person she elected to share the Pipeline news with. Plus there was supposed to be something else to be celebrating, wasn’t there? It wouldn’t be like her to break out some seriously nice champagne moments before ending our relationship.

I ceased my internal inquiries. Whatever was on her mind, good or bad, I had to let her know she could talk to me. She already had my heart, so it wasn’t as if she could hurt me any less simply because I might not want to hear what was on her mind. I refused to let my insecurities about what we were to each other—no, what I was to her—prevent me from having the fortitude to listen openly to whatever she had to say.

I gently placed my hand under her chin, tilting it up to get her to look at me. “Sweetheart, whatever it is, you can tell me.” She still wouldn’t meet my eyes, which troubled me, but I didn’t want to press. Opting to let her tell me when she was ready, I caressed her cheek for several moments before taking her hands again.

When she finally brought her eyes to mine, they were moist and full of emotion. She gave me a small smile but her lips were trembling. “I…I wanted to thank you for being so patient with me,” she said in a quiet voice. “You haven’t pushed me into something I wasn’t ready for, you haven’t asked me to define our relationship, you haven’t once made me feel guilty for any of the time I’ve spent working, and you’ve been more supportive of me than I deserve. By not telling you how I feel, I haven’t made it easy for you to be with me, and I’m sorry.”

Was she crazy? I had to immediately quash her ridiculous notion that she made it hard to be with her. There was no place I’d rather be. “Sarah, being with you is the easiest, most natural thing in the—”

She pressed a finger to my lips. “You know I’m right.”

I had to concede that wondering how she felt about me wasn’t supremely reassuring, so perhaps her notion wasn’t completely crazy. But thanking me and apologizing was starting to sound like good-bye, making whether she was right or not moot. I redoubled my efforts to gather courage to hear her out and simply nodded.

She walked to the window, which seemed like a bad sign.

“You were right,” she said. “What you said a few months ago. I
have
been afraid to love again. But it’s more than that.” She faced me, protectively wrapping her arms around her waist. “I’ve been afraid to love
you
again. You, specifically. I fell for you in high school, but like you, back then I didn’t realize it for what it was. All I knew was you were who I wanted to spend time with, and when you left and never contacted me…I felt some part of me had died. I know you’ve explained it to me and I understand why you did what you did. What I’m trying to say is that you terrify me because I feel…” Sarah’s voice cracked. “I’ve been down this path.”