The Suite Life (9 page)

“Thanks, Roger. I'll catch him at home then.”

I dialed Alec's home number and he picked it up on the fourth ring. “Hello,” he huffed.

“Hi, Alec, it's me.”

“Got my hands full,” he said, his voice slightly muffled as he cradled the phone on his shoulder, the faucet running in the background. “Wish it were with you.”

“I won't keep you. I just wanted to let you know that I can pick up dessert.”

“Already made plans for that,” Alec said, chuckling.
Uh-oh.
“See you at six.”

I caught a cab outside Our Lady of Victory after I'd lit a candle and said a quick prayer. I said another one as the cab
pulled up to the curb in front of the imposing Tribeca high-rise where Alec lived.

The young, European-looking concierge picked up his phone as soon as I breezed into the marble lobby.

“Ms. Bonti is here, Mr. DeMarco,” he said with a French accent. It no longer surprised me when someone I'd never met knew me. “Yes, sir,” he said and hung up the phone. “Take the elevator to the right, Ms. Bonti. Penthouse D.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I crossed the expansive lobby to the elevator bank, feeling his eyes on me every step of the way.

Alec's door was open, but I pressed the bell anyway.

“Come right in, Sam,” he called from somewhere inside.

I was greeted by “A Girl Like Me,” a Smithereens hit, on the sound system, as well as the Manhattan skyline, which filled the wall of glass on the other side of the sunken living room, and by a warm smile as Alec emerged from the kitchen and swept me up off my feet.

“Couldn't wait for you to get here,” he said before locking his lips on mine.

“It will be all downhill after that.” I smiled as we unclenched.

“You may change your mind once you know what I have in store for you,” he said.
Dessert?
“Curl up on the couch,” he said, waving toward a cream-colored leather sofa. “I'll be right back.” And, true to his word, he returned minutes later with a platter of hors d'oeuvres and two champagne flutes.

“I like what you've done here,” I said, surveying what seemed to be the ultimate, over-the-top bachelor's pad. The dominant accessories were a pair of whimsical but explicitly rendered naked female figurines that looked as if you could take them apart like a puzzle.

“Thanks. But it was all the decorator. I honestly had nothing to do with it,” he said as he set the tray and glasses on the beveled glass cocktail table and sank onto the couch next to me.
“Not my taste, really, except for the wooden wine rack and the sexy figurines.”

“They go nicely with the wide plank floors.”

“I prefer marble. The place I'm checking out now will be all my doing.”

I took in the skyline again. “Why would you leave
this
place? Is the rent too high?” I wanted to take back my naïve question, as soon as it left my lips.

“It's only thirty-seven hundred,” Alec said as he reached for the champagne bottle nestled in a bucket on the table.
Only? That's more than a month's salary for me.
“This building was voted the number-one rental in the city, but it's pedestrian to me, Sam. One bedroom, too far from the river, small gym, and no swimming pool,” he said, filling the flutes. “Too many mirrors, too,” he added.

A girl can't have too many of those.

“You work out regularly, do you?” I cracked.

“Plan to,” he said. “Gotta get in shape for the sprint that's coming.”

“The merger?”

“That's just the start, Sam.” He handed me a flute, raised his, and made yet another toast to our future.

I was warmed by the wine and his words, and by the lyrics playing in the background:

London, Washington, anywhere you are I'll run

Together we'll be

I took a healthy swig and eyed the bruschetta and stuffed mushrooms on the table. “Dig in,” he said, enveloping a slice of toasted Italian bread topped with diced tomatoes in his oversized paw.

“I will,” I said, reaching for a piece.

Alec and I finished the appetizers, the lion's share consumed by my Wall Street lion, and moved to adjoining seats at a round glass table in the small dining area two steps up. The umber upholstered armchairs were as plush as the soft leather couch. Alec reached for an open bottle of red wine and filled two large goblets halfway.

“Hmmm,” he said after the next toast. “Can't beat Chianti, if it's the right one.”

“I wouldn't know,” I said with a smile.

“But you will, and sooner than you think. I want you to know everything, Sam.”

I tipped my goblet toward him. “Bring it on.”

“I will,” he said, sliding back from the table. “Starting with the next course.”

The homemade manicotti, accompanied by fennel sausage, were as good as any I'd ever had, and the sauce was as out of this world as the apartment. “Superb, Alec,” I said after I finished my last bite. “Really, you are some cook; you should own a restaurant one day.”

If he's fattening me for the kill, this isn't a bad way to go.

“Family recipe,” he said, beaming with pride. “I'll always keep my traditions, Sam, but I'm ready to change a lot of other things,” he added, refilling his glass. He was moving the bottle toward mine, but I covered it with a hand and shook my head gently.

I looked around the apartment again, ran a finger around the edge of my goblet, and looked him in the eyes. “You hardly have to do that on my account, Alec.”

“Well, let me be clear, anyway, so there's no doubt about where things stand—at least on my end.” Alec emptied his goblet. “I've had four women hanging on to me for the past month, and I've been shedding one a week since we started dating. Being with meaningless women is not what I'm into anymore.”

I looked down as I processed his words. It stung knowing that he was keeping up appearances with all of these other women even though he was pursuing me so persistently. I knew it was silly to expect otherwise; we weren't even sleeping together. And Alec had remained a perfect gentleman with me the whole time. He just had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the room.
What if he's just a really good actor?
I fretted. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. The fact that he did the honorable thing and waited to clear himself of all entanglements before putting the moves on me made me feel a surge of love for this man. I reached for his hand and looked him in the eyes again. “You're not the only one here who's growing up.”

Alec squeezed my hand and kept his eyes on mine. “Team is everything to me, Sam.”

He raised my hand a few inches, and I marveled at how light his touch could be. “A man and a woman make the team that matters most to me.” He lowered his face to my hand, and the gentle touch of his lips on my outstretched fingers was heavy enough to rock my entire world.

Alec didn't put the major moves on me that night. He didn't so much as hint at sex or even show me his bedroom, but he did leave me with another soulful, prolonged, and probing kiss at the elevator outside his apartment. That one lasted for days after the limo took me home, as did my ponderings about when—or if—I'd ever be sleeping with him.

Since he left on an extended business trip to Miami the day after our dinner, I had more time than I wanted in which to consider where we stood. I was both flattered and miffed that he hadn't swept me up into his arms, carried me to his bed, and taken me as he no doubt had dozens of other women. I was really trying to understand what made this guy tick. You could count on one hand, with a couple of fingers left over, the number of men I had gone all the way with, and maybe I gave off signals indicating that I was untouchable. I wanted to believe that Alec was simply being chivalrous and wanted to keep me on a pedestal but maybe I was just kidding myself.

Meanwhile, I took advantage of his absence to throw myself into my work and make up for lost time. I missed hearing his voice during the day when he was busy in meetings, but my boss was no doubt pleased to have a full-time assistant for a change.

I also took the opportunity to attend a noontime Mass at Our Lady of Victory, and even managed a trip to Our Lady of Guadalupe in Bensonhurst, where I ran into Father Rinaldi, my old priest, whom I hadn't seen in years. He greeted me warmly and seemed genuinely pleased to see me, even remembering to ask how my writing was going. When I confessed that I hadn't really made much progress in that area, he reminded me that God has a plan, on His own schedule, for every one of His children. And when I told him about Alec, he remarked that true love is pure.
Does he somehow know that we haven't consummated the relationship yet?
As we said our good-byes, he told me that he had always kept me in his prayers and would continue to do so. I was in a hurry to get home in case Alec called, but I stopped long enough to put some money in the collection box. Even though my attendance hadn't always been as regular as it should have been, the church had always been my rock when everything else in my life seemed so unstable. Throughout my childhood, throughout all the abuse I received from both Tony and my mother, it was my place of refuge mentally and emotionally, and my faith remained constant, whether or not I attended a Mass.

I hurried home, not wanting to miss a call from Alec from Miami, but he didn't call that evening. I worried that something was wrong, and prayed myself to sleep, Mom's rosary beads clutched in hand, in hope that he'd phone the next day.

And he did—as upbeat and excited as ever about his work and our future. He told me he was cutting his trip short by a day, not only because he had wrapped things up sooner than expected, but also because he missed me terribly. I momentarily considered that he was not being entirely truthful about the latter, but when he quickly added that he had turned down a deep-sea fishing expedition with his buddies to get back home and pleaded with me to be in the limo when he was picked up late the next day, I knew he was sincere. And I realized how much
I'd missed him, too, how much I'd come to rely on his massive presence to fill up my life.

I practically jumped out of the limo at LaGuardia Airport as soon as he emerged from the arrivals terminal, and threw my arms around his neck before he even had time to drop his bags. “Maybe I should go away more often,” he said kiddingly. I took his hand and started to lead him into the backseat, but he pulled me back, twirling me around as he had done on the day we met, and planted a kiss on my lips. “I wanted to do that the first time I laid on eyes on you, Sam.”

“If you had, maybe I would have called you sooner.”

“Or maybe you would have run away screaming,” he said with a chuckle.

We slid into the rear seat to the sounds of his favorite Alanis Morissette album, and Alec draped an arm across my shoulders as I presented him with his favorite martini, which had been chilling for ten minutes. “Hope this meets with your approval,” I said, beaming at him.

“It does, and I don't even have to try it.” Alec smiled, then took his usual gulp while drinking me in with his eyes. “Perfect,” he moaned, and I wasn't sure whether he meant me or the cocktail. Both, I hoped.

“I'm glad you like it so much.”

“I was referring to you,” Alec said, pressing the privacy partition button. He took another swallow and pulled me close. “You won't mind if I just drop you off?” he asked after another soulful kiss. “I'm pretty burned out.”

I stretched my arm across his broad chest and pressed my cheek into his shoulder. “Not at all,” I whispered. “I'm just glad to have my conquering hero back.”

“I've got more worlds to conquer, Sam,” he said, lowering his head until his lips found mine.

Luckily my boss left early on Friday to start the long Labor Day weekend, so he wasn't there to see that I too was deserting my post at two o'clock. I fussed with my hair in the ladies' room just as I had fussed with packing that morning, and with my thoughts all day. I knew that my wardrobe would be sorely tested over the holiday, and I worried about what Alec's family would think of me. But those weren't my only concerns. Our heavy petting was driving me crazy, too, and I knew it wouldn't be long before we finally slept together—provided, that is, no alarms about Alec or his assembled family went off in my brain.