Thirty-One
Clive
New York City.That’s how far outside of town.
I stare out the window of our hotel suite, trading one brilliant skyline for another, wondering whose life I’m living right now. It’s not mine, that’s for sure. This suit that just happened to be here for me to change into when we got here isn’t mine, either. These shiny shoes. That chilled bottle of champagne on the cart by the door. I don’t own a single damn thing in this room.
“Are you lost, honey?”
I follow Nora’s voice behind me. She stands in the bathroom doorway in midnight blue cocktail dress and a black clutch purse. Her hair is up, perfectly-styled off the neck to give that collar its time to shine.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s what Judy said to me my first night at Red Brick,” she says, smiling.
I chuckle at the window. “Yeah, I might be.”
She wanders up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. “Soak it in, Clive. It’s gonna be a good night,” she says.
Her hands fall away. I try and do just that. Let it all soak in. But a resistance keeps me from putting both feet on the ground.
Something about the look in her eyes. Like she knows how out of my element I am here. The fancy clothes, the new shoes. She’s dangling this life in front of my face like a shiny object.
Like a distraction from the hell I usually live in.
“Ready to head upstairs?” she asks.
I look at her and nod.
The hotel restaurant sits on the very top floor. We ride the elevator up and the doors open on a few dozen tables and a three-sixty view of Manhattan.
“Good evening, Ms. Payne,” the hostess greets as we step off. “Your table is ready.”
Nora smiles at her. “Thank you.”
She takes my hand and we follow through the restaurant to the opposite corner.
The hostess sits us down with a wine list and two glasses of water. “Your server will be with you soon. Enjoy the views,” she says.
I sit quietly, almost afraid to touch anything. This chair alone probably costs more than my car is worth.
“So, what do you think?” Nora asks me.
“Uhh…” I laugh. “Kind of blank up here right now.”
She takes a sip of her water. “I know what you mean.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. I wasn’t born wealthy.”
I nod. “Right.”
Nora takes a moment to look out the windows herself. “So, have you considered my job offer?” she asks, her eyes reflecting candlelight.
“I have,” I say slowly.
She waits for an answer, her head tilted in suspense.