Page 59 of The High Price Of Loneliness

Gray shook his head and replied, “No, more like a mile or so.”

Angelica paused and said, “Could we just walk? It is such a lovely night out, and I’ve been in the hotel all day.”

They stepped out of the hotel lobby doors to the waiting black Suburban SUV and the same driver, Patrick, who had brought them from the jetport the evening prior. “Good evening, Mr. Gray,” Patrick said.

“Good evening. We are headed to the Willard Hotel for the Café du Parc restaurant. But we would like to walk the last two or three blocks if you don’t mind?” Gray replied as he opened the door for Angelica. He circled the vehicle to join her, and they were off. Angelica was beaming as she took in the historic buildings on either side as they went.

D.C. is beautiful at night, and as they pulled onto 22ndAvenue, their driver stated, “I will pull over shortly to allow you to walk the last few blocks as you requested. As you walk straight ahead, the Willard, which opened its doors in 1818, will be straight ahead on your right. As you walk, if you look off in the distance, you may see the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, and as you turn to the right at the Willard, you will find the grand entrance of the Willard and Café du Parc just a few steps beyond.” Patrick pointed ahead and to the right as he continued. “Just three blocks in that direction, sir.”

Gray nodded his appreciation for the directions and said, “The lady was hoping we could walk. Would you be so kind as to follow us?”

Patrick responded, “Of course, Mr. Gray.”

Gray helped Angelica from the SUV onto the sidewalk, and they began their short stroll to dinner on foot. Angelica beamed, walking in the cool night air. “Thank you for this. But if it is so close, why does Patrick need to follow us in the SUV?” she asked.

In a low voice, Gray said, “He is an armed bodyguard. Plus, we have him reserved for the entire evening for the return ride back to our hotel.”

Angelica’s eyes widened as she prodded him a bit further. “Armed bodyguard?” she said quizzically.

Gray nodded. “It is a big city.”

The two made it safely, with the SUV following at a modest three miles per hour, keeping a watchful eye over them.

They turned right onto the sidewalk in front of the Willard to see the red-carpet entrance for a procession of cars carrying dignitaries and fancy guests to and from one of Washington D.C.’s most iconic hotels. The regally uniformed doorman of the Willard tipped his hat to Edward and Angelica as they walked past. They arrived at the courtyard patio and concrete steps leading up to the fancy European-style entrance to Café du Parc. The elegant glass door hosted its name etched into the frosted glass entrance set in the dark mahogany wood frame.

Edward opened the door for Angelica. They were greeted inside at a host stand with a gentleman in a black tuxedo and two female hostesses on either side in simple but elegant black cocktail dresses. “Good evening, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, welcome to the Café du Parc,” he graciously said with a slight bow. “The last name, please?”

Edward replied simply, “Gray.”

With an uplifted voice, the maître d’ said, “Ah! Monsieur Gray, a great pleasure to meet you and Mrs. Gray.” As he bowed again, Angelica squeezed Edward’s arm gently at the “Mrs. Gray” presumption by the host, who continued with his greeting. “Your other two guests just arrived moments ago and are at the bar awaiting your arrival. Shall we gather them up on our way to your table, monsieur?”

Gray said, “That would be perfect, thank you.” And away they went.

Edward held her arm more firmly in his, so she would have a solid, stable anchor in her high heels as they navigated down the two short sets of very wide, dark wooden steps that descended to the main bar and dining room.

At the bar, Edward greeted the father and son team, James and Robert, whose business he had recently acquired. “Please allow me to introduce you to Ms. Angelica Hart.”

Both men stood and smiled graciously to say hello and shake Angelica’s hand. Next, Edward gestured to the waiting maître d’ and said, “Shall we head to dinner?”

Instinctively, before they had to ask, the maître d’ said, “Your drinks will be brought over to your table,” as he circled his hand once in the air for the bartender’s attention, “and added to your check. Follow me, please.”

The maître d’ whisked them away to one of the best tables in the restaurant, set for the four of them dead center in the one large alcove window that looked outside. From the balcony level, their table overlooked the Café du Parc Garden terrace full of umbrella tables and thousands of white twinkling lights in the trees. “Messieurs and mademoiselle, please enjoy your dinner with us this evening. It is our honor to have you here with us.”

Angelica cooed as they were seated. “What a beautiful view!” she said, looking out the floor-to-ceiling bay window framed with elegant royal blue curtains and their gold tied-back ropes the thickness of her wrists.

Jim, the elder and retiring father of the two Williamsons, said, “Edward, first, I want to thank you for inviting us here. The Willard Hotel is famous, but I have never been here before in all my visits to Washington. It is quite the place!”

As promised, the bartender arrived to promptly deliver their two drinks from the bar and offered to bring any other cocktails. Angelica asked for a Grey Goose Cosmopolitan and Edward his usual Tanqueray Gin and Tonic with lime.

“Jim and Rob, it is my absolute pleasure to host dinner this evening, and my apologies for being just a bit late. This is Angelica’s first trip to D.C., and she wanted to walk a few blocks and feel the city’s energy,” he said adoringly.

Jim Williamson had a friendly grandfatherly-type smile and turned to Angelica, speaking in his easy-going style. “I like to walk too. But, unfortunately, no one seems to take the time anymore for simple pleasures.” He patted Angelica a time or two on the back of the hand as he nodded knowingly and said, “Everyone seems to be in such a hurry to get where they are going, they miss the journey sometimes.”

Angelica beamed at Mr. Williamson, who had chosen to partner with Edward to begin his path to retirement, and enjoyed the kind wisdom in his words. She said, “Thank you, Mr. Williamson, for understanding and a bit of grace for my making us late.” She smiled adoringly at him.

He immediately replied, “Mr. Williamson was my father, God rest his soul. You should call me Jim.” He smiled and nodded to her like a newly adopted granddad.

Edward watched with pride how Angelica made friends so easily and a positive impression on his new partners, especially Jim, who was the founder, CEO, and lifelong steward of the company he was being entrusted with. Angelica was a good partner and asset socially, in any setting, he observed. Not that that was his primary reason for inviting her to join him, but a nice bonus, nonetheless.

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