It’s a room of suits—mostly men—and almost every set of eyes is on me. This is what it must be like to be a tiny droplet of water falling on a drought. I definitely prefer being amongst the pouring rain.
“I think it’s time for us to get this thing rolling,” Wade announces from the head of the table. The mere sound of his voice sends my nerves back into a complete tailspin.
He starts by going around the table to introduce everyone. I listen off and on, remembering some names, not hearing others.
When he’s done, his eyes meet mine. He smiles sadistically, almost as if he’s predicting my failure. I wonder if that would make him happy? I twist the cap off the bottle in front of me and swallow down as much as I can before he starts up again.
“Lila Fields is working with Stanley Enterprises. I’ve contracted with them to complete the design on this project. I haven’t seen what she’s got in store for us yet, so I’m going to let her take the floor.”
Pierce squeezes my knee and whispers, “You’ve got this” before I stand with the mood board, making my way to the easel. Multiple sets of eyes burn holes in my back as I set it up, standing with my back to them a little longer than necessary. It’s good; if it weren’t mine, I’d say it was brilliant.
After inhaling one last cleansing breath, I plaster a smile on my face and turn to the crowd.
“The goal is to develop a hotel unlike any other in New York,” I start, purposefully glancing over everyone’s heads at first. “We don’t want travelers to simply choose it because it’s the newest or the best … we want them to come to New York just to experience The Hotel on 5th.
The longer I speak, the further down my eyes go. I see some smiles and even a nod, but not everyone is there yet. “Modern, clean lines are in right now, but what if we took that and added some dimension. What if we created something that can easily be converted to modern in any era? I present to you The Hotel on 5th.”
I first show the rendering of the front and then move to the lobby. I explain the layout, the colors, the concept, and when I’m done, I see acceptance. Pierce smiles wide, brushing his finger over his lips as he listens.
“Because we want the hotel to be more of an experience than a place to rest your head, it will only have seventy-two rooms, six per floor.” Before I can show the group my drawing of how I envision a guest room, the door clicks open. I ignore it until I see the smile drop from Pierce’s face.
“You’re late,” Wade says, gesturing to the last empty seat.
My stomach clenches when I get a glimpse of him. He’s impossible to ignore in this group, wearing his signature faded blue jeans and t-shirt. He’s impossible for me to ignore. Period.
I look back to Pierce who’s trying to kill Wade with the fire in his eyes. I continue, wanting to do whatever I have to in order to get out of here. “Each floor will have a slightly different feel, so you can stay multiple times and feel like you’ve experienced different parts of New York.”
My eyes float again. Words spill from my lips with little effort thanks to many hours of prep, and when I’m done, I breathe a sigh of relief. I want to be back in Chicago. I want sanity.
“Does anyone have any questions?” I ask, holding my breath in hope that I’ll be out of this room within a couple of minutes.
Wade starts. “I like the idea of having all rooms essentially be suites, but can we cut the top floor from six suites to two penthouses? For celebrities and such.”
I look at Pierce, and he nods. His cheeks burn red, and I swear he’s going to hurl himself across the table at any minute.
“Yes,” I answer. “We can make that happen.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Before we meet next time, I’d like you to draw up what they may look like.”
I nod, rocking back and forth on my heels. Just when I think it’s been silent long enough to sit back down, Blake opens his mouth. “And what if the art I have in mind doesn’t fit this concept?” he asks.
“Then I suggest you start on some new pieces,” I snap back, smiling to hide my contempt.
“Hmm,” Blake chides, pulling a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. “My contract states I get a creative opinion. That I’m to work with the designer for the best possible result.”
I open my mouth to reply, but Pierce beats me to it. “Wade, we need to talk in your office. Now!”
Wade shrugs, the cocky grin never leaving his face. “Excuse us for a few minutes,” he says, slowly rising from his chair.
Pierce walks toward me, the whole time I’m hoping he’ll take me by the hand and lead me as far away from here as possible.
He rests his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll make this quick. Stay put,” he whispers.
I disagree, but I’m not going to argue in front of these people. He knows that. This whole thing was bad fucking idea.
The door shuts behind them. The room is dead silent. I almost wish someone would throw another question at me, but it’s not often I get what I wish for.
“I’m going to take a quick break,” I announce as I head for the door. As soon as I hear it shut, I feel as if I can breathe again. I take a couple turns, looking for anywhere to hide for a few minutes.
“Lila, wait,” Blake says from behind me. I quicken my pace until I see the Ladies’ Room door. I open it, but before I can lock it, his strength forces me back. I’m now locked in a small room with the one person I was running away from.
“You need to leave.”
“And, how do you plan on making me do that?” he asks, leaning back against the door.
“I don’t have to make you. You’re good at leaving all on your own,” I say, my choice of words a reminder of everything I’ve been trying to forget.
He steps toward me.
I step back.
We repeat in rhythm until my back hits the wall. “I need you to stay away from me.” My voice shakes as my heart beats against its shield.
His right forearm rests against the wall, caging me in. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices.”
“You wouldn’t be with him right now if I’d stayed. Admit that much.”
His body isn’t touching mine, but I can feel its warmth. It’s driving me insane. “But you didn’t stay, and what we had … it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s part of the past—a broken past—and you can’t fix it.”
He stares down at me with the familiar eyes—the ones I fell so hard for. I remember some of the good times, and I begin to melt … the tears start to form. You don’t forget love. You can fall out of it, but you never forget it.
“I don’t want to fix it,” he finally says, leaning in a little closer. I smell the mint on his breath and have to turn my head to gain back some of my control. “I want to build something new. If I can’t have you the way I want to, I’d rather be your friend than nothing at all.”
“I can’t trust you.”
“I can’t live without you.”
“I’m not yours.”
He sighs, using his index finger to turn my face back toward him. “I said friends, Lila. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“I’m not changing my concept.”
He smiles for the first time since I’ve seen him this week. “See, that’s the good part about being friends. Friends compromise.”
“But,” I say, forming my own smile. “You’re the one who needs to gain my trust. I think you need to bend a little more. Show me how serious you are.”
He laughs. “There’s my Lemon Drop. God, I’ve missed you.”
My smile falters as I slip out of the cage he’s had me in. “You can’t do that,” I say, my hand firmly on the doorknob. “You can’t bring up the past. It—”
“Stings. I know, Lila. I fucked up, and there’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t remember the look on your face when I walked out of the apartment that night. There’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t wish I’d done everything differently. They always say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, but I knew what I had, and I didn’t think I deserved it. I’m sorry, Lila. You may not want to believe me, but I’ll live with my regret for the rest of my life.”