CHAPTER TWELVE

VIP Suite Dreams

I’d silenced my phone and given myself over to enjoying the performance and my VIP status – all the drinks I could want, plus a table with an unobstructed view of the comedian.

Is it horrible of me that a teensy part of me wished I could live like that forever? That I wasn’t on assignment, but had accepted Henry’s proposal and we were there for real? A couple.

I laughed at the comedian’s wry humor. She didn’t hold anything back, and she even used Henry for a punchline or two. He didn’t seem to mind, which surprised me, until I realized that he was enjoying having the spotlight on him as she asked him questions about what he did, where he lived, and what his favorite form of bondage was.

He didn’t squirm when she got laughs out of making fun of him. Maybe because he got a laugh from her when he answered the bondage question with, “Tying up a comedian’s funds in municipal bonds.”

I remembered another something I’d really liked about Henry. He had a great sense of humor when he wasn’t annoyed or frustrated. He was a great guy as long as you didn’t challenge him.

The show ended late, and Henry wasn’t a club kind of guy, so I hadn’t planned anything but a quiet nightcap and an early start to the next day.

When we stepped out into the lobby, I saw I had four texts. Two from Olivia. Two from Emily. I signaled Henry, who was chatting with someone he knew, and pointed to the phone.

Nick started to lift his camera to catch me in mid-call, but a bouncer grabbed his arm and I turned my back, hoping he’d put the camera away for a little while.

I called Emily first. “What’s up?”

“So? Did you miss the silver lining in Henry’s black cloud?”

“The evening is young,” I teased, knowing exactly what she thought of Henry.

“Are you over your two-drink limit?” She clicked her tongue at me. “Of course you are. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. The man is a worse control freak than you are.”

“Em–” My phone interrupted me to tell me I had another call. “Dragon Lady needs me. Talk to you tomorrow. Night.”

I think she tried to protest, but I was already gone.

“Hi Olivia. I had my phone off for the performance, I’m sorry,” I began without preamble. Dragon ladies don’t like to be kept waiting.

“I just wanted to see what your preliminary thoughts are on the direction of the piece.”

“The performance was great. Dinner was delicious. Thank you so much for –”

“Diana.” One word cut through my babble. “I didn’t use the magazine’s clout to pay for a VIP evening and reserve the best suite for you to hear about food and jokes. Is the spark…sparking again?”

The question, coming from her of all people, startled me. I looked at Henry, and all the history fell away and I saw him like I had the first time I met him. A beautiful curve to his bottom lip and a smile that showed it off. The man he was talking to nodded, listening as Henry spoke confidently about whatever they were discussing. Confident. Handsome. Henry.

“Diana!”

I shook my head clear of the over-limit glass of wine and Amaretto Sour I’d consumed at dinner and the show. “I can’t tell yet.”

“Well, get to it, then.” She practically purred for a moment, before she said, “I didn’t authorize your use of the magazine’s hotel room at the Ritz-Carlton just so you could play gin rummy.”

Gin rummy? “No danger of that. We’re heading to the hotel right now. I promise if there’s any sparks left, I’ll find them.”

Nick came up behind me to whisper, “And stomp them out, I hope.”

I took a page from Henry’s playbook and ignored him. The spark felt warm and good and I wasn’t anywhere near ready to stomp it out. What kind of reporter doesn’t go after the story in any way she needed in order to get the whole truth?

<<>>

Henry was impressed, of course, when I told him where we would be staying. The spark flared hotter at his expression, which made it clear I’d surprised and impressed him yet one more time.

He didn’t ask the question I’d been too afraid to ask Olivia’s assistant when she called to inform me of the reservation: one room or two? That thought did dim the spark a little. I didn’t mind flirting with the past, but did I want to risk diving in to find the history way too cold?

When I got to the reception desk, I found out the one room or two question didn’t matter. Tina, Olivia’s ever capable assistant, had reserved a two bedroom suite for us. With a sitting room. And three bathrooms.

Not to mention a bottle of champagne and a plate of fruit and cheeses waiting for us when we stepped into the room.

Henry stood in the middle of the room and let out a low whistle. “Wow. I could get used to this treatment.”

“Not a wise idea. For any of us.” Nick snapped a few candids as we checked out the room. Or should I say rooms.

Henry tried to ignore him, but Nick’s huge lens was hard to ignore.

Henry settled for looking directly at me and speaking as if Nick’s lens wasn’t trained on him as he lifted the bottle of champagne from the bucket of ice keeping it chilled. “I think we’ve had enough photographs. Perhaps we should retire to the private portion of the evening?” He popped the champagne cork directly toward Nick’s lens.

I took the glass of champagne and clinked glasses with Henry. He tried to intertwine our arms for a romantic shared toast, but I stepped away, raised my glass, and drained it much too fast. I didn’t know if it was the heady feeling of VIP treatment, or the extra alcohol, but all I could think about was that Henry was a good kisser. A very good kisser. And I hadn’t been kissed in a long while.

Henry followed, as if he didn’t notice my hesitation. “I’ve missed you. Sometimes I think you’re the only one who ever got me.”

He leaned in and touched his lips to mine lightly. It was as if we had never broken up. My lips knew just what to do in response.

Nick took several rapid-fire shots before I could bring myself to break off the kiss.

I put up my hands to hide my face. “When did you turn into a paparazzi?”

“Just doing my job.” He flopped onto the couch with a very Nick smile of innocence. “I guess I’ll bunk here tonight. There are only two bedrooms and you each need one.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Henry said.

“No problem.” Nick kicked off his shoes. “I’m used to bunking down in worse places than this when I’m on assignment.”

“Nothing’s going to happen that you’ll have to memorialize on film,” I said, not really knowing if that was true or not. “You can go home, if you want.” I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him gone. But I definitely didn’t like him on the couch, looking like somebody’s deadbeat brother.

“You know me. I’m not the earliest bird in the flock. I don’t want to miss any of the early morning breakfast shots.” He waved his hand toward the big window. “The balcony will give us some great outdoor lighting.”

“She’s got some great things planned for you tomorrow, too. No one can plan like our Diana.” He smiled at Henry, but then looked at me. “You’re not much of an early riser, either. You should put in your room service order now. Can you order me a goat cheese and basil omelette, with a side of bacon. And coffee.” He closed his eyes, as if he would fall asleep right there. “Lots of coffee.”

Henry opened his mouth to argue, but I picked up the phone. “Good idea. Do you still like to start with an egg white scramble and whole wheat toast?”

Henry seemed pleased that I remembered his breakfast order. As if I could forget the many times he sent back an order that dared to have a speck of yolk showing. “And orange juice.” He looked around the opulent suite. “Fresh squeezed, with a side of champagne.”

“Mimosas it is,” I agreed.

“The robes in this place are supposed to be amazing.” Henry peered into the doorway of each bedroom and paused at one. “I’ll just go make myself comfortable.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Nick mumbled from the couch.

I hung up the phone, marveling at how easily room service worked in a hotel. Even better than take out.

“Hey, stop it. This is my big break, and you’re going to ruin it for me.” I flopped down next to him.

“Do you remember this guy? He’s the one–”

“Nick. Stop. I can handle this.”

He sat up. “You kissed him.”

True. I had. What did it mean? Or did it mean anything? “I’m over my two drink limit.”

“It was more than that. For a minute, you looked like you did when you first fell for the guy.”

“Henry’s not as bad as you and Emily make him out to be.”

“Please. You were a basket case when you were dating him.”

I squinted at him, remembering. “So you say. But was it Henry that made me that way? Or you and Emily, always criticizing him?” I was just trying to needle him, but then my question struck me as valid. Had I broken up with Henry because Nick and Emily didn’t like him? Did I use my Commandments as an excuse? Or… I decided separate bedrooms was the way to go. At least until I could answer that question.