19

Faking It

As soon as we arrive at the hotel on Saturday morning, we collect our identification badges from a big table placed right at the lobby’s entrance. Then we proceed to the check-in desk to get the key to our room.

“Good morning, are you here with the Crispy Koob corporate event?” a pretty brunette receptionist asks me.

“Yes,” I confirm, annoyed, as if she needed to ask after taking a good look at the badge pinned on my chest.

“May I have your name, please?”

“Ally Johnson.”

“Thank you.” She starts typing on her computer.

How long will it take? What does she have to type, anyway? It’s taking her ages. I’m nervous; I don’t want to run into them right away. I’m fidgeting, but we are pretty early and if I know James they will get here just in time, if not late.

“You are booked in a standard double room, is that correct?” the receptionist asks after an impossibly long amount of time.

“Yep,” I reply, not looking at her and still scrutinizing the surroundings.

“Are you looking for something? May I help you?” she asks.

This must be the nosiest employee of the year.

“No, just checking for the arrival of colleagues,” I reply, devoting my full attention to her and catching a nasty comment inside her head.

She thinks I’m having an affair with one of my colleagues. Well, miss, you are wrong. If anything I’m interest in the fiancé of one of my colleagues.

“Do you have any allergies?”

What kind of question is this? Is she going to give me a full medical background check?

“Bee stings, why?”

“We proudly offer allergy friendly rooms, which feature improved air quality and significantly reduced irritants. Everything is sanitized, and special air purifiers are installed in each room to provide—”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” I interrupt her, doing my best not to roll my eyes. “Can we speed this up a little bit? I would really like to have some time before the conference begins.”

“Certainly, madam. Are you a speaker?”

Madam who? My grandma is a madam, not me.

“Uh, no.”

She’s definitely having an affair in the office then. I wonder why…with such a boyfriend why could she possibly want more?

“Very well, just a few more questions,” she says, throwing a furtive look at the genie.

Good, I want Vanessa to have the same awed reaction.

“Is a king bed fine, or would you prefer two queen beds?”

“Two queens please,” I answer without hesitation.

Maybe he’s lousy in bed. He doesn’t look the type, though, she thinks while typing some more.

No, he doesn’t, I silently agree with her.

“Non-smoking is fine?”

“Absolutely,” I spit out, irritated.

“Two keys?”

“Yes.”

“You are in room 5216. The elevators are right behind you. I hope you will enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you.” I grasp the key quickly and rush away.

“Did you know her?” the genie asks while we wait for the elevator.

“No, why?”

“She seemed like a nice young lady, but you were quite impolite to her.”

“Oh please, she was being slow on purpose because she thought I had an affair with a colleague and hoped I was caught between my boyfriend,” I point at him, just in case, “and my lover.”

“She was simply doing her job…”

“She also referred to you as an allegedly lousy lover.”

“I thus declare that she has thoroughly earned all your rudeness,” he proclaims with mock outrage.

I smile and enter the elevator.

Our room is spacious, with big windows and a nice view of the lake that I am too frantic to fully appreciate. I have to get dressed. I didn’t put on my outfit for today at home because I didn’t want it to get wrinkled during the drive; unfortunately, my magical powers don’t extend to clothes. Plus, I still have to decide between two options.

First: a little black dress, very simple but very classy. A “less is more” kind of thing.

Second: a trendy suit, in total white with skinny pants, a cool vest jacket, and a simple white tank top underneath.

After several trials and a large extent of second-guessing, I end up choosing the white silk suit. It’s more summery and, I don’t know, it just feels better.

Footwear: I leave my perpetually manicured feet almost bare in a pair of flat Sergio Rossi pink gold sandals. Lunch is going to be outside, and I don’t want to wear heels when I have to walk in the grass.

We get changed and go back to the lobby, where I regretfully watch the genie head to the dining room while a man in uniform ushers me toward the conference hall instead.

As I enter the room, I feel a mix of tranquility and impatience. On one hand I am relaxed, as I am sure I will not bump into James here; on the other hand, I am a bit restless, as three hours will have to pass before I can see him. I choose my seat comfortably in the back on the left side, and as close as it gets to the wall-wide windows where I can ignore the whole conference without being spotted, and where I have a vantage point to see what’s going on outside.

Another perk of sitting in the back is that I get to see Vanessa sneak in with a thunderous expression half an hour after the first speech has begun. I adore being right. They probably argued all the way here. After that I zone out completely. It takes a couple of hours for the guest of honor to be finally presented.

“… please welcome Henry Georges,” somebody is announcing in the microphone, “CEO of Crispy Koob Corporation World.” Round of applause.

Last year, I muse, if such a speaker was present at the corporate annual event, I would have been eagerly sitting in the first row, notepad in hand, ready to suck in any precious word of wisdom I could absorb from the mighty figure. I would have recorded the whole speech on my phone to go over it again later, making sure I didn’t miss any fundamental bits, and I would have studied days, maybe weeks, to come up with an intelligent, cutting-edge question to pose for the Q&A session.

This year I couldn’t care less about the company vision; my sole focus for the last couple of hours has been to alternately scan the outside in hope of spotting either James or the genie, and to compulsively check the time on my phone. I don’t think I’ve missed a single minute.

I can’t wait for these boring speeches to be over; being stuck here the whole morning is pure torture. I want to show off the genie and see the look on Vanessa’s face, but mostly I am nervous about seeing James. Surprise, surprise. I feel like the only thing keeping me away from the truth is this stupid round of motivational talks!

***

When I finally get out, I spot the genie first. He’s leisurely leaning against a giant tree, his gaze lost on the horizon past the lake. I have to admit that he looks dashing in his carefully selected casual clothes. After a morning spent in an artificial sixty-degree climate, I rush toward him, relishing the warm sensation of the sun on my skin and the fresh air.

Luckily, the weather has cleared out. When we arrived here it was cold, the sky overcast and threatening to storm. But now the clouds are gone and the sky is an immaculate expanse of blue. It’s so bright out here that I have to put on my new sunglasses.

“Hey you, how was the morning? Did you miss me?” I ask, approaching him from behind.

“Dearly so,” he says, turning toward me, “although I was kept company by Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Pitt…most generous women,” he says, smiling.

“So you had fun?” I ask skeptically, as from the surnames they must have been the wives of our chief accountant and his vice. Not the funniest people in the world.

“My patience was badly abused,” he confirms, still smiling.

“Let’s check out the buffet, I’m starving.” I take his hand and we walk arm in arm toward the food station. “Have you perhaps seen James?” I ask casually.

“Indeed, I’ve spoken to him briefly.”

“What?” I stop mid-step, letting go of his arm. “And you weren’t going to say anything?”

“You did not ask.”

“Sometimes you are impossible. Come on, tell me everything. Be as detailed as possible,” I urge him.

“I will try my best. Let us see…I was in the refreshments area and I was trying to select a flavor of tea to go with the lemon biscuits. I was undecided between a white tea blend and…”

“I meant be precise about what James said, not about what stupid tea you were choosing.” I swear he’s doing this on purpose.

“Right, let us get straight to the point then. While I was sipping my delicious tea—an Earl Gray, in case you were wondering…”

I roll my eyes, cross my arms in front of me, and stare at him with my most powerful evil stare.

“I assume you were not,” he comments, smirking. “Well, to be concise, I found myself standing next to him and I politely said hello. He said hello back.”

“And what else?”

“Nothing, it was a very civil greeting. That was all.”

“Are you joking? That’s not it, is it?” I ask furiously.

“In fact I am…you should soften a little. It is never a good thing to meet an ex-lover in such a distressed state.”

“The only thing stressing me right now is you! Can we move on to what James said?”

“We made some small talk, establishing we were here with our respective girlfriends, and then he proceeded to copiously compl—”

“Wait, did he say girlfriend or fiancée?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

“I do not recall precisely, but I believe he did not use the word fiancée specifically.”

“Good, go on.”

“As I was saying, he complained profusely about being dragged to such an event when he could have been doing something productive instead.”

“Yeah, I know, he hates this kind of thing. I only ever managed to bring him to a Christmas party, and we broke up two weeks later, so I’m surprised she managed to get him here for a whole weekend. Could she have him under some sort of spell?”

“I hardly believe so. However, to confirm what you just said, he as well told me that his ex-girlfriend was great as she never forced him to accompany her, except if it was a real party with free…boos?”

“Booze. He meant alcoholic beverages. Is ‘great’ the actual word he used to describe me?”

“Yes, he said great.”

“So I am great. I wonder what Vanessa is. Anything else?”

“Yes, he added that both his ex-girlfriend and new girlfriend were here today, and that he hoped to avoid a…let me quote… ‘cat fight’?”

“Did he say that? Arrogant bastard, what does he think? That I’m spending all my time pining after him?”

“Are you not?”

“Of course I am, but he’s not entitled to think so. I bet he’ll have a bit of a shock when I introduce him to my handsome, exotic boyfriend.”

“Exotic?”

“Everything European is considered exotic over here.”

“Oh my, the world has turned upside-down. In my time it was the other way around. I will keep handsome, though,” he says with a mischievous look.

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s mostly due to my makeover,” I mock him.

“If you say so,” he replies, giving me a wink that causes my stomach to do an unintentional little flip.

He really must have been a lady-killer in his time. For the first time, I find myself thinking that the freezing-upon-contact rule isn’t so stupid after all, or maybe it’s just my abstinence talking. I haven’t been with a man for how long? Awk, since James! I’m probably regrowing my virginity by now. At the thought, a furious blush spreads over my cheeks.

“Are you well, milady?” the genie asks, noticing my sudden coloring. “You seem flustered.”

“I’m fine, and how many times do I have to tell you not to call me milady?” I hiss, glad that I am the one who can read minds and not him. “Let’s go eat.”