Freeing Alex (4 page)

He walks through the suite and I follow him into the
bathroom, which is of a similar theme. The walls are the same silvery grey, and
there’s a huge square bath tub and walk-in shower, loo, and his and hers wash
hand basins. The fixtures in the bathroom are all attached, the room is ready
to go it would seem.

I look around, contemplating the luxurious surroundings. His
taste is impeccable and although I know he’s had designers in, he would
ultimately have signed off on the colour schemes and choice of furniture. “It’s
beautiful, James, you’ve done an amazing job managing this, you really, really
have.”

“It’s great, isn’t it? I think these trendy rooms will be a
real hit with some of our clients. The old stuff is fine, don’t get me wrong,
and very luxurious, but it isn’t for everyone!” 

I run my hand over the chaise longue as we move out of the
room. “Most definitely, but this is
verrry
luxurious too.” 

James and I walk through the hotel
to the restaurant. He’s beside me, so close, in my space again, not that I’m
grumbling. We find the restaurant manager, Marcus, at his lectern talking to a
couple who have just arrived. We wait until he has them seated and has
introduced them to their waiter, then he returns to us. I haven’t met Marcus
yet. I haven’t met a lot of the staff, although James has assured me that they
all know of Maggie’s passing and that her
niece
is now the owner of the
hotel.

“James,” Marcus says as he walks back towards us.

“Marcus, this is Alexandra Drake. Mrs Drake is Maggie’s
niece – our new boss!” James gestures between the two of us.

“It is an absolute delight to meet you, Mrs Drake,” he
gushes, offering his hand, which I accept. His handshake is exactly what I
expected from looking at him: limp.

Marcus appears to be as camp as they come, terribly smart
and groomed to perfection, his blond hair parted and swept to one side, his
suit pristine. He’s quite short and a little rotund, but that’s putting it very
politely. He looks like he samples every single dish available in the
restaurant, on a regular basis. 

“Are you dining with us today, Mrs Drake?” he asks; he
sounds so affected. I can’t help but wonder where he was educated, wherever it
was I imagine that elocution was high up in the curriculum.

I nod. “Yes, James and I have things to discuss, but if
you’re fully booked I’m sure we can take lunch in one of the offices.” 

Marcus picks up a couple of menus. “No, no, no… I wouldn’t
hear of it. Please, let me show you to a table.” He directs us with an
outstretched arm and a flourish towards a table at the edge of the room. We
follow him over and he pulls out a chair for me. Once seated, he flicks my
napkin and drapes it across my lap. He then signals for one of the waiting
staff and walks to meet them, presumably to tell them who I am. I note that he
didn’t place James’s napkin on his lap.

We are waited on by a young girl, who James tells me is very
new to the hotel.

She says as she brings the menu over to us, “A pleasure to
meet you. Can I arrange some drinks?” She’s softly spoken, appearing very
polite.

“Just water for me,” I say and look at James.

“Same for me, please, Lola.” 

She disappears and returns very quickly with a jug of iced water.
She fills our water glasses and asks if we will be taking wine with our meal.
When we say “no” in unison, she removes the wine glasses from the table and
tells us that she’ll be back in a few minutes to take our order.

I watch James as he studies the menu. Having quickly glanced
over the leatherbound parchment, I’ve already decided that I’m just going to
have the fresh salmon with a salad. He must have noticed that I spend most of
my time watching him. Here, now, he looks in his element, like he belongs in
this hotel. Yes, I decide he’s definitely part of the furniture, but I feel I
need to know more. I don’t know what attracts me to this fine specimen of a
man, certainly his looks are exceptional, but I’ve always felt that attraction
is more than skin deep – after all, I fell for Lewis all those years ago and he
isn’t and never has been what you would call attractive! I wish I could put my
finger on what pulls me towards James. I feel like a magnet being pulled
towards him. I’m very aware of the feelings in my stomach, the longing, the
excitement.

I look at those hands as they grip the menu, those beautiful
long fingers. I keep wishing that they were on me!
Stop it, Alex, you’re too
old for him.
I give myself a reality check
. Do I even WANT another man?
Do I NEED another man? Yes, I’ve missed out on too much, much too much! I do
want a partner, a lover.

James looks at me, distracting me from my day dream. “Are
you okay?”

“I’m fine, just a bit hungry. So, tell me, James, what’s the
food like here?” I’m curious, having only had a sandwich in the bar on my
previous visits.

He laughs. “Not bad, not bad at all.” He smiles again and
rubs at the stubble on his chin. “As a matter of fact I’ve eaten here several
times.”

“Have you really?” I ask, playing along.

“Yes, and it’s really very good, the service too!” He
smiles, turning his water glass around as he looks at me, his head slightly on
one side, weighing me up again, I think.

We both laugh, not too loudly but enough to make one or two
heads turn. I feel so very relaxed in his company, really relaxed and so
comfortable, and I think, if I’m reading the signs correctly, he probably feels
comfortable too.

“Oops!” I say, snapping out of my relaxed state. “Better
keep it down, we might drive the guests away!”

“And we couldn’t have that, Mrs Drake, could we?” he
whispers, leaning forward slightly. Despite our initial frosty start, we do
seem to be getting along together very well. He has such a pleasant
disposition, easy to talk to, possibly one of the reasons why the girls seek
him out. Not that many have called, to my knowledge, not since the one I saw on
the first day I met him.

He places his menu down on the table. Obviously he’s made
his choice and signals over to Lola. She’s with us in a second and takes our
order, a pretty girl of about twenty years, I suppose, at a guess, maybe a
little younger. She’s stunning in a unique sort of way, such fair hair and
complexion, hardly any makeup, and is dressed smartly in the standard
restaurant issue uniform: straight black skirt, white blouse with a narrow dark
green tie and a black waistcoat. She appears very efficient.

“How long has she been here?” I ask James once she’s left
us.

“About three weeks. We’ve a few new waiting staff, some are
evenings only and a couple are working in the bar area.” He continues to turn
his water glass as he talks, looking down and then up at me.

“I’d like to meet them all at some point, just to say
‘hello’. I don’t want to be a faceless owner.” I sip my water, my stomach
starting to rumble with hunger.

He smiles, presumably at the rumbling. “I can arrange that
for you. Maybe a staff meeting, something like that,” he suggests.

My stomach gurgles again, I flush a little with
embarrassment. “Yes, I think that would be good.” I smile, looking down at my
noisy stomach.

We chat away, discussing the hotel and who’s stayed here:
there have been some celebrities in the recent past, and one or two sporty
types last year during the Olympics. James tells me that we had a bumper four
weeks with the hotel being full and lengthy wait lists. I look around at the
guests that are here now. The restaurant is quiet with only a handful of tables
taken, and everyone here appears to be very well dressed in expensive clothing.
Initially I felt quite poor visiting here in my chain-store clothing but that’s
changing slowly, steadily. I look back at James, he’s studying me intently. 

“What are you thinking, Alex?  You look miles away,” he
asks, a slightly concerned look on his face, a caring look about him.

“I was just thinking…” I pause, and look at my lap.
“Nothing, day dreaming, I suppose. Who’s that lady? She’s very well dressed.” I
nod my head in the general direction of a woman about the same age as me,
sporting a beautiful black fitted dress, with a low neckline, the finest
stockings, or maybe they’re tights, who knows, and killer black patent heels.

“She’s a regular – brings her clients here.” He’s
indifferent, presumably because he sees her all the time if she’s a regular.

“Her
clients
?”
My draw drops. “As in,
clients
?”

“Yes, she’s always bringing them here when they’ve won a
case.” He looks at me, confused by my obvious horror at the word
clients.

“Won a case?” Oh, Lordy – I thought she was some sort of
escort!

“Yes, as in won a case in court. What did you think? Oh!” He
laughs. “No, not
that
sort of client!”

I flush again, colouring up from my neck, but am saved any
further embarrassment by the arrival of our food. It looks very good, it
is
very good.

We continue our chat about this and that as we munch our way
through the delectable food. I couldn’t eat here all of the time, I’d soon lose
my figure! 

As we finish eating, Marcus appears. “I hope that everything
was to your satisfaction?” He looks directly at me.

“Absolutely superb, Marcus, thank you.” I dab my lips with
the linen napkin and reach for my water.

“Is there anything I can help you with whilst you’re in my
domain?” He really is so very pompous.

“I think…” I start, but am interrupted when James stands up.

“Mrs Drake is planning to drop into one of our staff
meetings. If you need to raise anything, can you do it then?” James is very
firm, making efforts to end the conversation now.

The rotund restaurant manager sniffs the air, looks at James
indifferently and continues with his own agenda. “So there’s nothing you want
to see now?” he asks again.

“I don’t think so, but please tell whoever prepared our
lunch that it was wonderful.” I stand and place my hand on his forearm. Is he
trying to brown-nose or is he just fearful for his position? “Thank you,
Marcus.” I smile as we leave the restaurant and head back to the offices.

We walk across the foyer side by side. I turn and look up at
James. “What brought you into the hotel industry?”

“Oh, family and friends, I suppose. I worked for a family
friend, just weekends and holidays, he owns a small bistro not too far from
here. He used to be business partners with my dad and taught me lots, not just
about working in a restaurant and the bistro, but I learned about Italian foods
and wines in general. From there it just sort of blossomed,” he explains as we
walk towards the staff staircase, his strides long and purposeful. I find
myself almost jogging to keep up with him, he really only knows one pace –
fast!

“A family friend?” I ask, intrigued.

“Yeah, Roberto.” His face almost lights up as he says the
man’s name. I’m intrigued.

“That’s Italian, right?” I look up at him as I jog along,
those curls and that strong jaw line. The open neck shirt, totally not what you
expect a top London hotel manager to look like.

“Yes. Roberto was like a father to me after my dad passed.”
The smile disappears from his face as he talks about his father, replaced by
just a hint of sadness.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you very young when you lost
him?” I recall my own father passing when I was eighteen, a difficult age to
lose a parent, a vulnerable age. Despite no longer being classed as a child, it
is really the time of your life when you, perhaps, need your parents more than
ever.

“Eighteen,” he replies, the brittle tone emerging again. It sounds
painful, but it’s something that we have in common, losing a parent at the same
age.

As we walk I quiz him about his background. He’s told me
bits, but there are gaps. “So, James, you started working for Maggie about five
years ago. How did she find you?” This is something that I feel I really need
to know, something that isn’t recorded anywhere and that he hasn’t told me yet.
I
want
to know this, not least because this beautiful man is now running
the most profitable business in the portfolio that Maggie left me, and despite
my feelings towards James, which are unknown to anyone, I need to be sure that
this business is in the right hands, although I have no concerns at present.

As we continue our brisk walk he explains how he came to be
here. “Maggie contacted me while I was working at a hotel in the States. I’d
only been there a few months, I didn’t like living or working there, felt
alone.” He pauses. “Anyway, she was recruiting for a new General Manager and
heard about me. I was looking for an out – a way back to the UK – she literally
contacted me one day and asked if I was interested. I wasn’t managing there, I
was deputising, but I had been General Manager elsewhere. The rest, as they
say, is history. I came back to the UK and haven’t looked back. I loved Maggie
and was devastated when she passed way.”

“So you got to come home. I bet your family were pleased to
get you back?” I smile.

“I don’t have any family to speak of, so no. Just Roberto
and his wife,” he tells me, not giving much more away.

“And they’re local?” I know I’m pressing, but this
information, about himself, seems to be in dribs and drabs.

“They are, not too far away at all. They’re the closest to
family that I have.” He slows his pace and smiles. I think he knows I’m fishing
for information.

Whilst we make our way to the office we talk about the
hotel, ideas that James has for small changes. I’m listening to him carefully,
taking everything on board, when my mobile starts ringing. I ferret in my bag
to fish the thing out from the depths of the bottomless sack of leather. The
caller’s number is withheld, possibly my solicitor.

I formally announce myself. “Alexandra Drake, hello.” 

“Hi, Mrs Drake, its Shauna from Parry’s.” The solicitor
dealing with my divorce. I hold my hand out to James to indicate for him to
wait, I need to concentrate on this call. He doesn’t move away but leans
against the wall, looking down, and indicates to me that he’s going to carry on
up to the office. I shake my head and mouth to him, “
won’t be a second”
.

“Hi Shauna, how are things going? I wanted to catch up with
you this week.”

“Well, things are going well. Everything’s right on track,
I’ve some correspondence from Mr Drake’s lawyer.” I hear the rustling of
paperwork. “It appears that Lewis is not completely happy to settle for the
£2.5million and the house in Staffordshire. Now, we did say that you’d clear
the mortgage on that, didn’t we? It’s a query they have, they want us to confirm,”
she asks. I’m stunned that Lewis is arguing about the settlement and even more
so that she felt she needed to check the house situation, I thought she had all
this written down clearly, with regard to the house anyway. I’m immediately
fired up, angry that Lewis is already creating problems with what I’ve offered,
I won’t be changing it or increasing it, he can get stuffed .