A Window to Love (Windows) (Volume 1) (9 page)

At our table, we found Jane and her hot model draped over
the couch engaged in another lip lock. I disrupted them long enough to tell her
I was leaving. As we headed for the exit, I remembered I didn't pay for the
champagne and didn't want to stick Jane with the bill. “Evan I need to close
our tab.”

He didn't stop but guided me into the elevator, “Don't
worry, it was already taken care of, bébé. Do you think I would let you go to a
club where I didn’t have contacts?”

Surprised, I tensed up. “You had people watching me? The two
men that were constantly speaking into their headsets?”

“Of course. You’re important to me, bébé,” he said before
giving me a chaste kiss.

As we headed outside, the cold winter air hit me in the
face, and I realized how drunk I was. Thankfully, Evan had a firm grip on me
and helped me into the car.

“Hello, Charles,” I slurred. “Thank you for bringing us
here; we had so much fun, even if you were babysitting me!”

“My pleasure, Ms. Bennette,” Charles laughed softly.

Arriving at Evan’s apartment, he gently shook me awake and
then scooped me up into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my
face in his chest and he carried me directly to his bedroom. He helped me
remove my clothes then tucked me into bed before handing me a bottle of water
and some aspirin. Quietly, I thanked him, “Merci.” I choked back the tears that
wanted to flow.

My heart broke in two when I heard him say, “This wasn't the
way I planned to end our time together.” The tears came. I rolled away from
him. I didn't want him to see my face.

Evan didn't say another word. He just took off his clothes
and climbed in behind me. A sense of relief overcame me when he molded his body
against mine and hugged me tight.

OOOOH. I FELT like shit when I woke
up. I drank way too much last night, and today I was going to pay for it. The
throbbing in my head almost drowned out the pain in my heart, knowing I would
be saying goodbye to Evan this morning.

I moved as fast as I could into the bathroom to get ready
for work. I found that Evan had set out more aspirin and a bottle of water on
the counter for me. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, fixed my hair into
a ponytail, applied a little make up and packed up all of my toiletries into my
bag. I had one last sexy, fun outfit for my workday, but it didn't matter. No
clothing could make up for my drunken escapade last night. Unexcited, I got
dressed, gathered my clothes and packed them up.

Rolling my suitcase into the living room, I heard Evan call
out, “There's some coffee and baguette for you in the kitchen.”

“Merci. I mean thank you,” I said quietly as I walk to get
my breakfast. I passed on the baguette, not sure that I could swallow past the
lump in my throat and poured a cup of coffee. From the kitchen, I could see
Evan. I watched him in silence for a few minutes as I gathered myself.
Summoning up all my courage, I walked over and sat down across from him.
Reluctantly I asked, “Will you be riding to work this morning with me? If
you're too busy, I understand.”

Without taking his eyes off his tablet, he answered in a
distracted tone, “Actually I have a meeting this morning so we'll drop you on
the way.”

I gazed out at the view as I sipped my coffee and wondered
how I could have let myself get in so deep with this man. Even the hot coffee
was not enough to chase away the chill that had come between us this morning. I
whispered softly into my cup, “Stupid stupid stupid.”

“What did you say?” I heard Evan ask, and I realized I said
those last words louder than I thought.

I quickly responded, “Oh nothing. Just thinking of what I
needed to do today.”

I finished my coffee, got up to take our empty dishes to the
kitchen and set them in the sink.

As I walked back, Evan was closing his tablet and standing
up, “Ready to go?”

“Yes.” I walked to my bag and started to roll it, but Evan
grabbed it for me. “We can stop at your building and have the doorman take your
bag up.”

I didn't say a word as I was concentrating on not crying.

As usual, Charles was waiting for us. I climbed in, and Evan
followed. No pat on the ass, no caress. It was over as quickly as it began.

After a quick stop at my building to drop off my bag, too
soon the McDimel-Sanders building came into view. Evan exited first and
extended his hand to help me. The touch of his hand left me devastated. I
reached up and brushed his gorgeous face with my fingertips. I kissed him
softly on the lips. Willing myself not to cry, softly I said, “Thank you for
everything. I'm truly sorry about last night.” Before he could respond, I
turned and walked quickly to the building. Behind me, I could hear Evan saying
something, but I didn't stop to listen.

By the time I reached the door, tears were pouring down my
face. I rode the elevator up, keeping my head down and my tears shielded from
prying eyes. As soon as the doors opened onto the thirty-third floor, I went
straight into the bathroom to splash water on my face and apply some lipstick.

I walked into the art department and saw Jane with her head
down on her desk. “I see you feel as I do.”

“Melissa you are no longer my friend. You are a bad, bad,
bad influence” she said laughing, grabbing her head. “Oh! No laughing today.”

“The last time I saw you, you were tangling tongues your hot
model.”

Jane’s head popped up, and she reprimanded me, “Why do you
call him that? He does have a name.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. Then inquired with his proper name,
“Did you go home with Ryan?”

“No, but this weekend we’re going away. He's picking me up
from work this afternoon so let's take an early lunch, grab something quick and
spicy to eat and go shopping. I need some lingerie and sexy clothes. And you
could get some to entice your hot model dude.”

I start laughing when she called Evan the model dude. Better
to laugh than to cry. “Shopping sounds good,” I said with no emotion.

Jane and I worked part of the morning finishing up our last
project of the year, getting ready for our two-week holiday furlough for
Christmas and New Years. By mid-morning, we had a staff meeting to discuss the
photo shoot we worked on this week. We compiled all the artwork together that
needed to be sent to the client along with the photos and videos. This busy
work was a nice distraction, making the morning fly by and before I knew it we
were heading out for lunch. We had sushi rolls with lots of ginger and wasabi. 
Nothing like a bit of spiciness to right a hangover. With our bellies
satisfied, we indulged in some retail therapy.

Returning to work, we each carried several shopping bags.
Jane’s date was going to be thrilled with her purchases or maybe titillated was
a better word. My treasures would be for no one but me. To my surprise the
shopping was enjoyable thanks to Jane; she made everything fun.

The rest of the day I worked on some sketches, occasionally
looked at my phone, hoping for a sexy text from Evan but no such luck. I was
surprised that he ended our time together like this. I know that I did not
leave a good impression with my drunken behavior last night, but I couldn't
believe that that would make him turn away from me so abruptly. Then I
remembered his conversation with “Isabelle” and mentioning a weekend getaway.
Maybe he was already out of town…

“Earth to Melissa.” Jane tapped me on the shoulder. “I'm
taking off.” I stood up to hug her, and we placed air kisses on each other’s
cheeks. Pulling away, walking out the door she added, “Have a good weekend. See
you Monday.”

I nodded and waved at her, “You have a good weekend too.”

ONCE JANE WALKED out, I quickly
cleaned up my area, gathered all my purchases and headed for the elevator. I
was hoping Evan was standing in the lobby with a wicked smile on his face, but
he wasn't. The vision of him standing and waiting for me was another thing I
would miss. That gorgeous man made this lobby a treat every time I stepped out
of the elevator. From now on, it would be dull and lifeless. I sighed and
walked out of the building. Heading to the curb, I hailed a cab and gave him my
address as he pulled away from the curb. As we were getting closer to my
apartment, I changed my mind. “Change of plans. Take me to JFK.”

“No problem, miss,” he said. He made a quick few turns, and
we made our way to the airport.

I had no idea where to go, but I just couldn't go back to my
apartment. It was now filled with memories of Evan and all of our intimate time
together. I knew his taste, his smell; his essence would now permeate from
every wall and surface of my home. Once in the terminal, I looked at the list of
flights set to leave this afternoon and decided on Los Angeles because there
was a flight scheduled to leave in an hour. I was hoping maybe a little
sunshine would brighten my spirits. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded
of how much this holiday sucks! How was it that it just kept getting worse?
Sunshine didn't equal Christmas in my book and California would be a perfect
distraction for me. I purchased a ticket, headed toward the shops to purchase a
carry-on bag for all my new clothes then arrived at my gate with just minutes
to spare.

With still no word from Evan, I turned my phone off and
boarded the plane for California. Five hours and several in-flight beverages
later I landed at LAX then made my way to my hotel. While waiting for my
flight, I went online and secured a room with an ocean view at the spectacular
Shutters on the Beach, one of the finest hotels on the Santa Monica boardwalk.
I may have selected the wrong hotel for my escape. The pale grey wood-slatted
hotel with its white wooden balconies and plantation shutters was definitely a
place for lovers.

My heart was heavy. I was tense. I could smell Evan’s scent
on my clothing, and I was reminded of the last time he was inside of me, loving
me. I could see the look in his face when our eyes locked in the bathroom
mirror. I was wishing I could feel him now. I wanted his body wrapped around
me. His lips on mine. Tears slid down my cheeks as I looked out the cab window
at the beautiful surroundings. I decided this is not paradise, I was in sunny
hell.

I checked into the hotel and went to my room. Striping off
my clothes, I took a quick shower, put on a plush hotel robe and ordered room
service. Sitting on the balcony, I looked out at the pier filled with fun and
laughter, I would imagine. The amusement park situated on the pier was all lit
up. I could see a roller coaster whizzing along the rails with faint screams of
exhilaration. The Ferris wheel looked like a jewel twirling around slowly, so
romantique, I imagined riding it with Evan.

The thought of not sharing all of this with him sent tears
down my face, and my throat felt as if it was closing, like I was suffocating.
Any hopes I had of eating the gourmet grill cheese sandwich and tomato bisque I
ordered were dashed. Closing my eyes, using my yoga techniques, taking several
deep breaths and meditating, I tried to relax. Managing to gain control of my
breathing, I reached a level of calm, but my emotional state was dim. Though I
was not able to choke down the food that smelled and looked divine, I did
manage to slosh back a bottle of champagne. Bubbly flowed into me straight from
the bottle, and tears flowed down my face. Once the bottle was empty I dragged
myself to the bed, I didn't bother to pull the covers back, I just curled up in
a ball and cried myself to sleep.

Before the sun came up, I heard the incessant ringing of a
phone. In the dark, I searched out my purse and dug for my phone. Let it be
Evan! Let it be Evan! It wasn't.

It was Jane yelling into the phone, “Melissa, where the hell
are you?”

I was stammering, “I... I... I didn't want to tell you that
Evan dumped me. I couldn't bear to go back to my apartment and be alone with
memories of Evan.”

Her voice elevated, “Where are you?”

Rambling on I told her, “I had to leave. I should've known
better. He told me he's not a relationship guy.”

“Where the fuck are you?” Jane demanded to know.

I wasn't listening to her as I continued on, “I love him. He
doesn't love me.”

She was trying to speak calmly, “I know you do, baby girl.”
She paused and then continued in a softer voice, “Listen Melissa, you need to
tell me where you are.”

I didn't want to answer her question. “You shouldn't worry
about me. I'm used to being alone. Enjoy your weekend with Ryan.”

Her patient tone remained, “Seriously, honey. You are
scaring me. Please tell me where you are.”

Still I refused to give in, “I'm fine. I just need to
regroup. I will be back Monday or Tuesday.”

Jane’s patience was waning, and her voice raised a few
octaves, “If you don't tell me where you are, I'm going to report you missing
and have the police pull your credit card records. You know I have
connections.”

“Okay. Okay.” I confessed my whereabouts, “I'm in Santa
Monica.”

“You are WHERE?” Jane yelled into the phone loud enough that
I moved the phone away from my ear.

Taking a few deep breaths, I told her, “After you left the
office yesterday, I did too and headed for the airport. Sunshine sounded good.
Stop worrying about me. Enjoy your weekend. I'll see you in a few days.”

“Make sure to keep your phone on. I'm going to keep checking
in with you.” I heard Jane take a deep breath and hesitantly, she added,
“Melissa, Evan called me. He was worried about you when you never showed up at
your apartment.”

I was surprised by her words. “How would he know I never
showed up? He hasn’t even called or texted me.”

“He didn't give me details, but he’s worried.” She’s
speaking softly. “Maybe you should call him…”

Abruptly I cut her off, “No, I need some time to get used to
being without him. You can tell him I'm fine. I will be back in the city Monday
or Tuesday. I'll see you soon.

“Think about calling him. See you on Monday. I love you,
honey.”

“Tuesday more like it. I love you too. Bye”

“Bye. Be safe. Don’t do anything dumb, my friend.”

I hung up with Jane and fell back to sleep. I was exhausted
from crying all night.

Waking up a few hours later to a sunny day was welcoming
treat. I ordered coffee, fruit and croissants for breakfast and ate out on the
balcony. Realizing I had nothing to wear for this warm weather, I decided it
was time to go shopping for summer clothes. The jeans, sweaters and high heels
I purchased yesterday will not do when it's 80 degrees in December. Truly
a-fucking-mazing!

Dressed in the coolest sweater I had, jeans and heels, I
ventured out. I stop to ask the concierge about places to shop. He informed me
that shopping was within walking distance, but as he looked at my shoes, he
suggested I have a car drop me off. Happily, I accepted the assistance.

When I arrived at the shopping area, I went straight to a
shoe shop and purchased a pair of fashionable ballet slippers, a couple pairs
of sandals, and one pair of high heel sandals. Now I was ready to walk down the
Santa Monica Promenade, a fabulous open-air shopping street. Next on my list of
must-buys for warm weather; skirts, t-shirts, a white blouse, a lightweight
jacket and a sundress. To brighten my spirits, I decided I needed some fun
accessories; designer sunglasses and costume jewelry; bracelets, necklaces and
a few cocktails rings. Equipped with a new wardrobe, I pop into a dressing room
to change into an appropriate “summer” outfit; skirt, t-shirt, sandals and
mood-elevating jewelry.

Feeling a little uplifted, I strolled down the block in
search of a place to have lunch. The warm weather inspired me to find a
restaurant where I could sit outside and look out to the ocean. Sitting on the
patio at the Blue Plate Oysterette on Ocean Boulevard, I ordered a glass of
Mirabelle Brut champagne along with their delicious smelling lobster mac and
cheese. I watched people stroll along the cliff boardwalk; families, children;
dogs; couples and my thoughts ran to Evan… I wanted to be one those couples; I
wanted the children; I wanted the dogs… I wanted a family.

Evan…

I WAS A nervous wreck all night. I
barely slept a wink. When Melissa didn’t come home last night, I tried her
phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Thinking maybe she went back to my
apartment, I headed over there, but she had not shown up there either.
Returning back to her empty apartment, I knew something was wrong. I expected
to hear from Melissa or at least see her after work. Was it possible that she
didn’t hear me say I’ll see you at your apartment tonight when I dropped her at
work? If she didn’t hear me, why would she call me, I should’ve called or
texted her yesterday. How would she feel when I didn’t pick her up from work as
I usually do? I really fucked up!

As soon as I woke up this morning alone in Melissa’s bed, I
knew I needed a plan. I had to find her: Was she hurt? Did she have plans?
Maybe she’s with Jane. I needed Jane’s phone number. Where would I find her
number? Then it hit me, maybe the first desk had it for an emergency contact. I
rushed down to the lobby, and I was suddenly relieved to see her number on
Melissa’s contact list and I called her immediately going back up to the
apartment.

“Jane.” I practically screamed at her. “It's Evan. Is
Melissa with you?”

“No. I'm out of town for the weekend. I haven't seen her
since we were getting ready to leave work. I thought she was with you,” she
sounded confused.

“No. She never arrived at her apartment last night or this
morning. I'm at her apartment now.” I raked my hand through my hair, wondering
where she could be.

“Did you call her?”

“I tried all night, but it went straight to voicemail. Now
it just rings.” I paused, and then voice my assumption, “I think I made a big
mistake by not texting her yesterday. Our last night together was not
exactly par for the course with us, and now I think maybe she doesn't want to
speak with me. Jane, I’m afraid something has happened to her, will you please
call her and let me know that she's okay?”

“Of course.” Jane’s voice was shaking as she spoke, “Now,
I'm worried about her. I'll call her right now. I'll call you as soon as I know
something.”

An hour later my phone rang. I answered it immediately. I
sounded like an interrogator as I rattled questions at Jane, “Where is she? Is
she ok?”

Quietly she answered me, “Apparently, she was upset about
you dumping her.”

“WHAT?” I shouted.

“That's what she said.” Then hesitantly she added, “She said
she needed to getaway. To think. To get used to being without you.”

“What the hell? SHIT!” I shouted and then took a few deep
breaths, “I should've texted her yesterday. I wanted to surprise her.” Rubbing
my forehead, I calmly asked, “Where is she?”

Reluctantly, she answered, “She hopped a flight to L.A.”

At first, I wasn’t sure I heard her right, “She what? Does
she know someone there? Do you know where she’s staying?”

“Santa Monica, but she wouldn’t give me details. She said
she would be back Monday or Tuesday.”

“I need to find her now, Jane.” I shouted and then quietly I
told her, “I have to find my bébé. I need to take her in arms. She has to know
how I feel about her. I have to tell her how I feel about her.”

“Okay, Evan.” She was quiet for a moment before delivering a
possible solution, “I have a friend that could trace her credit card activity.
I'll call him right now.”