Initiating Amy Page 6

“Yeah, I do,” she said, even though she didn’t.

  Lance dropped the papers onto the table. “So, how do you want to do this?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Amy. “What do you think?”

  “I think we should get together after work tomorrow and start right away. We’ll make a few phone calls, see how successful we are, and take it from there.”

  “Tomorrow night?” Amy didn’t expect to be thrust together with Lance so quickly. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, and the question in her voice conveyed this.

  “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. Do you have plans? It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. It’s just, with me, given a task, I dive right into it.”

  Amy gathered herself. “Tomorrow is fine.” Tomorrow is fine. She repeated this to herself as both an affirmation and an attempt to convince herself that she could do this. “Tomorrow is fine.”

  “Good,” he said, springing up from his chair. “Tomorrow.” Before Amy knew it, he was out of the room.

  When she heard the elevator ding, she realized that he was gone. She sat alone in the dining room, sinking into the back of the chair, taking stock of what just happened. In the course of an hour, she went from daydreaming about a man to being thrust into his presence. She was faced with the fact that she would probably be alone with him at his place. His place? Someplace. Then what?

  “Oh my god.” Amy got up from the chair, walking through the door. She realized she had gone the wrong way when she entered the living room. She stood looking at the ornate sofa, lamps and side tables, further realizing she didn’t know which way was out. As she stood trying to decide if she should go back or venture on, Eve came into the room.

  When she saw Amy, she smiled. “It happened to me too, when I first came here.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I didn’t know which way was out.”

  “Which way is out?” asked a relieved Amy.

  “Come, let me show you.” Eve walked across the floor and gently took Amy by the arm. Amy slid her arm through Eve’s, willingly following. She liked Eve.

  What started out as Eve guiding Amy to the elevator led to the two of them sitting in the lobby bar downstairs. Amy didn’t question it. She was happy to follow Eve’s lead. When Eve suggested a quick drink together, Amy agreed. It had been a strange evening. A drink was definitely in order.

  When the two entered the bar, Mike the bartender immediately recognized Eve, springing to life, smiling as they approached. As they sat down side by side on two stools at the bar, he came over and placed two martini glasses in front of them. Silently, not taking his eyes off of Eve, he quickly went about preparing the drinks. Amy thought it odd that he would assume what they wanted, but she didn’t say anything. Eve seemed fine with it.

  Amy watched the little dance that was taking place between Eve and Mike with interest and amusement. She watched while he went about his business, one eye on his work, the other on Eve. Equally amusing was how Eve did her best not to look at him, obviously aware of his presence, and obviously ignoring it. She looked around the room, at Amy, at her fingernails, fished in her purse for a handkerchief. She looked interested in everything except the show that was going on at the bar right in front of her.

  Mike finished with a flourish, popping the top of the martini shaker off and pouring the clear liquid into the two glasses. One in each hand, he slid the drinks towards them, standing for a moment, an expectant look on his face. Amy looked at Eve, who reached around for the drink without looking at it, or Mike. She raised it to her lips and took a sip.

  Amy reached for her glass and said, “Thank you very much.”

  Mike smiled at her, nodded and sullenly walked down to the other end of the bar.

  Amy sipped her drink. It was strong, pure alcohol. She placed it back on the bar and swiveled on her stool to look at Eve. They both laughed.

  “What was that,” Amy asked.

  “What?” Eve had a coy look on her face.

  “C’mon.” Amy drew a circle in the air with her finger. “All that. That whole little dance that just happened here. What’s with you and that cute, sexy bartender?”

  Eve brought her martini glass up to her lips, smiled and said, “Great abs, too.” She sipped.

  A look of understanding came over Amy’s face. “You slept with him.”

  Eve nodded he head, the martini glass still at her lips. “Once.”

  “How’d that happen?”

  “It just did. It was one of those things. I was visiting Aunt Ev and was bored one night. I came down for a drink at the bar. Long story short, one drink lead to another.” She paused to sip again. “It was one time. I wasn’t looking for anything, not a relationship anyway. Besides, he’s not my type. “

  “What’s your type?” Once Amy said it she thought perhaps she shouldn’t have. She just met Eve, and that was a rather forward question.

  Eve didn’t mind. “He’s pretty, but I need more from a man. Someone who takes charge, who knows what he wants and takes it. Strength, character, that sort of thing.” Eve nodded towards the bartender with her head. “He’s a nice guy, but he didn’t make that much of an impression on me really.”

  “By the puppy dog look on his face, I think you made an impression on him.”

  “Yeah well”—Eve took another sip of her martini—“it happens.”

  The two sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes before Amy spoke. “This Lover’s Ball seems rather important to your aunt.”

  “It is.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought someone like your aunt would be so involved with it.”

  “What do you mean someone like my aunt?” Eve wasn’t offended, just curious.

  “I don’t know. She seems pretty reserved, and I hear she’s a bit of a recluse. Not much of a socialite.”

  “She was different when she was younger. Life takes its toll sometimes, and some show it more than others.”

  “Like your aunt.”

  “Like my aunt. She loved once. But I think it was only once.” Eve paused to take a sip of her martini. “The ball means more to her than anyone really knows. She fell in love at the ball.”

  Amy took a moment to reflect on this. “Is she still with him?”

  “She lost him that very same night.” Eve saw the puzzled look on Amy’s face. “I know. It sounds like something out of the movies. Bogie and Bacall. But who can say where we find love? It was love at first sight. She truly is a romantic.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but she doesn’t come across that way at all.”

  “But she is, trust me, I know. Get to know her, and you’ll see. She’s a lovely person.”

  Maybe it was the martini that emboldened Amy to ask, “Are you with anyone?”

  “I was, until recently.” Eve paused. “I’m afraid I’m a little bit like my aunt. I’m waiting for my love at first sight, my thunderbolt moment.” Eve paused, taking a sip of her martini before saying, “It looks like you might have found your moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lance. Now there’s a man of strength.” She paused, pensive. She blinked and focused on Amy again. “Anything happening there?”

  Amy flushed. “I’m not with Lance.” She tried to cover up her unease by sipping her drink.

  “Ah.”

  “Ah,” questioned Amy. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that you don’t even know you’ve had your thunderbolt moment. Does he know it?”

  “No. I don’t know. No.”

  Eve giggled. “He does.”

  Amy was embarrassed, although she wasn’t sure if it was because of what Eve just said, or the thought of Lance knowing that she was interested in him. “How do you know that?”

  “All I have to do is look at the two of you.”

  “What do you see?”

  “I see that you’re taken by him and you think he doesn’t know it, but he does. He sees it, and he likes it. He’s playing with you, w
aiting for you to say something.”

  “I can’t do that. He’s got to say something first, not me.”

  Eve smiled. “He might, but not before he plays with you a bit more.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Doesn’t have to be fair. He’ll come around eventually. He’ll get tired of waiting, and he’ll do something about it.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “I do. I’ve seen his type before. They’re playful at first, but then, once they decide the game is over, they take what they want.”

  Amy liked the way this was going. “Do you think?”

  “I do. Just be ready when he does.”

  Amy took a long drink of her martini, finishing it off in one gulp. “I am.”

  The elevator doors opened and Eve stepped into the Penthouse. It was late, and she headed for her bedroom. As she moved through the Penthouse, she came across her aunt sitting in the living room, reading a book.

  “Where did you go?” asked her aunt.

  “I went down to have a drink with Amy. I like her.”

  “Yes. Her and Lance make a nice couple.”

  “They’re not couple, Aunt Ev.”

  “Interesting,” said Evelyn.

  Chapter 4

  “It’s morning, just get dressed already.”

  Amy was talking out loud to herself, or more accurately, to her reflection in the mirror. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, dressed in her third outfit so far, still unsure of what to wear. If it was just a normal workday the choice would be easy, but this was not a normal workday. Well, it was, but it wasn’t. The workday itself was normal, it was what was happening after work that was different. She was meeting Lance and they were going to work together on the Lover’s Ball invitation list.

  Amy wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen with Lance tonight. For all she knew, nothing. But what if it wasn’t nothing? What if the connection she felt last night was more than nothing? What if it was something? She didn’t want to leave that to chance. So much of her life up to this point was undirected, left to chance. She hated the feeling of being a passenger in her own life. No more, she decided, no more. Starting today, she was taking control, making things happen, leading rather than following, taking charge of her own life.

  Amy smiled at herself in the mirror. Bold words, almost as bold—and ridiculous—as the most recent outfit she was wearing. Great for the club, but not for the office. She quickly took off the low cut backless dress and threw it onto the bed. She stood in front of the mirror in nothing but her panties and bra. Then it occurred to her.

  Amy rushed over to the closet. Kneeling down and fishing amongst the dozens of pairs of shoes that lived in the closet, she pulled out a red, flat, slim box. She rushed back over to the mirror, while at the same time, reaching into the box and pulling out its contents. She held a red lace bra and matching lace panties. She smiled. She bought the lingerie a few weeks before she and Frank separated, but never wore them. This was the solution. A sensible work outfit on top of sexy lingerie. Whatever the day may bring, she was ready.

  It finally dawned on her that she had a date. As she took off her sensible white panties and bra. Amy grew nervous at the thought of going on a date. The last date she was with Frank, and even then, Frank was only the second man she ever dated. First there was Jimmy Malone, forgettable and unfortunate as that was. Then came Frank and well, that was it.

  Amy’s nervousness gave way to excitement, the thought of something new, the thrill of someone new. She was getting ahead of herself. Was this really a date? They were thrown together by the ball, that was all. Maybe she was making more of it than it was. It was a work project, probably nothing more. What was she thinking?

  She was thinking that she wanted it to be more than a work project, she just wasn’t sure if she knew how to make that happen. Knowing what little she knew about Lance, what little she had seen of him, she was sure that if he wanted more, he would take it. She wouldn’t be the one making it happen.

  Amy stood before the mirror, looking at herself naked. At least she was in shape. A little pale mind you, but so was her mother. All the women in her family were pale skinned, and with it came the mousey red hair. She turned sideways to look at herself from a different angle, thinking of what Lance might see. She reached for the bra and slid into it. She was surprised to find that it was a little tight. Sure her breasts were small, but not that small. She turned to face herself in the mirror, pleased now to see that the tight bra made her breasts look larger than they were. She stepped into the panties and looked at herself again. She was amused how the red lace panties matched her red pubic hair.

  A quick look at the clock told her that she was spending way too much time dressing this morning. She was officially late. She quickly dressed in a conservative black work suit, much more appropriate than what she had on previous, and matching black pumps. She giggled at the contrast her underwear made, thrilled with the idea of what may unfold tonight.

  She grabbed her purse and jacket and rushed out the door.

  Lance strode through the lobby of the Broadstone Hotel, confident and assured steps. Although he kept his gaze forward, he saw everything happening around him. Nothing escaped his trained eye. He stopped, standing to the right of the elevator banks, his back to the wall, his gaze on the front doors. He looked at his watch and then looked back to the front doors. “She’s late.”

  While Lance was trying to decide if he should stay or carry on his morning rounds, Amy rushed through the revolving doors, the doors swinging wildly from the extra push she gave them. Amy spilled into the lobby as if thrown forward by the revolution of the doors. She stopped and gathered her balance before moving towards the elevators. In her rush across the lobby she didn’t notice Lance standing by the elevators until she was almost on top of him. Her step faltered slightly when she saw him, but she quickly regained her poise. She didn’t expect to see him until later this evening, and this threw her off. On the bus ride in to work she was finally able to get him and this evening’s possibilities out of her mind, beginning to focus on her workday first, but now, seeing him, she was thrown off kilter again.

  Amy tried to appear as relaxed as possible as she reached to press the elevator button. Lance’s hand shot out and pushed the button for her. Amy smiled a nervous smile.

  “Thanks,” she said, keeping her voice under control as she stepped into the elevator car.

  “You’re late today.” He tried not to make it sound like a judgement, but he failed.

  “Wardrobe issues,” Amy replied. A thought then occurred to her. “How do you know I’m late?” She was a little flattered that he knew this.

  “Well, you made a good choice. It was worth it,” he said, ignoring her question.

  Amy turned around to speak to Lance further, maybe even flirt a little as a prelude to tonight, but to her chagrin, he was gone. She watched him striding across the lobby as the elevator doors closed.

  “That’s it?” Amy mumbled as she leaned against the back wall of the elevator car, watching Lance disappear as the doors closed. That’s it? Her shoulders slumped. She reached under her blouse and adjusted her bra strap. ‘Great,’ she thought, ‘guess I read that wrong.’ She continued to tug on her bra strap throughout the whole elevator ride up to the fourth-floor executive offices, further lamenting the fact of how uncomfortable her new underwear was, regretting putting it on.

  Lance continued through the lobby, walking towards the front doors of the hotel, smiling. His continuous motion took him through the revolving doors and out of the building. He emerged to see Miranda’s black sedan parked right in front of the doors to the hotel. He walked over to the car and knocked on the driver’s side window.

  Miranda rolled the window down, wordlessly looking up at Lance.

  “You can’t park here,” he said to Miranda’s blank stare.

  “Whatever.” She gave him a dismissive look. “Well?”

  “All
good, we’re working together on the committee.”

  “Good. Don’t fuck it up.” Not waiting for a reply, she looked forward, rolled up the car window and drove out of the driveway.

  Lance stood, bemused. Cesar the doorman came over to him. “She’s an odd one, that one.”

  Lance looked at Cesar. “That’s for sure.” He patted Cesar on the shoulder before moving down the driveway, continuing his rounds.

  It was just after noon and Miranda was sitting in her sedan in the parking lot behind the hotel, eating salad from a plastic container that she had brought from home. She was doing this more often now, avoiding the hotel cafeteria, preferring the quiet of her car. As she finished the last bits of her lunch, she heard the passenger’s back door open. Looking into the rear-view mirror, she saw Amy sliding into the back seat, slamming the door behind her. Miranda stifled a smile. She was actually glad to see Amy, yet for some reason she didn’t want to show it.

  Amy squirmed around the back seat of the sedan, tugging at her bra strap.

  “You okay back there?” asked Miranda.

  “Yeah, fine,” shot back Amy, still squirming around. “I put on the wrong underwear this morning. It keeps riding up on me.” As if to illustrate her point, she slid forward on the seat, falling out of Miranda’s sight. Miranda threw a shoulder to look back at her friend. Amy was trying to rearrange her panties.

  “Let me guess, something sexy. Crotch-less?

  “C’mon, really?”

  “Thong?”

  Amy sat up straight. “Lace thong.”

  “Lace,” repeated Miranda, swinging around to face forward again. “Never comfortable.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Now you do. Who are they for?”

  Amy sat still and silent.

  Miranda prodded her. “Or did you just want to feel uncomfortable all day?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “I know a lot of people.”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Try me. Does he work at the hotel?”