Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I spent last night in my house. There was no point in going to Anthony’s since he wasn’t there. I arrive at work bright and early to find Trevor waiting for me by the elevators.
“So, how did the meeting go with Roxy?” He looks nervous, but it’s not like I’d stop liking him if I didn’t like her.
“Great, she’s in like Flynn.” I snap my fingers with my statement.
“I knew you’d like her. She’s so much fun. A little on the wild side, but I think she’s still rebelling against her parents.”
“Yes, she said something about pissing them off. I like her a lot. I think she is moving some of her stuff in today.” I shrug my shoulders, not sure if that’s the case. She has a key and will come and go as she pleases.
“Nice. I came out to meet you because I wanted to show you the number of responses we’ve received. You sent out seven hundred invites, and we’ve had four hundred and thirty-five ‘yes’ responses. These are all couples or parties of two. This is going to be huge! Is there anything I can do to help you?” The idea has taken off. Many people are looking forward to reliving their prom. Who would’ve thought?
“No, I need to get through today. I have a meeting at noon with the reporter from the Times . That should be fun.” False humor strains my voice. “I also have to leave early today because I have a medical appointment. However, I think I have it all under control.”
We walk into Ahz and back to where the offices are located. I no longer have to share a space with Kat. I have my little windowless box in the corner of the first floor. It’s not much, but it’s mine, and I love it. I toss my jacket and bag under my desk and check my voicemail.
The first message is from Anthony, wishing me a good day. I replay it twice to hear his voice. The second message is from the vendor producing my decorations for the prom. Everything is being shipped today. The last message is from Tom Wakefield. He’s the reporter for the Times and wanted to confirm our noon appointment.
I pick up the phone and call Kat.
“Hello, this is Katarina,” she answers in a sweet voice.
“Hey, Kat. It’s Em. Can you come and see me?”
“Sure, I’ll be right down.”
Her office is at the opposite end of the corridor. I imagine our men planned it that way so we would get some work done. I hear her heels clicking along the tile floor. It doesn’t take her long to make her way down to my space.
“What’s up?” She bounces into my room and plants herself in the chair in front of my desk. She always seems to be happy these days, and her smile is contagious.
“I wanted to let you know I rented your room to the girl from Trax. You still have some things in the closet. Do you want me to box them up for you?” I raise my eyes in question. Does she even remember the box?
“There shouldn’t be much. Just a few sweaters, and I think there’s a box of college books in the corner.” She thinks the box in the corner is filled with college books. That’s funny.
“Funny you should mention the box. I picked it up, and its contents spilled all over the floor. Imagine my surprise when three dildos, two vibrators, a set of handcuffs, and a flogger came falling out.” I stare at her and wait for her reply.
Her cheerful face goes from smiling to jaw-dropping dismay. I watch as the blood rushes from her lower extremities directly to her face. She opens and closes her mouth several times before she talks. “Holy smokes. That was our book club box. I thought I grabbed it when I packed my stuff. I honestly thought the box in the closet was filled with textbooks. How embarrassing. Damon had bought props just in case we wanted to try some things in the book. Oh, shit,” she gasps. I watch as the realization of what I’m telling her finally sets in.
“No big deal. I just wanted you to know that Roxy would only take the room if it included the toys.” I try to give her a straight-faced look, but I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my lips. “Just kidding. I mean, the stuff fell out, and she mentioned keeping it, but she wanted the room, regardless. You’d like her.”
“I’m mortified. What did you do with the stuff? I hope you tossed it.”
“Never! How could I throw all that inspiration away? It’s in my trunk. I was going to bring it in and display them in a tidy row on your desk.” It gives me great pleasure to make Kat squirm.
“Thank God you’re feeling generous today. Things must be going better with Anthony.” She tries to dodge the subject by redirecting everything to me.
“We’re working through it. He’s in Dallas, so we’re communicating through phone calls. He needs to get his jealous streak under control, and I need to stop reverting to that twelve-year-old girl.”
“Have you ever asked him about his past relationships? Maybe he has some skeletons in his closet, too.” Kat looks around the room. “I’d love to stay here and discuss sex toys and boyfriends, but I have stuff to do, girlfriend.” She lifts herself to a standing position, turns, and walks out my door.
I never really considered he might have some old wounds that haven’t healed. It’s worth asking him.
I spend the rest of the morning organizing the prom and looking through the guest list. We are going to need a lot of spiked punch.
At eleven forty-five, I walk to the front entrance of Ahz to meet with Mr. Wakefield. I lean against the wall and shoot Anthony a text message.
I am waiting for the reporter to arrive. What are you up to?
Meetings. Good luck today.
Thanks. Is everything okay?
Yes. Just working, I’ll talk to you later. I love you!
Okay, I love you too.
“Are you Emma?” the blond-haired man asks. “I recognize you from your photos.”
My photos? That can’t be a good thing. My picture has been taken many times, but the most recent was at the food and wine festival. This has to be the reporter. “Are you the reporter from the Times ?” I ask.
“I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Tom.” He offers me his hand. I give him a gentle shake before I open the door to Anthony Haywood’s restaurant.
“I’m Emma. Welcome to Ahz. I thought we would have some lunch, and then we can take a tour. How does that sound?” I look over my shoulder as I lead him to our reserved table. He smiles brightly as he takes in the restaurant.
“Absolutely perfect.”
“Have you ever dined here?” I’m pretty sure he hasn’t, but it’s always good not to assume anything .
“No, this will be the first time.” His eyes take in the warm atmosphere. The restaurant is not busy, so that he can see it clearly without the distraction of a crowd.
“Well, then you’re in for a treat.” We take our seats, and I tell him about Anthony Haywood’s. “The restaurant has a standard menu, but the chef’s fresh choices are offered as well. I’d opt for one of those. They’re always amazing. They purchase everything from the daily menu fresh that morning.”
We both select our meals, and I settle in for the inquisition.
“First, I want to make sure you know everything we talk about this afternoon is on the record. Do you understand?” He puts a tape recorder on the table and presses record. He pulls a small notepad and paper from his jacket and places it next to his water glass.
“Yes, I know.” My heart races, and I figure it will be tough. It’s my first time representing Ahz, and I want to do a good job. I look at him expectantly.
“Let’s get started. Ahz and its half-owner Anthony Haywood have received more bad press lately. He is featured in several pictures that were recently taken at the Los Angeles Food and Wine Festival. Rumor has it he was defending your honor. Is this true?”
“I have no comment about Mr. Haywood’s personal life. Contact Mr. Haywood if you want to know anything about his life outside of Ahz.” He’s coming out with his guns blazing.
He places a few newspaper articles in front of me. The first one has the headline “She’s a Whore!” written across the top. “This picture tells a story, Ms. Lloyd. It shows one of the leading food critics out cold after your boyfriend decked him, and you have no comment?”
“Mr. Wakefield, I invited you to talk about the accusations that have been thrown at Ahz. Anything beyond that is off-limits.” I shake my head back and forth. It’s a natural reaction for me when I think someone is an idiot.
“Nothing is off-limits when it comes to the news, Ms. Lloyd.” Just as he asks another question, our salads come. We spend a few minutes eating before he continues.
He talks with his mouth partially full. I can see the chicken from his salad move around inside his cheeks. “My researchers couldn’t dig up anything official yet, but word has it you are an escort for hire.” He swallows and then takes a drink of water to wash it down. “You’re a stunningly beautiful woman. I can see how you could make a lot of money doing that.”
What a jerk. I shake my head. “I work as the PR representative for Ahz, Mr. Wakefield. Shall we talk about the current allegations, or would you rather eat lunch and take a tour?”
He takes a minute to look at me and then jots something on his notepad. His writing is chicken scratch. I can’t decipher a single letter. “The car that plowed through the crowd at the Nokia Theater had a nineteen-year-old driver with a blood-alcohol level of .21. When they pulled the driver from the car, she sported a stamp from the clubs at Ahz.”
“Yes, that seems to be the consensus. Is there a question, or are you reminding me of the facts?” I’m trying to be professional and stick to the facts, but he has a callous, arrogant attitude, and I don’t like him.
“Is it a regular practice to allow underage kids to drink at Ahz?”
“We follow all state and local guidelines concerning drinking age.”
“Isn’t it risky to have Eighteen and Overnights ?” He picks up his pen and jots down a note. I wonder if he does this to break my concentration.
“ Eighteen and Overnights are becoming a club standard, Mr. Wakefield.” His question is one I’ve asked myself repeatedly.
“Please call me Tom. Regardless of the industry standard, an incident like this can put an entire brand out of business.”
“I believe the police are investigating the allegations, Tom. Additionally, Ahz has hired an independent investigator to look into the accusations. Do I have to remind you that no one affiliated with Ahz has been charged with any crime?” I roll my neck, trying to get the kinks out.
Tom wipes his mouth with his napkin and places it on his plate. “That was a great chicken salad. I’ve never had one that was quite as satisfying.” He pushes his plate to the side and looks at me. “Clearly, you and Mr. Haywood have an open relationship. Our partners in Dallas have been checking up on Mr. Haywood since he arrived yesterday. He obviously has a type.” He stares at me; it’s as if he’s baiting me and waiting for my reaction.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Tom. Would you like to clarify?” I look at him like he has two heads.
“I always say a picture speaks louder than words.” He reaches into his pocket and draws out a picture of Anthony escorting an attractive redhead into one of his restaurants. His hand is resting intimately on the small of her back. I’m left speechless.
“Are you ready to take the tour, Mr. Wakefield?” I have to get up and move. My eyes keep drifting to the picture he left in front of me. Who the hell is that girl?
“I have caught you off guard. That was not my intention. I apologize.”
“You were trying to knock me off balance. So what? Maybe I’ll get angry and divulge some information that would give you a story. I’m sorry to disappoint you. Whatever Mr. Haywood does in his spare time is his business; we’re not married. I told you before; if you have personal questions to ask about Mr. Haywood, you should set up an interview with him. Would you like his assistant’s number? I can get it for you before you leave. Shall we go?” I bet my face is the same color as my hair. This man gets under my skin.
I spend the next hour walking him through the club and show him the ID scanners and how every guest who enters gets a stamp. They scan the stamp at the bar, and it tells the server if the customer can order alcohol or not. The bar light flashes red if the stamp is an under twenty-one patron. They can order only one drink per person at a time. It’s not a foolproof plan, but it is effective, or it has been in the past. Damon has been using this technology for years in his other clubs.
When we arrive at the ground level, I usher him to the door.
“This ends our tour. Do you have any other questions?”
“No, I’m impressed with the club and your security measures. I guess we’ll have to see what the police end up finding.”
“Yes, I think they’re almost finished with the investigation.” I take my business card out of my pocket and hand it to him. “Please contact me if you have additional questions.”
He takes the card from my hand and holds on too long, so I yank it back from him.
“You are a beautiful woman, Emma. It was my pleasure meeting you.”
Ew. I wish I could say the same. “Take care.” I turn abruptly and head straight for my office. I have about thirty minutes before I’m expected to be at Dr. Lydell’s.