Chapter 14
I have to keep pinching myself because I’m here, in the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps – sort of like me, on an eight-hour flight. I didn’t get a wink. I think I was too excited.
I’m in the back of a car with Jordan, the one that is taking us from the airport to the hotel. I’m not saying it’s swanky, but the driver is wearing a hat.
We’re currently crawling through the thick Manhattan traffic but I’m happy to take it slow, to take in the sights. Outside the window, it’s all yellow cabs, steam coming up from grates, towering skyscrapers – exactly as I imagined it.
It’s December so it is cold, like it is back home, but somehow the novelty of being here makes it seem not so miserable.
Christmas is coming, so everywhere looks so festive.
I feel like I could be in a Hallmark Christmas movie right now – let me out of the car, so I can go outside and have my meet-cute with a hot local.
‘Is this your first time?’ Jordan asks.
‘What?’ I reply.
‘In New York,’ he clarifies with a smile.
‘Oh.’ I laugh, feeling my cheeks warm. I wonder if I’m being a dork. ‘Yes. But I’ve watched a lot of Sex and the City , so I feel like I pretty much know my way around.’
He raises a brow, clearly amused.
‘I haven’t seen it,’ he replies. ‘But I’m sure it is a very accurate representation of the geography.’
‘I already feel like I’m in it,’ I say, dreamily. ‘Don’t be surprised if I go full Carrie while we’re here.’
‘That wouldn’t surprise me at all, because I don’t know who that is,’ he replies. ‘Though the only Carrie I know is from that horror film.’
‘I’ve probably got form for both,’ I joke.
He laughs again, properly this time, and I can’t help but smile. He’s hard not to like – until I remember the things Paige told me about him. I need to not like him, ideally, because it will make it easier to sneak around behind his back without feeling so guilty.
The car turns off Central Park West and slows in front of a beautiful old hotel – The Van Doren, with its timeless stonework and luxury vibes. It overlooks the park – it doesn’t get more Hallmark than that, does it?
A doorman in a burgundy coat and hat opens the car door for me, and the moment I step out, the cold nips at my nose like it’s mad at me.
I wrap my coat a little tighter and glance up at the building.
Boy, it is big. Obviously we have tall buildings in London but, here, it’s different. Everything just feels so… big.
The second we step inside the lobby, it’s like being wrapped in a blanket, the revolving door doing the most to keep the chill outside. Now that I think about it, that’s the first time I’ve used a revolving door since Paris. I’m glad I didn’t realise beforehand, or I would have overthought it.
The marble floor is polished, the gold fixings are gleaming, and the Christmas tree might be the biggest one I’ve ever seen in my life. It stands tall, allowing the spiral staircase to wrap around it, and it seems to go up and up and up.
Jordan handles the check-in, chatting easily with the concierge while I hover by the tree, unable to resist snapping photos already.
Jordan joins me, followed by a hotel employee pushing a golden trolley. He loads our bags onto it before escorting us to the lift.
‘So, romantic getaway?’ he asks, pressing the lift button, in an attempt to make small talk with us while he shows us to our rooms.
I open my mouth, then close it again. I don’t know what to say.
‘Probably not,’ Jordan replies, beating me to it. ‘She’s my colleague. We’re here on business.’
‘Oh, my bad, sorry,’ the man replies.
‘Not a problem,’ Jordan reassures him.
Colleague, that’s interesting. Not assistant. Not employee. I don’t know what it means, it’s just… yeah… interesting. Like we’re equals.
The lift doors open and we step out into the corridor.
I still can’t believe I’m here, with Jordan, doing what I’m doing.
I mean, who do I think I am? I know who Paige thinks I am, some kind of super sleuth.
A sneaky tactical operator – probably a master of disguise.
I mean, she must, to have so much faith in me.
Perhaps I’m not as crap at job interviews as I thought.
I clearly impressed her. Then again, it wasn’t doing the interviews I was struggling with, it was getting them in the first place.
I still have no idea how I’m going to do this.
I haven’t been more than a matter of feet away from Jordan since he boarded the plane, but the contract must be tucked away in his bag somewhere, just like the one Paige gave me is tucked away in mine.
Really what I need him to do is fall asleep, in an armchair, with his hand ever so lightly gripping it, so I can sneak in and swap it, without waking him, like I’m in an old TV show.
Like it’s the perfect crime. He’s not going to carry it around with him, though, is he?
I suppose I should be grateful that they’re dealing in physical copies or contracts and not digital ones, because I am without a doubt a worse hacker than I am a private investigator, and I’m clearly a terrible, terrible private investigator.
‘Here we are,’ the hotel employee announces, unlocking a door. He steps aside to let Jordan by. ‘You too, ma’am,’ he prompts me.
‘Oh, right, okay,’ I reply.
Christ, tell me we’re not sharing a room. Sure, it would make finding and swapping the contract much easier, but I cannot share a room with this man. Oh, God. And there’s only one bed – a big one, but only one nonetheless. This can’t be happening.
‘We’re supposed to have two rooms,’ Jordan points out – clearly he doesn’t want to share a room with me either.
‘Yes, of course,’ the man replies. ‘Two rooms with an adjoining door. Right here.’
The hotel employee reaches out towards a door I hadn’t noticed and unlocks it.
‘Ma’am, your room is through here,’ he tells me.
‘Why do we have adjoining rooms?’ Jordan asks him.
‘That’s what was booked, sir,’ the employee tells him.
‘Interesting,’ Jordan says. ‘She can’t have meant to do that.’
We both look to him.
‘Sorry, just thinking out loud,’ Jordan replies. ‘So, it locks, right?’
‘Yes, sir, it locks,’ the man tells him. ‘It’s basically two separate rooms, with separate bathrooms, phones and so on. The door locks on both sides.’
‘Well, that’s okay then,’ Jordan tells him. ‘Thanks. Here, I have your tip.’
As Jordan pays the man for his help I saunter into my own room. An adjoining door, that’s handy. Getting back through it though, that might be a problem.
I don’t know why I was expecting my own room to be less spectacular than Jordan’s.
They are next door to each other. Maybe it was the adjoining door that threw me, like this might be a small connected room for the help or the kids.
But no, it is exactly the same as Jordan’s.
Just as big, as luxurious – and it’s all mine.
This place is nice – really nice. Easily the nicest place I’ve ever stayed in.
I dread to think how much it costs, and how much the first-class plane ticket cost, and I’m well aware I’m only getting such special treatment because this is how Jordan does things, and Paige wants me on Jordan, as much as I possibly can be.
I shouldn’t get used to it… I could though. I really could.
It’s a big, bright and spacious room. So light and airy, but super cosy too.
I can’t believe I’m going to have this big bed to myself – you could easily fit four of me in there (but three more of myself wouldn’t be my first choice of bedmates.
Having my own voice in my head, once, is more than enough).
I walk over to the window, slowly, allowing the view to reveal itself a bit at a time. I pull the heavy curtains all the way back, exposing the whole window, revealing that view – Central Park.
We’re on the Upper West Side and, from way up here, you can see everything.
It’s so strange, the way the park stretches out, so flat and so massive, in the middle of the city.
The trees are bare, having dropped their leaves for the winter, but it makes the scene no less beautiful.
I can see so many people, all buzzing around, seeming so busy, probably working, Christmas shopping, sightseeing.
I let out a long, slow breath. It’s bizarrely relaxing, watching the world go by through the glass – sort of like the chilled-out feeling you get when you visit an aquarium.
So much to see, so much beauty, but nothing really happening.
Just the slow and varied passage of time.
Something different to see wherever you look, but nothing notable to pay too much attention to.
This really is the holiday of my dreams – except it’s not a holiday, is it?
There’s so much I want to do, so many places I want to go, and so much I want to eat.
But I can’t, I have to stay hot on Jordan’s heels, hanging around him like a bad smell, to be ready to make the swap whenever the opportunity arises.
I hear a knock. Not on the door, though. On the wall.
‘Hello,’ Jordan says, poking his head through our shared door.
‘Hello,’ I reply, making my way over to him, casually, like I own the place.
‘I’m sorry about… this.’ He nods towards the doorway between us. ‘It must’ve been booked by mistake. Paige wouldn’t put you in such an awkward position on purpose.’
Except she absolutely would. In fact, she’s counting on it.
Still, I smile, like I don’t know any better.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I insist.
‘It locks on both sides,’ he says, fiddling with the latch to demonstrate. ‘So there’s no way either of us can open it without the other person unlocking their door too. It’s basically two separate rooms, in practice. If we keep it shut.’
‘Great,’ I reply. ‘Unless of course you need me for anything…’
He raises an eyebrow.
‘For working in the middle of the night?’ He laughs. ‘I think I’ll manage – but thank you. If we had an employee of the month, you would be well on your way.’
He’s definitely mocking me.
‘I’ll leave you to settle in then,’ he says, backing away.
‘Okay,’ I reply. ‘See you later.’
He closes the door between us. Then I hear the distinct, purposeful sound of it locking on his side. He really doesn’t want this door opening.
I’m coming across as too keen. Too eager to please. I’m probably giving him the ick, by seeming so try-hard.
If Paige thought an adjoining door was going to make this easier – help me to get closer to him, to worm my way into his trust and then his room – she is seriously mistaken.
I lean against the door. Oh, yeah, that is solid.
That’s not opening for anyone, unless they open it for me.
It’s sort of like… vampires, I guess? They can’t come in on their own, you have to invite them in.
Only then can they cross the threshold and bite your neck.
Not that I’m planning on biting Jordan’s neck, although I’m not exactly opposed to the idea, in concept.
I need to confess something, but we have to keep this between us, because I’m ever so slightly embarrassed by it.
I haven’t had sex with anyone since Ben – I haven’t had a date go well enough – and it’s building itself up to be a big deal in my head.
You can’t forget how to have sex, can you?
Or, like, your body can’t shut up shop, because it thinks you went sexually bankrupt?
I’d say I was asking for a friend but at this point we both know I’m talking about myself.
I’m starting to worry I might be allergic to doing the deed, because I seem to find any reason to be put off from going to bed with anyone, and because sometimes I’m so uncomfortable about it I use phrases like ‘doing the deed’.
If my ick alarm could go off for myself, I’d probably be deaf by now.
Anyway, I think it’s affecting my brain, firing off signals when I’m around attractive men like Jordan for too long, like my body is asking: why aren’t we pouncing on him? Oh, the audacity of my body, to think it can simply demand whoever it wants.
I’m only here to screw Jordan in one way: sneaking into his room, swapping out the contract, restoring balance, making sure he has no leverage over Paige.
This is going to be so, so much harder than I thought.