Distress
She was in total distress. The benefit ball at the Plaza was a disaster for her.
All was going well. The most influent people in the country were there, she knew them all, almost, but she could never trust any of them. It was all politics and money. She had the money and influence, but none of that made her happy. It was a life of restrain and protocols, tied to a marriage of convenience, not hers but the family and all the pressure imposed forced her to concede.
Since her father death she became the President of one of the most powerful and successful financial institution in the country. She didn’t want any of that but she didn’t have much of a choice.
The party went in splendor. She fell a little tired and decided to go upstairs to the suite to rest for a while. That ball was going to last long. Everybody was having the fun of their lives making the best of the US10, 000.00 each, given to charity.
She took the elevator to the 6th floor, took off the shoes that were tiring her feet. At the floor, she got off and headed to the room and used her key to get in. She heard voices and laughs. What was happening, she thought. As she entered the living room, she noticed clothes on the floor. The door to the room was partially closed. She went towards the door and quietly opened it.
Nothing in life had prepared her to what she encountered. Lying in bed, Lauren Harben, her best friend, and Geoffrey, her husband, embraced in a sexual frenzy of grunts and moans. They didn’t even notice her presence. She stood there for a short time watching that grotesque scene in disbelief.
She could never suspect that and for the looks, it has been happening for some time due to the total intimacy they were having.
She took her coat from the chair in the living room and left the suite unnoticed, went to the hotel bar, sat at a table in a discrete corner, called the waiter, asked for a drink and stayed there sipping on a few martinis until people started living the hotel.
The party was over.
She for her limousine and asked the driver to drive around town.
The morning was going for some time when she asked him to drop her at a café downtown, in Soho. She gave him instructions to tell her husband not to look for her, her lawyers would contact him, and if he asks why?
-Tell him I went upstairs to the suite last night. That’s all you should tell him, she said.
She bought a newspaper at the corner and remembered that she didn’t enjoy the expensive buffet she paid for and the martinis were not helping at all. She went to the café to have her breakfast.
She had her coffee with French toasts, honey and assorted jams and started to read the papers. In the first page, in big letter, the success of the benefit ball at the Plaza, the night before. She left the newspapers at the table.
The day was cold but not much, then she started walking around Soho, ended up going to Chinatown, had lunch at one of the restaurants, went to the rest room, fixed her makeup, the little she worn and left the restaurant.
It was early afternoon when she got to the corner of Broadway and Canal Street and she decided to take the subway to god knows where.
She took the first train that stopped at the platform.
No seats available. She held firmly the handle as the train left the station, a totally new experience to her, but somewhat pleasant.
Trying to take her mind off the scene of last night, she noticed the young man standing near the other door of the subway car He must’ve got in after her. She didn’t remember seeing him at the station.
She started to analyze him. She was good at that, her father had told her well. Apparently for what had happened at the hotel, not well enough.
The young man should be on his mid twenties, had the hidden sadness of a loner and seemed to be a person of good heart, a real gentleman, leading a simple life and she fell attracted to him instantly. She couldn’t understand what her feelings were doing to her. Maybe because of what she found out the night before, her defenses were weakened and she couldn’t stop looking at him. It was hypnotic.
The train stopped at some station and a double seat next to him emptied and he sat. She was caught staring at him, he noticed. Kind of shy, he was looking at her trying not to be noticed, unsuccessfully.
An impulse made her go towards him asked if she could seat and he politely agreed and made space for her to seat.
Besides a back pack, he was holding a camera.
She started a conversation and discovered he was an amateur photographer, one of her passions. She was so excited she offered herself to go to his place, a total stranger, with the excuse to see his work.
When she walked into that apartment, she didn’t know what to expect.
It was a simple place, but well kept, clean and of good taste and she fell comfortable and safe.
They conversed of his work and she was so curious to know all about the photos he presented. At all times that stranger were a gentile and respectful gentleman. She could not say the same about some of the men she new, friends of her husband, which had given the chance, would jump at her with all teeth.
They had some wine and talked. The time went by.
She looked out the window and saw the evening coming. She had to go, had to face the facts. She decided to stay at another room at the Plaza. It would be impossible for her to enter the townhouse she lived in the Westside. Maybe she should move to the house on the Hamptons. She just didn’t know exactly what to do.
She held his hands. A sad feeling took over her and tears came out. She got a handkerchief from her jacket pocket and dried her tears. He was looking at her. He had such a strong energy coming out of his eyes. He was definitively a very good person and that made her even sadder. She had to leave, didn’t want, but had to go.
She got up and told him she was going. He offered to walk her down, she refused. At the door she kissed him on the cheek and went down.
He asked her name. She turned around and said:
-Julia, its Julia.
She crossed the street, waived at a cab, told the driver to take her to the Plaza and sat back.
Then she realized she didn’t even know his name.
To be continued ...
She was in total distress. The benefit ball at the Plaza was a disaster for her.
All was going well. The most influent people in the country were there, she knew them all, almost, but she could never trust any of them. It was all politics and money. She had the money and influence, but none of that made her happy. It was a life of restrain and protocols, tied to a marriage of convenience, not hers but the family and all the pressure imposed forced her to concede.
Since her father death she became the President of one of the most powerful and successful financial institution in the country. She didn’t want any of that but she didn’t have much of a choice.
The party went in splendor. She fell a little tired and decided to go upstairs to the suite to rest for a while. That ball was going to last long. Everybody was having the fun of their lives making the best of the US10, 000.00 each, given to charity.
She took the elevator to the 6th floor, took off the shoes that were tiring her feet. At the floor, she got off and headed to the room and used her key to get in. She heard voices and laughs. What was happening, she thought. As she entered the living room, she noticed clothes on the floor. The door to the room was partially closed. She went towards the door and quietly opened it.
Nothing in life had prepared her to what she encountered. Lying in bed, Lauren Harben, her best friend, and Geoffrey, her husband, embraced in a sexual frenzy of grunts and moans. They didn’t even notice her presence. She stood there for a short time watching that grotesque scene in disbelief.
She could never suspect that and for the looks, it has been happening for some time due to the total intimacy they were having.
She took her coat from the chair in the living room and left the suite unnoticed, went to the hotel bar, sat at a table in a discrete corner, called the waiter, asked for a drink and stayed there sipping on a few martinis until people started living the hotel.
The party was over.
She for her limousine and asked the driver to drive around town.
The morning was going for some time when she asked him to drop her at a café downtown, in Soho. She gave him instructions to tell her husband not to look for her, her lawyers would contact him, and if he asks why?
-Tell him I went upstairs to the suite last night. That’s all you should tell him, she said.
She bought a newspaper at the corner and remembered that she didn’t enjoy the expensive buffet she paid for and the martinis were not helping at all. She went to the café to have her breakfast.
She had her coffee with French toasts, honey and assorted jams and started to read the papers. In the first page, in big letter, the success of the benefit ball at the Plaza, the night before. She left the newspapers at the table.
The day was cold but not much, then she started walking around Soho, ended up going to Chinatown, had lunch at one of the restaurants, went to the rest room, fixed her makeup, the little she worn and left the restaurant.
It was early afternoon when she got to the corner of Broadway and Canal Street and she decided to take the subway to god knows where.
She took the first train that stopped at the platform.
No seats available. She held firmly the handle as the train left the station, a totally new experience to her, but somewhat pleasant.
Trying to take her mind off the scene of last night, she noticed the young man standing near the other door of the subway car He must’ve got in after her. She didn’t remember seeing him at the station.
She started to analyze him. She was good at that, her father had told her well. Apparently for what had happened at the hotel, not well enough.
The young man should be on his mid twenties, had the hidden sadness of a loner and seemed to be a person of good heart, a real gentleman, leading a simple life and she fell attracted to him instantly. She couldn’t understand what her feelings were doing to her. Maybe because of what she found out the night before, her defenses were weakened and she couldn’t stop looking at him. It was hypnotic.
The train stopped at some station and a double seat next to him emptied and he sat. She was caught staring at him, he noticed. Kind of shy, he was looking at her trying not to be noticed, unsuccessfully.
An impulse made her go towards him asked if she could seat and he politely agreed and made space for her to seat.
Besides a back pack, he was holding a camera.
She started a conversation and discovered he was an amateur photographer, one of her passions. She was so excited she offered herself to go to his place, a total stranger, with the excuse to see his work.
When she walked into that apartment, she didn’t know what to expect.
It was a simple place, but well kept, clean and of good taste and she fell comfortable and safe.
They conversed of his work and she was so curious to know all about the photos he presented. At all times that stranger were a gentile and respectful gentleman. She could not say the same about some of the men she new, friends of her husband, which had given the chance, would jump at her with all teeth.
They had some wine and talked. The time went by.
She looked out the window and saw the evening coming. She had to go, had to face the facts. She decided to stay at another room at the Plaza. It would be impossible for her to enter the townhouse she lived in the Westside. Maybe she should move to the house on the Hamptons. She just didn’t know exactly what to do.
She held his hands. A sad feeling took over her and tears came out. She got a handkerchief from her jacket pocket and dried her tears. He was looking at her. He had such a strong energy coming out of his eyes. He was definitively a very good person and that made her even sadder. She had to leave, didn’t want, but had to go.
She got up and told him she was going. He offered to walk her down, she refused. At the door she kissed him on the cheek and went down.
He asked her name. She turned around and said:
-Julia, its Julia.
She crossed the street, waived at a cab, told the driver to take her to the Plaza and sat back.
Then she realized she didn’t even know his name.
To be continued ...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Post your comments