“You’re not being very nice to me. But I’ll forgive you your bad mood this time.” She blows him a kiss on her way out the door.
Sighing, Ian finally exhales, realizing that Jared was right about the houseboat being impossible to secure. He might just have to pull the glass house off the market and move back in there… as long as crazy Alexis is running around. He especially doesn’t want her to get near Ella.
Ella.
He can’t even think about her right now; he’s still too upset. Frustrated beyond belief that he couldn’t just up and fly to Venice, he has to sit here in Portland knowing she’s in that romantic city, possibly with Lucien Phillips. He can only hope that she gets back in time to accompany him to Japan. He checks his phone and sees she called earlier. He’d decided to let her stew for a while since he is so angry, it will do neither of them any good to speak. Let’s see what the silent treatment will net him—it’s better than yelling.
He quickly scans the room, ensuring that everything is in place. What the hell was she doing here? Did Carrie, his new housekeeper, actually let her in without checking with him first? He tended to doubt it. He also doubted that Alexis broke in only to say hello to him—there must have been something she was after. But what?
Chapter 18
I meet up with Gerard when I get to JFK Airport. I wanted to get a flight out of Newark, which would have been much faster but Lucien booked one out of JFK. It took me over an hour to get here from midtown so Gerard beats me there.
He seems like a nice guy—jovial, at least. He’s stocky, about 5’9” and has merry eyes. Dirty blond hair sticks up in short spikes from his big head—everything about him is big, now that I think about it: big jaw, big body, big teeth, big laugh. I like him immediately.
Our flight actually takes off on time, is peacefully uneventful, and we arrive at Marco Polo Airport within minutes of our ETA.
“Ella, have you heard from Ms. St. Sauveur yet?” Gerard asks me in the taxi to our hotel.
“Yes, we’re meeting her later this evening for dinner at her hotel—eight o’clock. That gives us time to check in to our hotel and have a long nap.”
“I need to pick up some things so after we get settled, I’ll head out. I guess you don’t really need me at the dinner meeting, unless we’re taping tonight. Are we?”
“I’m not sure what Ms. St. Sauveur’s schedule is like so I figured we should be prepared for anything… so, yes, you should come to dinner. If she says we can tape in the morning or later, then you’re free to leave. Does that sound acceptable?”
“Yes, Ella, perfectly.”
The hotel Lucien selected is a small European-style affair, luxurious by most standards. The lobby has creamy marble floors and dark wood wainscoting on the walls. The upper part of the walls is painted a creamy beige tone to coordinate with the floor but it’s done in Venetian plaster so it has depth and character. Everything looks brand new—the hotel must have been recently renovated. All the rooms have private baths and are tastefully furnished. Gerard and I part company as soon as we get our room cards, agreeing to meet at 7:15 in the hotel lobby. As soon as I close the door to my room, I plop down my bag and then drop into bed, exhausted. I don’t look at my text messages for I don’t want Ian to upset me. I also shut off the ringer on my phone. I’ll deal with him later when I’m feeling stronger.
We’re to meet Maya St. Sauveur at a rooftop restaurant at a nearby hotel. Gerard and I arrive for our eight o’clock meeting at 7:45 and cannot be seated until the entire party arrives so we stand awkwardly just outside the entrance, near the elevator bank. At exactly eight on the nose, the stainless steel doors slide open and out strides an elegant woman. I know instantly that it’s her.
“Ms. St. Sauveur?”
“Yes. Ella Strong?”
I nod. “And this is Gerard Brolin, our cameraman. Gerard accompanied me in case you’re interested in taping tonight. Can you give me an idea as to your preference?”
“Oh, no, dear. Not tonight. I just thought we’d meet and have dinner. I rather hoped we could do the interview in the late morning tomorrow.”
Her accent is interesting: perfect Queen’s English with some French thrown in as well. “Actually tomorrow morning will be perfect. Gerard?” I look at him. “You’re free to head out to your own pursuits, then.”
“Very good.” He extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. St. Sauveur. I look forward to seeing you again in the morning.”
She nods her regal head, perched on a very long neck. “Thank you. Till tomorrow then.”