birthday and she didn’t talk to me. Why would she waste her last breath on him? I feel a lump form in my throat and I know we need to end this rendezvous. I read her book. I know what he did to her. They weren’t just friends. He used and abused her. Too much money, sex, and drugs. The way he talks, you’d think he actually cared about her. You’d think he wasn’t the man that got off on seeing her mutilated by other men while he sat and watched. I feel bile rising and I want this jackarse out of my sight.
“You need to get your fucking arse out of here. I’m done listening to your bullshit.” He now sits on the floor in his handmade whistle and flute, and for a split second I want to believe that he’s not a monster. As much as I loathe him I want to pretend that Emily loves a good guy. But that second passes and I once again hear my sister’s voice as she narrates his actions, and my heart turns to steel as I hate him even more.
“I’m leaving, but I need you to promise me that you’ll leave my wife alone. I don’t want you contacting her. It’s just not safe for you to be around her. I don’t know what kind of revenge you’re after, but she didn’t know about Isa when we met. If you have words, you know where to find me, but let’s leave the women and children out of this.” Did this cocksucker just say “not safe”?
“Mate, those drugs must be messing with your cognitive ability if you reckon me talking to Emily wouldn’t be safe. I would never hurt her. I’m the one that brought her back home ‘safe’! I would do anything to keep her safe, and if telling her the truth about her dirty husband will help keep her safe, I’ll do that, too.”
He gets up off the floor and goes to fix himself a drink.
“Help yourself,” I say.
Louis turns around and replies, “I always do, Willy-Boy, I always do.” He throws back a shot of whiskey and heads towards the door. “You have until nine AM to evacuate this hotel or security will help throw you out. This time, you happened to walk into my hotel, and I don’t plan on sharing half my bed with you. New York is mine and so is my wife, remember that!”
Without another word, he leaves. “Cheerio, arsehole!” I call after him. Bloody marvelous, now I need to get to the bottom of his threat and I still need to find a way to speak to Emily. She needs to know! There is no way he owns this hotel. I would bloody know if he owned the goddamn Pierre! The fucker is bluffing, just trying to run me out of town. No chance, I’m talking to Emily if it’s the last thing I do.
“Heaven Is A Place On Earth” by Belinda Carlisle
It takes us over an hour to drive less than thirty-five blocks in New York City. Traffic is insane as usual and pulling up to a hotel on 5th Avenue is virtually impossible. The amount of tourists in this city is inconceivable at times. Em’s driver finally lets us off on 61st Street, right in front of the hotel’s main entrance. Security ushers the two of us inside like we own the joint. Emily and Louis are New York royalty and knowing them as just Emily, my best friend, and Louis, the guy who worships at her feet, is sometimes surreal. Seeing the girl you pee in front of on the cover of gossip magazines is still something I need to get used to.
Once we’re inside the hotel, everything happens fast; we don’t go anywhere near the check-in counter and we seamlessly follow a man that leads us to a waiting elevator where we’re whisked off to the penthouse suite at The Pierre hotel. The elevator attendant greets Emily, obviously knowing exactly who she is. Emily introduces me and lets her know I’ll be staying at their apartment for as long as I need. The elevator stops and we walk into a foyer that puts many of the top hotel lobbies in New York to shame. I know that once the mirrored doors open I will step foot into what only a handful of fortunate elites have ever seen. The middle set of doors part for us and it’s hard to