me of Emily at eighteen trying to stalk Louis before they officially met. I remember her telling me how she would pass his office a few times a day hoping she’d run into him. I even helped pick out the dildo version of Louis back in the good ol’ days.
“Wait, do you think we’re doing the right thing? You know, he’ll think that he’s coming to meet me. Sara, I don’t want him getting angry with you. I don’t exactly know if he’s mentally sound or even dangerous,” she says as the real Emily starts making an appearance. Truthfully, I didn’t even think she’d take it this far. But I’m not worried about Will; I deal with deranged asswipes for a living. From all she’s told me about him, he seems ninety percent saner than most of the men I get paid to deal with.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t even know if he’s here. It’s been what? Over a month! I can’t imagine he would just hang out and wait until you finally decided to call him.”
Emily’s phone rings and we both jump up like the guilty schemers that we are. She looks down and, of course, it’s her parole officer slash husband; it’s like he can smell trouble.
“Let me talk to him, I don’t want him getting worried. Sara, do not answer his text until I get back. Promise me!” she warns me with her version of the look of death. Emily has yet to scare me or anybody else.
“Yeah, sure, I promise. Go stroke your man’s ego and tell him that you’ll let him pollinate you later,” I yell after her as she sticks her tongue out at me and proceeds upstairs to talk to her neurotic husband. Well, he’s crazy, but at least he’s crazy about her. At least she never has to share his craziness with anybody. I’d give anything to have a crazy to call my own.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I look back down at my phone and think nothing will happen if I just answer him a yes—he wants to know if it’s really Emily, so why should we keep him waiting?
-Yes, it’s me.-
His response comes in even faster this time.
-I need to see you. I’m in New York, not too far from you. I’ll meet you anywhere, anytime. I have much to tell you. Don’t believe anything you hear about me. I would never harm you. You don’t know how happy I am to finally be able to talk to you.-
I read his reply five times before I type back
- Can we meet at The Pierre tonight? It’s on 5th Ave between 60th and 61st street. I have a suite reserved and I think it’s better if we meet privately away from the paparazzi or anyone that could recognize me.-
I don’t feel out of line and have no qualms about texting this poor schmuck. Isn’t this what Emily wanted, closure, for me to meet him and get answers?
-I know exactly where it is. What time should I come?-
I do a quick calculation in my head and figure I can get rid of Em by six this evening and be showered, rested, and ready to meet this fool by ten.
-10PM. I’ll leave you a key at reception under the name Jeffery Rossi.-
I’m pleased with my quick thinking; if Louis ever decided to check the guest list seeing Jeff’s name won’t raise any alarms.
-I’ll be there.-
As the adrenaline starts dissipating, I realize that Emily is about to have a shit attack when she finds out I made arrangements to meet Will without her consent. The woman is an anal control freak and that five-minute interaction would’ve taken her two hours at least. I decide that it’s better if I erase my conversation with Will and give her info on a need-to-know basis. I finish erasing all our texts just before she makes it back down the stairs.
“Oh Lord, I just spoke to Louis and he told me that he heard from a friend of his that Will is in New York trying to have Isabella’s book published. He’s upset and he begged me to be careful, and that if Will tries to make any contact whatsoever to avoid him at all costs. Louis is freaking out, Sara. He’s afraid Will may have pictures of me from St. Lucia and that he’ll try to use that against Louis. Oh God, thank goodness we didn’t make any plans to meet him.