Powerful (The Driven World) - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,55
meet me.
“No, thank you for organizing the dinner. I’ll see you then.”
Harriet kisses my cheek, giggles, and climbs back inside the car. The driver gets my bag out of the trunk, and I smile at him.
“Thank you for driving them.”
“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Goddess.”
I nod and walk into the hotel. It’s very lavish, and a member of the staff instantly welcomes me. “Welcome to The Langham. How may we be of service?”
Someone must have been looking out for me to have put Harriet in my path. It’s not until now that I realize I’m alone in New York, but unlike the terror that threatened to engulf me on the plane, I’m at ease.
Smiling at the staff member, I say, “Athena Goddess to check-in.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kris
It’s past midnight by the time I land in New York. The book, Lost, is definitely about us. Sure, she changed the names of the people in it and the place, but the language Athena used in the book is us. The way the hero describes her to all his friends as ‘my girl,’ there’s no doubt in my mind. It’s a good read, poignant. The hero realizes he screwed up toward the end of the book and does everything in his power to win the girl, which is exactly what I’m going to do.
I don’t have any luggage, so I walk from the plane to the taxi rank. Before I get into a cab, I check my messages on my cell to see where my assistant has me staying.
Climbing into the first available cab, I say, “Ritz Carlton, please.”
“Holy shit, you’re Kris Livingston.”
Smiling, I nod. “You got me.”
“Wow. Nice to meet you, man. I’ll have you there in no time.”
The cabbie asks me a few questions, and I’m happy to answer them even though I’m wiped. Thinking about Athena and why she would run to this city of all places, I can only assume she must be either furious or not thinking straight.
Even at this early hour of the morning, New York is alive. The streets are filled with tourists and locals alike. When the cabbie stops out the front of the hotel, I pay him and also tip him fifty dollars.
“Oh, wow, thanks, Kris. That’s super nice of you.”
He’s obviously a New Yorker with his thick accent.
“All good. You have a safe night, yeah?”
“Always do.”
As I walk into the hotel, I try Athena’s cell one more time, and it goes straight to voice mail.
“Babe, I need you to call me back. The time doesn’t matter. I’m in New York.” I close my eyes and picture her face. “Athena, call me back.”
As I enter the hotel, the night staff recognizes me, but they are used to famous people or people who like discretion.
“Mr. Livingston, nice to see you. I’m Tyson, if I can do anything to make your stay more pleasurable, please let me know.”
Opening my wallet, I hand over my credit card. “Tyson?” He nods expectantly. “Could you send someone out to buy me some clothes?”
“Certainly, sir. If you would please just write down what you require, we’ll do it immediately.”
“Thank you. Is room service still open?”
“Yes, Mr. Livingston, it’s twenty-four hours.”
I nod, and Tyson hands over my room key and a piece of paper. There are only a few things I need—jeans, a black t-shirt, and underwear. The rest I can get myself after I’ve spoken to Athena. Tyson holds out his hand, and I give him my requests. He glances at it and nods.
“We will add this to your room.”
“Thanks, Tyson, you have a good night.”
I begin to move away from him.
“Mr. Livingston?” I stop and look back. “Do you require these tonight?”
“Nah, man, I’m tired. I’m going to order room service, then sleep. But if they could have it to my room by eight, I’d appreciate it.”
“Very good, sir.”
***
The Ritz Carlton overlooks Central Park. My room is on the twentieth floor where my assistant has booked me a suite. Last night, I barely noticed the view, but this morning as daylight filters in through the windows, it’s beautiful. Picking up my cell, I check my messages, nothing from Athena. There’s a knock at my door. Rolling out of bed, I put on a bathrobe and answer the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Livingston. We have the items you requested.”
Tyson walks in with another staff member, and they put three bags on the coffee table in the living room.
“Thank you.”
“Would you like to make sure they are to your liking?”
Shaking my head, I say, “They’ll