I slid out of the bed and grabbed my robe. I waited until I saw him disappear into the kitchen and walked out of the suite.
As soon as the door shut, I ran down the hallway—straight to the elevators. I knew Jonathan was staying in the presidential suite—I’d overheard someone mention that at the ball, so I hoped I could catch him before he went to sleep.
I pressed “PS” once I stepped onto the elevator and tried to calm my shaking hands as it moved from floor to floor.
The doors opened and I prepared to run down the hall, but I was greeted by a bellman in an all-white suit. “Good evening Miss. How may I help you?”
“I need to see Jonathan Statham.”
“Do you have an access key for this floor?”
“No...”
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t let you go any further ma’am. This is an access only floor. Perhaps if you called his handler and asked to be placed on the approved visitors list...” His voice trailed off.
“I really need to see him. It’s important.”
“My hands are tied, Miss. I can’t just let anyone beyond that door.” He motioned to the door that hid the rest of the floor from view. “It’s for presidential suite guests and approved visitors only. It’s not up for discussion.”
I broke down in tears. “Please, just...I know you don’t know me at all, but I have to talk to him. It’s a matter of—”
“Would you like me to call him for you?” He looked concerned.
I nodded and he pulled a phone out of his pocket.
“Mr. Statham, this is Mr. Collins. I’m the bellman on your floor and I’m calling because—Yes, my daughter did receive those chocolates you sent yesterday. Thank you very much...Ah, yes I’m calling because I have a woman here to see you. She says it’s important, but we have a strict policy on presidential suite guests...” He looked up at me. “What’s your name Miss?”
“Claire Gracen.”
“Her name is Claire Gracen, Mr. Statham...Yes...Oh, I see...Well, thank you sir. I apologize for interrupting your night. I’ll see you in the morning.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “He said he’s not familiar with you, Miss Gracen. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave now. He’s a very valued guest and I don’t want to upset him any further.”
“He does know me! I’m his—”
“He said he’s never heard of you before, Miss. Those were his words verbatim. Now, please leave before I call security.”
My heart crumbled.
I was speechless. I couldn’t even think. I stepped back onto the elevator and rode it down to the lobby—inspired to get the Benadryl more than ever so I could try to sleep this pain away.
He doesn’t know me? How can he say that? Is he that upset about earlier?
I let more tears fall down my face as I stepped off and headed towards the gift shop. I saw Greg ordering around a group of suited men and rushed over. I blurted, “I need to speak to Jonathan and they won’t let me up to the presidential suite.”
“Excuse me for one minute, gentlemen.” He pulled me away from the group and raised his eyebrow. He reached into his jacket and handed me a handkerchief. “Would you like me to deliver the message for you, Miss Gracen?”
“No, I...It’s a really personal message. Can you take me up there with you? I’m sure if the guard saw me with you he would—”
“He doesn’t want to be bothered by anyone for the remainder of the conference, Miss Gracen. Those were his exact words to me.”
“Please, Greg...I need to—”
“He wants to be alone.” His voice was clipped.
“Please.” I cried. “I know we haven’t been together for three months but he means a lot to me. You have to believe that...Please help me...”
Sighing, he grabbed my hand and led me around the front desk, greeting all of the managers, showing me a private elevator. He hit the top button and the doors glided open immediately.
As the cart rose, he turned to face me. “When you get off, make two lefts and his room will be in front of you. This is the back entrance to his suite, so you’ll have to be quiet or the guard who stands in front of the other elevator will alert me or the hotel’s head security. Understand?”
I nodded and the doors opened seconds later.
“To the left, Miss Gracen.”
I rushed off the elevator and headed for his room.
I stood in front of the door for a few seconds, running my fingers across the golden nameplate that bore his name in newly painted cursive.
I knocked once. No answer.
I knocked twice. Nothing.
I knocked again and again, louder and louder with each try.
“Hold on! Hold on!” A woman’s voice came from the other side of the door. There was some shuffling, and then the door swung open.
“Oh...It’s you.” Stacy Rodriguez stood in front of me wearing a light blue slip with her hair tousled all over her head.
Did he just have sex with her?