I settled myself into the beautiful, well-appointed living room and grabbed my bag. I dug out my cellular phone and put in a quick call to Trip’s publicist, letting her know my room number, and crossing my fingers while I heard her rustle through a sheaf of paper. I exhaled when she gave me the first appointment time following the junket for the half-hour between 12:30 and 1:00, only one short hour from then.
I set up my recently acquired digital tape recorder on the coffee table and took a seat in one of the blue plush chairs next to it. I reminded myself not to fidget as I became aware of my growling stomach. I didn’t think I had enough time to order room service, and besides, I was already pushing the limits of my company card by being in a room in the first place. I thought that I sure could have gone for one of those complimentary doughnuts right about then. I rifled through my purse and managed to come up with a flattened and crumbled granola bar, which I scarfed down without any semblance of grace.
I had to check my teeth in the bathroom mirror, so I used the opportunity to pee and then readjusted my entire outfit and fixed my hair. Again.
I sat back down in the chair and checked the time.
Damn. Still had half an hour to wait.
I reviewed my notecards, found a decent music station on the TV, rigged the door to stay open a crack, peed again and went through my outfit adjustment/hair touchup for only the millionth time that morning. Then I started to wonder what was in the minibar. I took a quick peek in the fridge, but decided against indulging in a drink, even though my nerves were pretty well shot.
I still had some time to kill, wondering if movie stars actually held true to their schedules, when the room phone rang loudly, startling me enough that I actually jumped.
It was Trip’s publicist on the other end, letting me know that they were on their way over to my suite.
I hung up the phone and ignored the lurching in my stomach, trying to acquire my long lost sense of cool. Get ahold of yourself, Warren.
I took a deep, steadying breath and tried to remain calm. But my zen ritual was interrupted by a knock on the door, before it was whisked open by a pretty and efficient-looking Sandy Carron, holding a clipboard and wearing a bluetooth headset.
“Hellooo!” she called out as she scurried into the room. She came right over to me with an outstretched hand leading her way. I always found it strange when two women shook hands. It seemed like a necessary act in a roomful of men, but when it was just two ladies, a kiss on the cheek almost seemed more appropriate.
I got up from my chair to greet her as she stated, “Ms. Warren from Now! Magazine. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Sandy Carron.”
I shook her hand and couldn’t help but peek over her shoulder for Trip. Sandy definitely caught my wandering eyes, but was nice enough not to call me out for it. I guessed she was used to the many females coming and going through Trip’s life who made complete cakes out of themselves on a regular basis.
“Mr. Wiley is just finishing up the junket. He’ll be in momentarily. Can I get you anything? Would you care for some coffee or a cold drink? Something to eat, perhaps?”
Oh, right. Like after waiting a whole hour, I was going to risk getting food caught in my teeth or get busted inhaling a bacon cheeseburger at the zero hour with Trip Wiley on his way into the room.
“No, thank you.”
She gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “Well, I’m going to have some bottled water sent over, just in case Mr. Wiley decides he wants some, if that’s all right.” When I didn’t protest, she spoke into her headset. “Hunter, could you bring some water to forty-eight-sixteen? Great, thanks.”
Sandy started to go over the protocol for the interview when a call interrupted her instructions. A hand went to her headset and she said, “Okay, wonderful. I’ll be right there.” She turned her attentions back to me and said, “Mr. Wiley is ready for you now. I’m just going to pop down the hall and escort him here.”
Just then, Hunter (Trip’s assistant’s assistant, apparently) came in with an ice bucket filled with four bottles of some kind of water I’d never seen before, and Sandy offered on her way out the door, “Please feel free to help yourself. I’ll be back in just a moment.”
Sandy the Whirling Dervish was gone, taking Hunter the Assistant’s Assistant with her and leaving me alone in my room once again. I decided to bust open one of the bottles of VOSS water, which was ice cold and would undoubtedly have me racing for the bathroom all over again. But I was grateful to have something new in the room to occupy myself during my wait.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Within minutes, I could hear voices coming down the hall and my stomach did an anxious somersault. Before I knew it, Sandy was back at my door, holding it open for her charge...
...and there was Trip, once again, walking back into my life.
Chapter 9
SKIPPED PARTS