Mr. Cunningham replied, “It’s easy to forget the origins of our companies. Thank you for reminding us. I’m sure Mr. Johnson would be happy that the allegiance has remained.” Claire radiated confidence. Her never wavering smile successfully hid the contained emotions she successfully compartmentalized away. Mr. Cunningham indicated the man to his left. “Mr. Rawlings, Ms. Nichols, this is our promising new associate Derek Burke.”
Everyone shook hands. Claire evaluated Derek Burke: tall, polished, and polite. He approached Tony with an honest reverence yet with enough self-confidence to indicate he deserved the praise bestowed upon him. There were so many people who blabbered incoherently in Tony’s presence. Claire assessed Tony must also be impressed by Derek’s poise because they conversed longer than Tony usually did with one person. Unfortunately, his attention toward this new associate left Claire, once again, at the disposal of Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham. Their friendly greeting earlier in the waiting room turned to gushing compliments about Claire’s attire and the gala. More incoherent babbling, Claire thought.
Eventually, the next set of attendees made their way to Claire and Tony. When dinner was announced, Claire was relieved beyond words. She’d played her role well -- very well. Even Tony complimented her regarding the Shedis-tics couple. Nevertheless, her body ached from standing in high heels and the stress. The act of sitting was a welcome relief.
At one point, before the speeches, Claire excused herself to visit the ladies room. She expected a warning glance or gesture. Surprisingly, she received neither. All the way to the restroom she considered borrowing someone’s cellphone and calling Harry. The problem was -- she didn’t know his number. She called it multiple times a day. But, the number was programmed into her phone. After racking her memory, she gave up and made her way back to her new assigned seat.
On her way to Tony, she passed the round table where she should have been sitting. Claire noticed three empty seats. It was the only table within the large room with so many vacancies. The Cunninghams, Derek Burke and another couple were politely chatting. Claire moved quickly, to avoid another conversation with Hilary Cunningham.
*****
Sophia believed she’d suffocate if she spent another minute in the beautiful sitting room of the Saint Regis’ Presidential Suite waiting for the mystery buyer. Walking through French doors onto a balcony she observed the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. Although almost the end of May, the evening air was brisk against her exposed skin. Mindlessly she wrapped her arms around her chest and dissected the view, as only an artist can do. The towers glowed more orange than gold, she thought as she as she viewed the illumination from Route One.
She stood motionless at the rail and inhaled the salty air. It wasn’t the same as Provincetown. There was something about Provincetown Harbor which was unique from San Francisco Bay. Nevertheless, closing her eyes and listening to the distant rush of waves, the similarities made her homesick. She glanced at her watch, almost nine thirty.
She and Mr. George had been in this suite both alone and with Mr. Hensley for an hour and a half. Though she’d communicated with Derek regularly, she knew he was upset. He should be, she reasoned. This was ridiculous and rude.
Sophia even felt sorry for Mr. Hensley. The poor man was doing his job. It truly wasn’t his fault his employer was delayed. The first excuse was about traffic on 280. When eight thirty came and went, Mr. Hensley kindly ordered them dinner. At eight forty five they fired up Mr. Hensley’s lap top and virtually viewed Sophia’s art. At nine fifteen Mr. Hensley received a text message and excused himself from the suite.
Now Sophia and Mr. George continued to wait. The night air helped relieve Sophia’s distress. Although she hadn’t been looking forward to Derek’s big gala, she knew how much it meant to him. He’d been anxiously anticipating spending this time with his boss and Mr. Cunningham’s wife. He was also very excited to meet the CEO of Shedistic’s parent company. He’d told Sophia his name and Hilary Cunningham had gone on about a woman named Nichols, but currently the CEO’s name escaped Sophia. More than anything she wanted to be back in that crowded, pretentious ballroom.
“Mrs. Burke, I apologize for this inconvenience.” Mr. George was now on the balcony too.
“I don’t blame you. It’s just that my husband is so close, and I should be with him.”
“Mrs. Burke, if this weren’t important, I wouldn’t have asked you to be here.”
“Do we even know the name of this mysterious buyer?”
Mr. George rubbed his temple. “No, Mr. Hensley is the one I’ve been dealing with.”
They both turned, upon hearing the door to the suite open. Mr. Hensley entered. When it was clear he was alone, they both exhaled and moved to join him within the suite. His voice was more assured. “I cannot adequately express my sincere apologies regarding this horrid meeting. Circumstances beyond anyone’s control have delayed my employer. He would, however, like to offer an olive branch.”