The Devil to Pay -- Part IV

The deli they stopped at was a nice one. Gloria had never eaten there before because she had a tendency to be a little too pragmatic when it came to money. If she didn't need it, she wouldn't buy it. That went for expensive food too, although she could generally afford to eat at delis.

They were sitting at high bar on stools, and Gloria's legs dangled above the ground. She absently swung them back and forth and he was surprised to see how much like a child she looked when she did that. She ordered a pastrami sandwich on whole wheat and he had roast beef on white. He apparently desired more privacy than the bar provided, so when their orders came up, he led her over to a small corner table.

They ate in relative silence. His sandwich was terribly messy, but he was fastidious with his napkin, to such a degree that it was amazing. He ate leisurely, and studied her as he did. She concentrated on her sandwich and tried to ignore his intense gaze, or at least pretend that it didn't bother her.

When he finished his sandwich, he folded his napkin over the wrapper and leaned forward on his elbows, resting his chin on his palms. She couldn't ignore this degree of attention, so she tentatively met his gaze over the remains of her pastrami sandwich. He was watching her intently, and he didn't even offer the smile he generally volunteered with such alacrity.

She looked down at her sandwich again.

"I want to know something," he finally said, after a long silence, "You said you like to take long showers sometimes. When do you like to take them?"

She studied the backs of her hands a moment. She could really lie. Not to him. He'd know, she was certain. And what was the point of lying anyway.

"I take them when I'm feeling depressed. The water is soothing. It makes me feel better sometimes."

He pressed his hands flat on the table and watched her closely, "Did it this time?"

She shook her head so that her hair fell forward into her face, "No, it was missing something this time. It wasn't enough."

She haltingly continued, "I-I-I miss . . ."

He stood up abruptly and cut her off, "Come on, or we'll be late."

She blinked, "Where are we going?"

He smiled again, apparently satisfied, "It's a surprise."

*

They took the subway to one of the plusher districts in the city. She had no idea where they were going, or what they could possibly be late for. She certainly didn't know what business they had in a district where she couldn't even afford to park her non-existent car. After his first mysterious answer, she hadn't pressed him, but she was extremely curious.

The buildings in the area were all skyscrapers, glass and steel. She was slightly uncomfortable in the presence of all the mirrors. She kept close to him and held tight to the umbrella that he'd offered as they departed the subway. She didn't really pay much attention to where they were going, but instead tried to puzzle out his odd behavior at the deli.

Suddenly she realized they were standing in a good-sized lobby, a very expensive looking good-sized lobby. Suddenly she choked quietly because she recognized the elegant scripting on the stationary at the main desk. They were standing in the lobby of the most expensive hotel in the city and he was checking them in.

She tensed all over and tried to think of a rational reason for him to be checking them into an expensive hotel, but could think of none but the obvious. She turned beet red and pulled her body close together, in a natural defensive posture and gripped the handle of the umbrella tightly.

No. He had promised. He had said that he didn't think of her that way . . .

She squeezed her eyes shut, and then suddenly, she felt a warm hand on her arm. She relaxed immediately at the touch, but she was reluctant to open her eyes. A gentle tug at her sleeve persuaded her to and when she did, she was not surprised to see he was lightly smiling.

He led her over to the elevator, but she steeled the courage to ask what was going on, he pressed a flat plastic card into her hand.

She blinked.

"Now go and have a bath. See if the real thing is any better than your substitute. Stay as long as you like. I've booked the room for two days, although I'll expect you home for dinner."

He also handed her an expensive leather wallet.

"And I want you to take a taxi home. I don't like the idea of you riding the subway alone after dark. You never know what might happen. It's best to be safe."

She blinked again as he put her on the elevator.

"Your suite's on the seventh floor. Remember, be home for dinner," he reminded one last time as the doors closed.

*