On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Seven - "Embrace"

Sarah

 

I was nervous. All through the car ride, I couldn’t stop thinking about what exactly I was going to say. It didn’t help that there was traffic, so the anticipation continued to increase as the car rolled along slowly.

We were supposed to meet at 9.30, but it was past ten and I couldn’t even tell if we were near or not.

“Miss Parks, we’re here,” Ryan – the driver – said, cutting into my thoughts.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when to come get me,” I replied, and got out of the car, feeling a little heady. I should have had a drink or two before I left.

“Sarah?”

I turned and couldn’t help the grin that made its way to my face. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember what I’d been worrying about.

He smiled and walked over, “Hi.”

“Hi Jake,” I replied, letting him pull me into a tight hug.

“Hey,” he breathed, holding me tight.

I stepped back and smiled awkwardly, “You want to go in?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied.

“Sorry I’m so late. The traffic getting here was terrible,” I said, trying to block out my once again racing heart as we walked on into the hotel lobby.

A manager-like person stepped up to us, “Miss Barron, I’m Mac, the manager here. Welcome to the Marriot. It’s a pleasure to have you. Your father’s patronage has been very influential with our customer base.”

I cringed, and covered it up with my plastic grin, “Of course. The pleasure’s all mine. I take it dinner will still be served despite the late hour?”

“Of course! Of course. Please, this way,” he said, leading us towards a set of oak double doors at the back.

“Must be great to be you,” Jake whispered, with a grin.

I smiled uncomfortably. Sometimes, I wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed with my life. As blissful as it sometimes was, other times, it seemed too much like a never-ending charade, with everyone jumping through hoops hoping that I’d go back to my dad with news of their good work.

“Here we are. Jerry mentioned that you wanted the private dining area with no music; is that correct?” Mac asked.

“Maybe a little light music. Nothing special,” I replied, walking over to the single semi-circular booth and sitting on one side as Jake sat on the other.

“Here are your menus and the wine list. May I recommend the Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley?” he asked, as he handed them to us with a flourish.

“Um . . . Jake, what do you want?” I asked.

Mac looked a little surprised, as if he’d only just realized there was another person present.

“Sir, if the white doesn’t appeal to you, we’ve just received a batch of the Egon Muller-Scharzhof from Germany. Priced at five thousand dollars, our guests have not stopped raving about it. It’s our most popular bottle,” Mac said.

“Five thousand dollars?” Jake asked, wide-eyed.

“Um, thanks Mac, we’ll decide,” I replied, “Can we have water to start?”

He nodded, and gestured at a waiter, who glided over with a tray of water, and disappeared before we even acknowledged his presence.

“Can we have the room? I’ll just ring when we’re ready to order,” I said, gesturing at a button in the center of the table.