A Famous Affair chapter 2

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I hail a taxi. A friendly-faced man, who funnily looks a little like Eric Morecambe, is leaning towards the rolled down window on his passenger side to talk to me.
"Where are you needing to go, Miss?"
"The Broadway Tower please?" I ask with a broad smile.
"No problem."
Placing my bags into the footwell, I carefully step into the black cab. I feel relieved to be leaving behind the hustle bustle of Paddington. I am so nervous, yet extremely, excited to be meeting Lydia.
I feel around in my handbag for my small vanity mirror to quickly check on my appearance. My naturally light-brown, mid-length hair is straight, yet softly sexy with that little kick at the ends. My pale blue eyes are shining; and thankfully, bag-free and my cheeks look attractively flushed. I just need to reapply my plum lip-gloss, but all in all, I don't look too bad after all that travelling. I carefully trace the lip-gloss around my peachy lips, rubbing my lips together, doing a little pout back at my reflection.
"You'll do, miss." The taxi driver is smiling from his car mirror; as soon as our eyes make contact, he gives me a little wink.
Embarrassed yet flattered, I smile back. "Why, thank you," I coyly reply. After our friendly, but brief conversation, I sit quietly in the back, watching central London pass me by in a busy blur. To say I am just a little excited; is a bit of an understatement!
After a short journey, the jovial taxi driver turns to face me. "Okay miss, here we are." I pay the fare and step out of the taxi, clutching my bags like some kind of comfort blanket.

The Broadway Tower definitely has the wow factor . . . like really WOW!
I have yet to go inside. I just need to take a moment to fully appreciate The Broadway's beauty from the outside. With wide eyes and an open mouth, I soak in the 1930's contemporary architecture; breathtaking in its grand design. After getting my fix of the magnificent view before me, I suck in a deep and calming breath before nervously walking through the main entrance. Once again, my breath is taken away. The main foyer is truly stunning with crisp white walls and ice white, marble floors. There are inviting seating areas with bold, black leather sofas and chairs, while the bar is softly lit, exuding a sultry hue. The main reception desk is a moulded oval, again in white, glossy marble.
I stand in amongst the opulence and beauty, feeling small and unworthy to be in a place so devastatingly beautiful.
I approach the reception desk with almost an air of arrogance but inside, I'm feeling just like an inferior, scared little girl. The lady behind the desk is in her mid-thirties, impeccably dressed in her dark blue blouse and black pencil skirt. Her brassy blonde hair is tied into a low neat bun. She really wouldn't look out of place at Heathrow; she looks just like an air hostess. Smoothing down my posh red dress, I thank God for wearing this beauty!
My beloved dress delicately shows off my curves, and being 50's style, it looks timelessly classic. The outfit is superbly finished off with to-die-for, three-inch stiletto heels in scarlet red. However, a pep talk to my feeling-very-out-of-her-depth-self is still very much needed.
I can do this. I really can do this! Okay, Jessica. You may feel like a complete fish out of water right now, but you, Jessica Neel, are looking shit hot!
The receptionist greets me with a big courteous smile, "May I help you, madam?"
"Hello, my name is Jessica Neel. I've come to check in. My boss booked the room, Lydia Mason?"
"Yes, Mrs. Neel. Miss Mason has, indeed, checked in already," The air-hostess look-a-like stares at the screen for a moment. "I will get your key for you, I will be just a moment." I watch her disappear into a small room. She quickly returns with a key in her willowy hands. "There you are Mrs. Neel, room 17A is on the 2nd floor. Have you stayed at The Broadway before?"
"No, I haven't," I answer. Oh, shit, am I really that obvious as someone who doesn't frequent posh hotels very often? I wonder to myself, desperately trying to make myself appear confident.
The helpful receptionist points with her long arm and statuesque finger. "Well, if you walk to the end of the foyer, you will see the lifts. If you prefer, you can take the stairs which are on the right side of the lifts."
"Thank you, very much." I smile weakly.
"Enjoy your stay, Mrs. Neel."

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