A Famous Affair

A Famous Affair chapter 5

After a wonderful sushi dinner and seeing the amazing show, Wicked, Lydia and I are both in high spirits when we reach The Broadway Tower. This grand old place looks even more stunning under a night sky. The delicate lighting, subtly highlight its amazing architecture to those who pass by.
As we walk up to the reception, Lydia is looking at her watch. "It's nearly eleven, I know, but do you fancy a quick drink in the bar before we head up to our room, Jess? . . . My head is still at the musical, darling."
"I don't think I could sleep even if I tried, Lydia, so yes, I'd love a nightcap . . . that's if the bar is still open of course?"
"Let's find out." Lydia smiles before turning on her heels towards the reception desk. We both wait for the impeccably dressed curvaceous brunette who is dealing with a guy on the far side of the reception desk. She greets us with an incredibly infectious smile as she walks towards us; with the whitest teeth I have ever seen. I think to myself, if I had teeth that bloody white, I'd be smiling like that, too.
"Evening, ladies, how can I help?" the receptionist asks.
"Could you tell us whether the bar is still open please?" Lydia asks politely.
"It is . . . are you staying here at The Broadway, madam?"
"Indeed we are . . . my name is Lydia Mason and this is Jessica Neel." Lydia's hand gestures to her right, to where I am standing.
After a few taps on the computer, the smiley brunette and her ice white teeth, gets up, and disappears into a side room. Confused, both Lydia and I shrug; silently questioning what the hell is going on. When the smiley brunette comes back out, the top view of her has almost completely disappeared; replaced by the biggest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen. She looks funnily like a life-size vase with legs. The bouquet is full of the deepest red roses, shiny green foliage with delicate buds of pretty gypsophila, all wrapped in ruby red organza with gold thread. Jake Carter sure has it bad for you, Lydia, I think to my rather envious self.
"Mrs. Neel, these are for you." The curvy brunette enthusiastically smiles, even though she is obviously struggling to carry the beautifully large bouquet.
"Me?" I ask in complete surprise.
"Jessica darling, you need to go away more often if that is how much Shawn misses you,"Lydia chuckles.
I'm busily searching for a card on the bouquet; I find it pinned to the top of the organza. I quickly open the envelope. In handwritten black pen the words read:

From the man who has everything but wants the one thing he can't have.
JR xxx

Fuck! JR . . . could that mean, Jonny Riley? I feel giddy, my heart is pounding and I feel sick with sweaty palms. I must look shocked as Lydia puts a comforting arm around me.
"Jess, darling, what is it? What does it say?" Lydia has a tinge of panic in her voice; she pulls me to her, gently rubbing my arm.
"These aren't from Shawn, Lydia." I look down at my feet.
"Who are they from then?" she questions.
"You will think I am mad and delusional if I tell you," I whisper.
"Tell me," Lydia presses for an answer.
"I think they're from Jonny Riley," I confess, showing her the card.
Lydia quickly reads the words then gasps really loudly. "Shit, Jess, really?" Her eyes are darting from one side of the room to the other. She gulps hard and that brow of hers is arched to the max. "I think we need to sit down and get that bloody drink. I want to hear everything." Lydia takes my hand.
"Wait, these flowers need to be put up into our room, Lydia." Worried, I look across at the brunette behind the desk.
"No problem, Mrs. Neel. I'll ensure they are taken to your room." She broadly smiles.
"Thank you so much." In embarrassed haste, I join Lydia.

I am seated in the hotel bar, thinking about the flowers. As beautiful as they are, what does it all mean? The words he has written, "from the man who has everything but wants the one thing he can't have," run through my mind on a continuous loop. Am I the one thing he can't have? That's right. Damn right I am, Mr. Big Shot Riley. I am married for Christ's sake; no gorgeous bunch of flowers is ever going to change that! Shawn is my husband whom I love very, very much!
So, WHY WHY WHY can't I get Jonny BLOODY Riley out of my head?
Lydia returns with two large white wines. She still looks slightly shocked about the flowers. "So Jessica, what the hell is this all about?"
"I really don't know Lydia . . . I honestly don't. This can't be happening, can it?" I ask in a cracking voice.
"But it is, darling; it bloody well is," Lydia shakily replies.
"I saw him when I was waiting for you earlier today, you know? He asked me whether I would have a drink with him. Of course, I turned him down, telling him I was married. He told me how lucky my husband was and that was it." I am stroking the cold glass, making patterns with the condensation, which has formed all over it.
"Now he has sent you the biggest bouquet ever! Shit, Jess, this is crazy."
"I know, Lydia. The thing is . . . I feel so guilty," I admit.
"Why?"
"Because part of me is flattered, elated, excited . . . tempted, even. I have never even looked at another man or wanted another man, but with him. I feel different and that makes me feel shit, Lydia."
"So, you do find yourself attracted to him, then?" Lydia lowers her chin, her expression deadly serious. I'm unable to answer her. Instead, I continue to stroke the curve of my glass. "You are feeling guilty, Jessica . . . because you are feeling something to feel guilty about," she adds without emotion.
"Am I attracted to him, Lydia, or the persona whom I and thousands of other women fantasise about on the screen?"
"Who gives a flying fuck, darling? I fantasise about a lot of celebs, but none of them are sending me bloody flowers." Lydia tries to lighten the mood with her honest wit. She always manages to make me feel better somehow.
I sigh loudly, "The sooner I get home, the better. Then I can forget all about Jonny Riley."
"So, you're not going to do anything, then?" asks Lydia.
"Like what?" I wonder.
"At least thank him for the flowers, maybe?" Lydia says with an inquisitive lilt in her voice.
"I will leave a note for him at reception before we leave, but that is all."
Lydia leans back in her chair, slowly crossing her legs. "Well. You are a stronger woman than I, Jessica Neel. If I had the gorgeous Jonny Riley after me, married or not, I don't think I could ever resist; hence, why I'll never marry. You never know when opportunity knocks." Lydia proudly takes a sip of her drink by way of a small treat to herself for standing by her misguided morals.
"So, what about you and the handsome Jake Carter?" I steer the conversation in another direction.
"He's adorable, isn't he? But I'll never marry. Jess, you and I both know that," responds Lydia.
"You two have a real connection though?"
She nods with an amorous smile. "Yes, we do. In fact, we are meeting up tomorrow to spend the whole day together. Although, he makes my stomach go funny every time I see him, it's early days. We will just have to see where it goes, but whatever happens, I plan to enjoy it, darling." Lydia's eyes light up when she talks about Jake Carter. Maybe not even Lydia herself knows, yet, just how deep her feelings truly run for him, but I can tell she cares a lot. Never have I seen her turn to jelly with a man. The problem Lydia has is her real fear of commitment; she loves the idea of being in love, but is too scared to take that final step towards it.
"Well, I for one shall definitely be watching this space." I show a playful pout at Lydia to which she throws her head back and laughs. She brings her head down still laughing, but as she picks up her glass of wine her face suddenly drops. She grabs my hand and starts to whisper across the table.
"Don't look behind you, but he is here." Her eyes are fixed forward as she continues to take a tiny sip from her glass.
"Oh, my God, Lydia, what do I do?" I beg.
"Just relax, darling. He's with a huge guy, I mean a really huge guy."
"That's his bodyguard, Beef," I tell her.
"He appears to be chatting to the receptionist we spoke to." Lydia's eyes are focused on what Jonny Riley is doing in reception. Panic stricken, I sit there, just wanting to run and hide. I'm too scared to face him. I want to get to the safety of my room, as I fear my feelings for Jonny Riley leave me unsafe in his company.
"Uh . . . oh . . . oh . . . ohhhh, my God, he's looking over here, Jess. He has definitely clocked you and he's coming over . . . just stay calm." The raised pitch in Lydia's voice means she is actually more panicked than me. Shit!
"Talk Lydia, about anything," I plead with a whisper.
"So Jess, if you were to be in Wicked, do you think you would like to be Glinda or Phenaba?" Lydia asks.
"I think I am definitely more like Glinda," I shakily reply. Before he even speaks, I see his masculine shadow form across our table.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I wondered whether you would like a drink? Maybe join me in my suite where we can have a little more privacy? There are journalists everywhere, I'm afraid. I am staying on the third floor in the Grand Suite. I would love for you to join me, Jessica and . . . ?" Jonny looks at me with a questioning look and then at Lydia.
"Oh, sorry . . . this is Lydia." Embarrassed, I touch Lydia's hand by way of an apology for not introducing her.
"Pleased to meet you, Lydia. So Jessica, would you and your friend care to join me?" He seems anxious, looking at me with pleading eyes.
"It has been a really long day. I think we are going to head off to bed soon, but thanks for the offer anyway," I coolly answer. Lydia looks at me and then at him. When she looks back at me she's giving me a wide-eyed look, her brows stupidly twitching as her eyes try to do the talking for her.
"Just one drink before bed won't kill us, Jess?" Lydia suggests. I glare at her but cannot say a single fucking word.
"I know you are leaving tomorrow, and I have a script reading in the morning, too. But I would love to have a quick drink with you, Jessica." Jonny Riley's eyes once again plead to me. Between him and Lydia, I feel trapped.
My shoulders slump in reluctant defeat. "Just one drink then," I quietly mumble.
"Great, me and Beef will go on up and I'll see you in five minutes or so?" He smiles that same delicious smile at me. I feel nauseous with excitement when I know I shouldn't.
"See you in five minutes," I pretend to sound pleased. I look up at him and quickly have to look away. Shit! What is this man doing to me? When I know he is safely out of earshot, I grab Lydia's hand. "Why did you say that? I can't go to his room, Lydia . . . it would be wrong," I angrily say.
"It's just a drink, darling, and besides . . . I am with you. We shall go, be polite and then leave," she assures me.
"I cannot go to Jonny Riley's room. This is utter madness, Lydia." In frustration I pick up my wine glass and gulp it all back.
"That's my girl. Now come on Jessica, you have Mr. Gorgeous waiting for you." Don't get me wrong, I have always loved the naughty side of Lydia, but even I am completely taken aback by how terribly corrupt she actually is. She knows Shawn, and yet, she is encouraging me to go up to Jonny Riley's room.
It's just a drink Jessica. You'll be fine. I try to calm myself. Only deep down I know I won't be fine. The truth is, I don't think I can trust myself alone with him, he's just so bloody desirable. I feel drawn to him and we've only just met. The whole situation is utterly ridiculous. It's the stuff of dreams for a woman who is not married. The words he wrote, the flowers, and now an invite to his room; it is all just so intoxicatingly tempting, yet, incredibly wrong.
"Jessica, let's go." Lydia starts to walk and I reluctantly follow.
As we get to the lift, my heart is pounding. Thoughts are invading my head. I can barely put one foot in front of the other. What are you doing, Jessica? This is wrong, wrong, wrong. You can't possibly go to another man's room and definitely not Jonny Riley's room. What about Shawn? What about your girls? What about your own pathetic conscience? My thoughts are screaming at me! It's because of these thoughts that I know I just can't do it.
"Lydia, listen to me, I am not going to his room. You will have to go up, tell him, and explain why. I am married, and this is wrong. I mean, this is Jonny Riley, who we always joked about, saying he was one of the celebs we'd most like to shag. I can't and won't do it. He probably does this sort of shit all the time, in order to woo some wannabe or someone who wants to say they have fucked Jonny Riley. Well, I'm not that girl. I am going to bed and that is final." My voice is shaky but with an undertone of stubborn intent. I look firmly at Lydia. She needs to understand that I am not changing my mind. Ever!
"Darling, a simple no would have been fine, you know? I understand . . . I really do. I will go up and tell him, don't worry." Her genuine concern relaxes me just a little. I wasn't ready to argue about it right now. I am exhausted, emotional, and tense. I need to be alone.
The lift stops on floor two and its doors open. I step out quickly, looking at Lydia with relief as the door closes. I know Lydia thinks I am insane; Lydia lives for moments such as this. She lives for that buzz of all things new and exciting, particularly the feelings with someone new. Her lack of commitment in relationships means she has no true loyalty to a man. The thought of being with one man for the rest of her life, scares the hell out of her. So she has convinced herself that she just won't ever do it.
I'm not like that, though. I married Shawn because I love him. I can't throw that all away because a celeb, that I happen to fancy the shit out of, has sent me a bunch of flowers. Which is why I am going to get back to the safety of my room, then tomorrow, I will return to my wonderful husband.
I fumble around in my bag, getting the key out. Our hotel room is my neutral ground, I feel safe now. I grab my phone, feeling the need to send a message to Shawn. I know it's late but I feel I need to text him anyway.