It Happened One Flight

8. Resolutions

A petite blonde wearing a short coat is standing at the bedroom door when I open it after my unsettling phone call. "Oh hello. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs."  I gesture down the hall.

"I was looking for you not the bathroom. I want to help you ring in the new year." She announces confidently with an inviting smile.  She opens her coat to reveal her naked body.  I feel my cock stir at the sight her perky tits, curvy hips, fair hair.  Without thinking I pull her towards me by the lapels and kiss her lips. She aggressively pushes her warm tongue into my mouth.  Our tongues collide.  She tastes wrong. I pull back and wrap her jacket around her. "What's your name?"

"Jo." She huffs and opens her coat, placing her hands on her hips, once more flaunting her fit body. I take a deep breath. "If I needed someone, Jo." I gasp.

"I'm definitely someone you need.  You can do anything you want with me."  She coos, licking her plump, slightly smeared red stained lips to sweeten the deal.  I touch my lips with my thumb and attempt to wipe the color off.  "Use me, George." She moans, as her glittery pink fingernails claw my stiffening member through my trousers.

"Jo," I am more aroused with each passing second, "That is a very enticing offer, truly.  You are lovely, but I am going to have to decline." 

"Your dick says otherwise." She looks up into my eyes and continues to paw my erection.  My resolve is wavering.

"Shockingly, that head isn't doing the thinking at the moment."  My voice cracks.  I recover and step just out of her reach, nearly surrendering to her sensual advances.

Her face twists into a scowl of disbelief and she draws the garment around her. She storms away brushing past Ravi in the hallway, much to my relief.

"George, are you all right?" He says walking towards me. "You turned her down? She looked fabulous from the side."

"Ravi you pervert." I tease him. "Yea, that is the first time in about eight years I have turned someone down. Honestly, I started to kiss her and Sami was the only thought in my mind. Although the temptation was almost impossible to resist." I admit.

"Ah my boy, I've seen you twice before like this." Ravi has a knowingly look in his eyes. "Are you falling in love with this woman?"  His question hangs in the air.

"Yes. I am. She is an independent, fascinating, brilliant woman with an irrepressible spirit.  But the boyfriend is in Montreal, apparently." I sigh.

"Oh." He pauses with a surprised expression on his face. "You have known her a few weeks, correct?  Too soon discussed your future, I suppose. Or are you relying on your scouse charm to carry you through? He scoffs at me. "How old is Sami?"

"27. Why does that matter?" I am puzzled by the question.

"It doesn't. But I shudder to remember the escapades you were getting up to at that age." We both grin and Ravi takes a long inhale. "When is she due back in New York?" 

"Monday night."

"Call her and give a moment to clarify the evening's events.  Don't jump to any conclusions." He wisely suggests.  "Aren't you seeing her next week in Paris?"

"Yes and she is coming to London for business also." I feel the excitement rising in my voice.

"Brilliant.  A modern career woman. I can't wait to meet her." Ravi takes another measured breath, looking me in the eyes.  "You need to tell her what you are thinking, feeling.  Words are difficult for all of us, you know."  He pauses for a moment, "But you have learnt from your mistakes, of that I am certain."

"I hope you are right." I mutter.

He hugs me tightly. "Third time lucky, George."

I call her flat Monday evening.  The machine picks up.  I start to hang up. There is a beep and a click. "Hello." She seems out of breathe. 

"Hi."

"George.  I threw them out of the suite."

"Go on." My tone slightly reproachful.

"Iris has been fucking Mark for months. That is why she was so interested in what was happening between us. And why he wasn't.  I can't believe her.  My best friend."

I chortle loudly at her disbelief.  "Poor sweet girl.  Best friends and lovers should never be introduced to each other. I could write an entire album on that topic."

"Er, George, you did." She snaps back.

"Steady on, Sami." We both hoot with laughter.

"It was their New Year's resolution to tell me and begin the new year fresh.  And she thought I would not be bothered by her inviting him for our girls' holiday weekend. Needless to say I booked them a room and the Holiday Inn down the street."

"I will remember not to cross you. Holiday Inns are rather down market."

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I settle into my room overlooking in Seine Saturday morning.  George isn't expected until this evening.  It has been three weeks since we have seen each other.  We have been chatting on the phone every day but I feel he is a little guarded, holding back since New Year's Eve. I take a shower to freshen up and stroll around Paris. At the rate I am traveling for work, I should be writing a travel column on the side. My concerns are confirmed upon my to return the hotel. There is message to call the front desk. I walk back the elevator and return to reception.  "Hello. I'm Miss Bennett.  You have a message for me?" 

"Yes. Here you are." The concierge smiles brightly and hands me an envelope. I dread opening it. I exit the hotel and take a seat at a pleasant outdoor cafe a few blocks away.  I order a gin gimlet and place the envelope on the furthest edge of the table from me. It is a glorious twilight.  I admire the Parisian couples laughing and sauntering by, arms linked. After a second drink I feel sufficiently brave and consider opening the envelope. I decide on another drink instead.  It arrives via an impeccably dressed man with piercing blue eyes. "May I, Mlle Bennett?" He reads the envelope and passes it over as he sits across from me. "I'm Laurent." He extends his hand.

"Samantha." I place the envelope face down on the chair next to me and accept the hand shake.

"Enchanted, Samantha. Are you expecting someone?"

"Well, eventually, yes."  I surprise myself with that response.  We have a convivially conversation. Laurent is winsome and breezy.  We finish our drinks.  I am ready to go back the hotel.  I pay and stand up to leave.  Laurent offers to escort me back to the hotel. I pause, then accept. I would love to stroll along like a Parisian arm in arm.

I wake up with a pounding headache.  The room is dark. The clock display reads 10:30.  A.M. or P.M.? It takes me a moment to figure it out. It's morning.  I close my eyes.  His hands are warm and smooth against my thighs.