Home > life, writing > A Time To Fly (18)

A Time To Fly (18)

Vincenzo dropped Belinda at her hotel.  She slid off the seat of his Vespa and turned happily to kiss him goodbye.  She felt young and alive and didn’t care who saw her nor what they might think.  She put her hand on the back of Vince’s neck and pulled his face to her so she could smother his mouth with her large, dark lips.  Belinda turned on her heel and strode up the steps of the hotel entrance.  Vince watched her undulating body with open admiration.  At the top of the stairs, Belinda turned, flashed a bright smile, and waved before she disappeared into the hotel lobby.  Vince buzzed away down the cobblestones.

After the bright midday sun, the hotel lobby was comfortably cool as Belinda walked to the front desk.  As she approached, she noticed a tall, handsome black man in a conservative blue suit at the desk.  He looked vaguely familiar to Belinda.  The clerk handed his room key to the bellhop who carried the man’s suitcase.

          “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Sarron,” the clerk said as the handsome black man followed the bellhop to the elevator.  The clerk turned to Belinda as she reached the desk.

          “Ah, Ms. Lyons,” he said.  “I have a message for you.”  The clerk turned to get Belinda’s message from its pigeonhole.  Belinda realised why Sarron looked familiar.  She turned to look at him again, and was embarrassed to see that he was coming back toward the desk.  She turned quickly back to the desk clerk.

          “Excuse me,” Mr. Sarron said.  Belinda kept her eyes front.  She pretended that she believed the man was talking to the desk clerk.  “Miss,” he said.  Belinda turned, hoping she appeared to have just noticed him.

          “Yes?” she said, looking up into his dark eyes.  He was almost a foot taller than she was.

          “You look familiar,” he said.  “Have we met?”

          “Almost,” she said.  He extended his large, warm, right hand.  The bellhop waited patiently by the elevator.

          “My name is Geoffrey Sarron,” he said.  “What do you mean, we ‘almost’ met?”  Belinda took his hand.

          “I’m Belinda Lyons,” she said.  “I’m personal assistant to Maureen Silver at Cameron, Bertram, Clark and Silver.”

          “Now I remember you,” he said.  “I lost that big Cataract Films contract to Maureen Silver, and it was you who helped her beat me.”

          “That’s right,” Belinda laughed.  “I’d do it again, too.”

          “I’m sure.  So would Maureen.  Please remember me to her.  Give her my regards,” he said.  He started to turn away and stopped.  “How long are you here?” he said.

          “I have couple of days before I go back home,” she said.  “You?”

          “I have some negotiations here that should take a couple of days,” he said.  “Could we have supper some day?  As colleagues, alone in a distant land.  Are you alone?”

          “Yes, I am.  Are you?” Belinda said.

          “Very much so.  Tonight okay?” Geoffrey said hopefully.

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