Bewitched by the Businessman

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

Against her better judgment, they shared two bottles of wine and watched four Aliens movies. Lillian was beyond exhausted; she ended up dozing off through a few of the films. She wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight if she was going to make it to Los Angeles at a decent time.

It had been worth it, though. They got to share a few laughs before she left for her trip. It was, sadly, the first time they had a chance to hang out since Erin moved to town. But Lillian would only be gone a short while, then they would have all the time in the world to hang out.

She had just gotten to bed to try to get at least an hour of sleep, when her phone buzzed. She glared at it, willing it to just break. She frowned at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was a California area code.

“Hello?” She answered uncertainly. Who the hell is calling at 4 AM?

“Ms. Guthrie?” Inquired a deep male voice.

“Yes?”

“This is Garrett O’Connell.”

Oh s**t. Why is he calling?

Did Karla do her job and get him to drop the charges? Lillian could only hope. Though, she wished he had waited until a later hour.

“Yes, Mr. O’Connell? How can I help you this fine pre-dawn hour?” She was too exhausted to be polite, plus she was seeing the man later today. Couldn’t this wait?

He didn’t seem phased by her question or attitude.

“I understand you spoke with my assistant earlier this evening, and you want me to drop the charges.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. I have already spoken to Mr. Starr’s people. They are willing to retract their suit. I only ask that you do the same. This can be resolved in a much more civilized manner.”

“I don’t think so, Ms. Guthrie. He attacked my employee. I’m pressing charges. I’m paying your company to turn this situation around and get my hotel back in good light.”

What was she supposed to do? Wave a magic wand?

“I understand your position, Mr.-” She started, only to be cut off.

“No, you don’t seem to understand. I am pressing charges, end of story. And don’t ever hassle my employees again.”

Oh no he didn’t. He did not just threaten her. It wasn’t his words that irritated her, it was his tone. So condescending.

“I’m sure an egotistical guy like you has cameras in your hotel. Have you even watched the footage? I have worked with Mr. Starr before, and while he is a hothead, he doesn’t attack first without provocation. Your employee did something to make Mr. Starr respond the way he did. That is why I want you to drop the charges for the next day or two.”

She was so worked up she didn’t even realize she was yelling. She never yelled at clients, but he had to see he was being a jerk. He didn’t understand what he was doing. He was acting like a cornered animal. He was just lashing out.

“Furthermore, I don’t appreciate you hassling me.” She couldn’t see straight, she was so mad. She took her therapist’s advice, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and counted backward from ten. When she finished, she realized he hadn’t uttered a word since her outburst. She couldn’t believe she had let her lack of sleep and glasses of wine unfilter her words so awfully. She was sure she had just gotten herself fired.

She was about to ask if he was still there, when he spoke evenly.

“Very well, Ms. Guthrie. I will retract my charges for the next 24 hours. As you so elegantly put it.” She cringed. She had called him egotistical and she had yet to meet him. “I will meet with you later this afternoon. When you are more…refreshed.” He finished, searching for the right word. She was acting bitchy. She could admit it.

“Thank you, Mr. O’Connell. I apologize if my earlier request was seen as hassling. You are paying my company to restore the good image Ivory Towers normally conveys. Mr. Starr disrupted that. I want to see that mended. The only way to do that is if we can work together.” She said this much more calmly.

His voice spread a warmth through her she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Very gracefully put, Ms. Guthrie. Until then.” He hung up, leaving her dumbfounded.

It was the first time she had ever spoken to him, and she already didn’t like him. All business owners were the same. Because they made something out of nothing, they were entitled to everything. She was not looking forward to the next few days. He was probably fat and bald with a small p***s.

Realizing she wasn’t going to get any more sleep, she grabbed her bags and jotted down a quick note for Erin.

Erin would most likely find the drabbest thing Lillian owned and pair it with plain, flat shoes. Well, forget that. Erin had great legs and needed to show them off. In heels. Lillian knew just the pair.

She preset the coffee pot and headed out the door.

The drive down wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. There was always traffic, but it seemed to be moving at a decent pace. She arrived at her hotel just after ten.

The Four Seasons was already bustling with patrons. She couldn’t wait to check in. There was an upcharge to check in early, she would certainly be adding that to her fees for Mr. O’Connell.

She was led to the tenth floor, a room with a balcony. Not that she would get much time for luxury. She would take advantage of the spa, though she had no time to waste at the moment. She unpacked a little before calling Cynthia to set up a meeting with her and Derek. Derek wanted to meet at a little place called Nick’s Café, near the Dodger’s Stadium he liked to frequent.

Lillian hopped into a warm shower after her call. The last thing she needed was to show up to meet everyone looking fatigued and worn out. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she put on a dash of makeup and fixed her hair. That’s more like it.

Forty minutes later, she was walking into the café and noticed Cynthia almost immediately. Cynthia was only ten years older, but looked at least twice that. Obviously working for Derek had aged her horribly. She greeted Cynthia warmly, before turning to Derek.

Derek had a platter of food in front of him. He wore a Dodger’s cap low over his face, obviously hoping no one would recognize him. Fat chance of that. This was why she liked to do meetings in private; there was no risk of being overheard.

“Hey, Derek,” she greeted him as she slid into the seat across the table. She really didn’t want to be here, bailing him out again. Even if she was paid to do it.

Derek glanced up from his plate, very briefly.

“Hey, Lil.” He mumbled.

Derek was not a big talker. Good thing she wasn’t either.

A waitress came by and Lillian ordered coffee and an omelet. It wasn’t the first time she had been to this café. Derek had their meetings here a few times in the past. People were so used to seeing him here that no one paid him any mind. It was probably why he kept coming back. A few people looked at him disapprovingly, but left him alone for the most part.

“How bad is it?” Derek asked softly, still not looking up from his plate.

“Not great, could be worse.” Derek finally tore his eyes up from him food.

“How could it be worse? The League is fining me. I may even have to sit out a few games.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Well, you should have thought of that before you started swinging like Babe Ruth at a hotel employee.” She snapped back.

Derek’s bottom lip quivered like he was trying not to laugh.

“Swinging like Babe Ruth? Really? It was one swing. Singular not plural. What did I tell you about trying to use baseball analogies?”

“Yeah, well, I told you to stay out of trouble. I guess were both back at our old games.” Derek was a good guy, Cynthia wasn’t exaggerating that. Once you got through his ‘I’m angry at the world’ exterior and let him know you weren’t going to take any of his crap, Derek grew on you.

“Fair enough. So again, how bad is it?”

“I got Ivory Towers to drop the charges.” Derek’s eyes widened. She rushed on so she didn’t get his hopes up too high. “Only for the next day or two until I can see the security footage from the confrontation.”

“I didn’t swing first, Lil. You have to believe me.” Derek pleaded. She, unfortunately, wasn’t buying what he was selling. At least not all of it.

“I know you didn’t hit him without reason, Derek. But we talked about this. Fists don’t solve everything. I have access to your social media accounts. I’m working that angle right now. I emailed Cynthia your schedule for the next few days to get you back in the public's good graces.”

“Yeah, I saw that.” Derek snickered and took a bite of food. “A charity event, though? As in a monkey suit? It’s not really my scene.”

“It’s a good cause, it’s local. It would be great seeing you play with the kids. Seeing your name attached to a worthy cause will inspire the public to give you another chance. I think you’ll survive a few hours in a tux. I don’t think my little Cinderella will turn into a pumpkin from just one night.”

“You’re harsh, Lil.” There was no heat behind his words.

“It’s why people love me,” She said absently as her food and coffee were placed on the table in front of her.

After all but hoovering it down, she made her excuse to leave. She still had to get to the other side of town to meet with Mr. O’Connell.

“Okay, that’s it for now. I will see you later, at your first meeting. You know the drill.”

“You got it.” He gave her a mock salute.

“Oh, and do me a favor. Can you take your one night stands to a motel 6 or something next time?” She half-joked.

Derek gave her the finger.

“In your dreams, Derek.” She chuckled to herself as she walked out to her car.

She arrived a few minutes early to Ivory Towers. It was everything it boasted about and more. She should have stayed here. The walls were cream colored; the marble floor was ivory, white, and beige. High above the tall lobby was a glittering chandelier. Iron railings supported the marble stairs, sloping up to the second floor and overlooking the lobby. There was a dining room with its own movie theater. Research showed, it also had a men’s lounge complete with billiards, darts, and a port and brandy tasting bar. There was a lady’s lounge for teas and socials. And no luxurious hotel could be complete without two swimming pools, for indoor and outdoor use, and a spacious hot tub. She was in heaven.

She approached the concierge.

“Hello, can you tell Mr. O’Connell, Ms. Guthrie is here for our appointment.” The concierge eyed her up and down, as if he didn’t believe she would have an appointment. She just raised her eyebrow and cleared her throat.

“One moment please.” He said before placing a call. “Yes, Mr. O’Connell? I have a Ms. Guthrie here to see you. She says she has an appointment.” The snot-nosed kid said it as if she had made it up. His look of shock was almost comical. “Of course, Mr. O’Connell. Right away.” He hung up and jotted something down on a notepad. “Thank you for your patience, Ms. Guthrie, Mr. O’Connell is waiting for you in his personal suite. Here is the access code you will need for the elevator.” He handed her the paper he had scribbled on. “Would you like any assistance finding the elevator?”

Oh sure, now he decides to be helpful. Punk.

“No, thank you. I’m sure I can follow the sign that says elevators.” She pointed her thumb to the large sign on the wall right behind her.

Once in the elevator, she punched in the code that would take her to Mr. O’Connell.

Why wouldn’t he live in the palace he created? I would. I never want to leave this place and I only just got here. While I love my condo, there’s just something very homey about this place. Strange, it being a hotel and all.

She laughed to herself. What is with O’Connell men and passcodes on elevators? It doesn’t make any sense. Why not a thermal hand ID or a retinal scan?