Ahe'ey

A SURPRISING RECEPTION “Give me your hand, little Angel,” said the one-eyed man softly, extending his right hand to hold the hand of the two-year-old girl who sat comfortably on top of his left arm. The man held the toddler’s hand and placed it under the fountain of water that streamed from the eyes of a weeping angel carved out of white marble. The creature’s face was lowered into its hands and covered by long hair, its majestic wings pointed towards the sky, the only signal of hope present in the stone statue. The curly-haired baby girl felt the coldness of the water and giggled with delight. She looked back, smiled and touched the face of the man, caressing the silver eye-patch that covered the left side of his face. He held her hand, kissed it and once again placed her tiny fingers under the gleaming stream, much to her delight. Morgan woke up from her dream as she heard the flight assistant’s announcement that the plane was about to land. She wished she could remember the face of the one-eyed man that had haunted her dreams since she was a girl. Morgan placed her hand on her right shoulder and massaged it, attempting to relieve the tension from the long flight. She was exhausted; she’d been travelling for over ten hours. As she was leaving the baggage claim area of the John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York, she saw a man holding a sign with her name on it. As she walked towards him, smiling, he looked puzzled. She was used to this reaction. She looked quite young for her age; they were expecting an older woman. The man holding the sign smiled and said, “Ms. Morgan?” She nodded. “Welcome, madam. My name is James.” He took her luggage, leaving only her handbag. A group of three men walked towards her. The eldest extended his hand. She recognised him as the mayor of New York, Mayor Jack Dawkins. He had an enormous, open smile and laugh lines surrounding his eyes, presenting a welcoming face. “Welcome, Morgan. I hope you had a safe trip.” She smiled, humbled by the unexpected presence of such a high-profile figure. She felt slightly self-conscious—he was wearing a formal, and undoubtedly expensive, black suit with a royal blue tie, and his white hair was perfectly combed and very shiny. She attempted to flat out some of the creases on her white linen Indian-inspired tunic with her hands. Her comfortable flat sandals made her feel quite small in comparison to the tall American men that followed the mayor and surrounded her in a circle. Thick, curly hair was half tucked in between her neck and the turquoise scarf that circled her shoulders. She quickly gathered her long dark hair and hopelessly attempted to smooth her curls, running her fingers through the unruly locks that reached her waist. I might as well try to control a tropical storm; she thought, amused by her rebellious mane. A man stood just behind the group, and she couldn’t help but notice him. It was clear he was part of the welcoming party, but he didn’t look, dress, or act like the rest. He stood at the back and looked directly at her with a kind, warm expression. Heavenly, she thought, admiring his lean, strong body. He stood with his back straight, and held his head high, with an elegance from a different time. I know you. The rest of the world fell out of focus as she met his eyes. She felt slightly inebriated. She shook her head and blamed the jet lag, while he lowered his eyes, eyebrows wrinkled with some troubling thought. She immediately focused her attention on the mayor, who was explaining that he was going to be travelling internationally that day but that he had wanted to come personally to welcome her and wish her a pleasant stay. She smiled and nodded, processing only half of his words; the room was still spinning around her. As the mayor introduced her to her appointed driver and her personal assistant, she looked back in the direction of the handsome stranger. Then the mayor finally extended his arm to the breathtaking creature who approached them with a warm smile. His dark hair touched his shoulders; the top part of his hair was gathered in a loose ponytail that left some wide curls waving in front of his crystal eyes. A light goatee perfectly framed his face promising intellectual substance. The mayor put his hand on the back of the younger man. “Morgan, I would like to introduce you to Gabriel Warren, who will be your host and guide during your visit to New York.” Gabriel’s eyes, set on her, were like the sea, shifting between blue and green, reflecting the environment around them. He extended his hands to her and held her hand gently in between his for a brief moment. “Pleasure.” The top of her head barely reached his chin. As he talked to her, he bent his head and shoulders, and she looked up to meet his eyes. His voice was reassuring, and his words were sparse but polite. “We should start walking to the car. I’m sure Ms. Morgan is looking forward to getting to her hotel room.” His British accent was very pleasing and charming. The mayor nodded and, as they walked, he continued, “Gabriel’s foundation, Ange’el, is a major benefactor to many of our most prestigious New York City venues. They fund the Metropolitan Museum and are involved in a variety of initiatives that support the United Nations and several medical research projects. I leave you in the best possible hands. My flight will be leaving soon. Please enjoy your stay in our wonderful city.” He bowed his head to Gabriel, who bowed back. “Have a safe flight,” she said realising she’d barely spoken a handful of words to the mayor. Carl, the driver, and James, the personal assistant, walked ahead, followed by Morgan and Gabriel. She was still puzzled by the special treatment and the number of minders assigned to her. “We’ve made arrangements for you at The Pierre. I trust you’ll enjoy your suite and views of Central Park.” “Sounds really delightful,” she replied. Gabriel remained quiet as they walked to the car. She noticed that his shoulders tensed as he scanned the surrounding area continuously. As a man ran in their direction, Gabriel abruptly used his arm to lead her behind him, placing his body in between her and the running man. The man rushed past them, probably late for his flight. Gabriel stepped out of her way, placed his hand on her back, and encouraged her to move forward. He started moving faster, his expression somewhat pensive and preoccupied. Opening the door of the limo, he led her inside. She felt slightly overwhelmed by his nervous energy and by the proximity of his body. As if on cue, Gabriel relaxed, smiled, opened a bottle of sparkling water and added a piece of lime to it. As he handed her the water, he also placed a plate of fruit—strawberries, blueberries, and green peaches—beside her. She smiled; it was exactly what she needed and what she liked. She was puzzled and grateful for his precision. What a happy coincidence that my preferences and desires are met so effortlessly. She was completely drained of energy, and yet she felt an unusual inner peace. The tension in her neck and shoulders was gone. She ate a strawberry, sunk into her seat, and relaxed. James was at the front of the limo, talking to Carl. She couldn’t hear them through the partition that separated the front seats from the back. “You may want to sleep a little. The traffic at this time is dreadful. It’ll take us about an hour to get to the hotel.” His voice was calming, considerate, and hypnotic. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. She woke up as they reached Manhattan; the hustle and bustle of town woke her. It was a warm and bright winter day in late November. The Christmas lights were already up, and the Christmas shopping crowd navigated around the traffic, carrying their bags and packages. As they arrived at the hotel, he opened the doors and gently but decisively attempted to move her and the rest of the group inside the building. She wasn’t sure what bothered her most: the fact that he constantly touched her back and took a clear position of authority or the fact that she was complying with and enjoying it. She rebelled against the captivity of his charm. As he tried, once again, to rush her inside, she stopped, took a step to the side, away from him and started walking slower. He looked at her; brows bumped together in a scowl. She shot him a defiant sideways glance. She was amused by his reaction and happy with herself. He backed off as they got inside the hotel. Black-and-white marble tiles adorned the floor of the high-end hotel, making a clear introduction to the luxury that was yet to be experienced by its guests. Colourful murals depicting Greek gods adorned the walls of a rotunda that led to a marble staircase. The vivid trompe l’oeil paintings borrowed their style from the Renaissance. They didn’t have to check in and went straight up to the grand suite. Morgan was amazed by the size and sophistication of the suite. She had her own private terrace, a master bathroom bigger than most hotel rooms she’d ever stayed in, and a huge living room that was separate from her bedroom. “I assume you are too tired to dine out today? I have made arrangements for a light dinner to be served in the suite’s living room in a couple of hours. I’m staying in the hotel, and with your permission, I’ll join you for breakfast tomorrow morning so that we can discuss this week’s plans.” She nodded gratefully. “Good night. Thank you, Gabriel.” He smiled and turned to leave. She felt overwhelmed by his beauty. Looks are worth nothing, she thought, dismissing the butterflies in her stomach.