A Summer to Remember(63)
Chapter Twenty-Two
The following day, I awoke early. Not only was the show that evening but the cryptic message Talia had given me the night before weighed heavily on my mind. I tried to forget about it during my shower and afterwards, I slipped into a colorful short-sleeved, orange bustier mini-dress courtesy of Alexander McQueen and a pair of orange and black striped platform sandals by Christian Louboutin.
After I allowed my hair to dry on its own and wore it in long, wavy locks and put on the lightest makeup I could get away with, I left the bathroom. I walked into the bedroom and placed my makeup bag back into my luggage before I stood and looked outside the open picture window.
The air conditioning was at a pleasant temperature but outside, a bright burning sun and impossible humidity awaited us with stifling heat.
Paul strolled up to me before he kissed the top of my head. He looked casual in a pair of a fitted, expensive blue jeans and a white, short-sleeved silk shirt. “You look great. Ready to go get some breakfast.”
I smiled before I nodded my head. “I’m starving.”
He turned me around and kissed my lips. I didn’t care his open mouthed display of affection had ruined my perfect lip gloss. “Listen, today is going to be fine. We’ll get through it the same way we do everything else. Don’t be nervous. I don’t know what they have on me but it certainly isn’t insider trading.”
It was a joke I was supposed to find funny but I merely smiled. “Go on downstairs. I have to repair my lip gloss.”
“I can wait for you—”
“No!” I exclaimed a bit more forcefully than I intended to before I grinned at him again. “Find us a nice intimate table.”
Paul’s features seemed conflicted before he finally said, “All right. I will meet you downstairs. Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
I repaired my face before I grabbed a matching Hermès Kelly bag in leather and left our suite before I walked to the elevator. The couple next to me had a copy of the Miami Times as the wife brandished it at her husband several times to make a point in lightening-fast Spanish.
“Excuse me, may I borrow your paper?” I wondered out loud in proper Castilian.
The couple turned their head my way. “Yes, of course,” the wife replied in perfect English.
I immediately took it as soon as it was handed over and went directly to the Entertainment Section. It was buried but I soon found the story. There were two photos: the picture on the left was one of up-coming actress Kendall Lawson and next to her was Paul. I knew they dated so that wasn’t really a shock.
What was a complete and utter surprise that struck me like a ton of bricks was the most recent photo on the right they had of her. She was still thin but she wore an ivory shift dress and matching Yves Saint Laurent Tribute sandals. She stood next to her current boyfriend, an extremely popular hip-hop star from Brazil with café au lait skin, a gorgeous face and a body to die for. His arm held her delicately by the waist and he wore a large smile on his face. Her baby bump was hard to miss because she looked well into her second or perhaps her final trimester.
I scanned the piece before I got to the good part:
Although Ms. Lawson has kept mum on the paternity of the child she is expecting in October, it is pretty obvious the father isn’t Kool Luc, her current flame she has dated for the past four months. This time last year, the blockbuster actress dated Paul Branson, an Investment Banker at CDG Investments in Manhattan. When contacted directly by the Miami Times, Ms. Lawson’s Rep remained steadfast and would not give a firm “Yes” or “No” as to whether Mr. Branson is the responsible party.
My breath fell in slight pants and I tried to control myself as I handed the paper back to the older before I boarded the elevator with the couple. There wasn’t much that could be said. He obviously didn’t know or he would have told me. Perhaps she was afraid he would try to talk her into an abortion although I refused to believe Paul was that shallow.
The elevator dinged and I slowly exited though I wasn’t sure I could handle all the different emotions going through my head at the moment. I walked to our table in a fog and sat across from him. He held a copy of the paper in his hands and bit on his lower lip.
The waiter came over and took my order that consisted of a vegetarian egg-white omelet and a mimosa. I knew I needed alcohol like a hole in the head but I couldn’t conduct this conversation with Paul dead sober. My mouth might spit out words I would regret later and sometimes it was best to hide one’s feelings than to say something out of spite or anger.