Just tell him I called, Allegra said curtly. I'll be home by ten. He can call me.
Yes, ma'am, she said with obvious sarcasm. Allegra had complained to Brandon about her before, but he said she was a great secretary and he liked her.
Allegra thought about it for a minute after she hung up the phone. He had finished the trial. He was free for the weekend. He was going to San Francisco. He had told her that he couldn't see her till Sunday anyway, so maybe he thought she had made other plans, or maybe he was going to ask her to fly up as soon as she got home, probably on Saturday. But what was the point of that? That would just be exhausting. And as she thought about it, she had a great idea. She called the airlines, and asked if they had a seat on a flight to San Francisco. She knew where he stayed, she could meet him there. What a great idea ‘ she could surprise him!
They had a flight at five fifty-three, just seven minutes before she had been scheduled to take off for L.A. She knew she could make it. They had a seat in first class for her, the only seat left on the plane, and she grabbed it. It was worth it just to see him. She really needed to see him now, after all the insanity she'd gone through with Jeff for the past four days. Maybe it had all been a romantic illusion. Brandon represented solidity to her, and time, and history. They had been together for two years. She had seen him through his entire separation. She loved his kids, and they loved her. She and Brandon had a life together. What she and Jeff had was a flash of something magical. It happened sometimes, but you couldn't build a life on it, she told herself firmly as she called the porter for her bags.
She hadn't called Jeff to say good-bye. She knew he had left on an earlier flight, and enough had been said between them. It was time to let go now, and see what was there if they ever met again. But she was not going to jeopardize her future with Brandon, and she was glad that things with Jeff had gone no further. It would have been wrong of her, and she felt guilty enough about it now. But she had decided not to say anything to Brandon. It would only hurt him. She smiled to herself then, thinking how pleased he would be to see her, and how happy she would be to see him. She thought about leaving a message at the office for him, to tell him that she had changed her plans, and then she decided that it would be more fun to surprise him.
She checked out of the hotel, and got into the waiting limousine. The ride to the airport was New York rush hour traffic at its worst, and she barely made it. She had to change her ticket, and check her bag through, and she boarded the plane with one minute to spare before they closed the doors. Every seat was full, and most of the flight attendants looked as though they were in bad humor. It was the end of the week, everyone was tired, the plane was too full. They were half an hour late taking off because of bad weather, and it was stuffy and hot in the plane, and the movie broke in coach, which made everyone crabby.
She took Jeff's book out during the flight, and turned it over several times to look at him. There was something so haunting about his eyes, so familiar about his lips, he looked as though he were going to say something to her, or move. He was leaning up against a brick building. It was a great photograph, and she finally put the book away in her briefcase.
When they finally arrived in San Francisco, they had to wait on the runway for forty-five minutes for a gate. It was eleven o'clock local time, two hours later than they were supposed to arrive, and everyone looked frazzled and exhausted. It was a typical modern-day flight, the food had been bad, the flight uncomfortable, there were endless delays, and the people leaving the flight all looked disgruntled. Welcome to New Age travel.
She walked to the carousel, and despite the aggravations of the trip, there was something fun about being there unexpectedly. It was like sharing a giant secret. She wasn't going home to a dirty house and unread mail. She didn't have to unpack, or take her clothes to the cleaners. She couldn't go into the office on Saturday. It was like a little extra gift. A weekend with Brandon in San Francisco, and right now it was just what they needed, more than he knew, or would ever need to know. But Allegra was thrilled that she'd done this.
As she picked up her bag, she thought briefly of Jeff again. He would be in L.A. by then, in his house in Malibu, and she couldn't help wondering what he was feeling. He said he would call in a few days. But she wasn't even sure she should take the call now. They both needed to get over the insanity that had struck them, and seeing each other would only make it harder. Now that she'd left New York, she was determined to strengthen her resolve and try to forget everything that had happened.
Allegra hailed a cab outside the terminal, and asked him to take her to the Fairmont. It was a grand, old hotel, and Brandon always liked to stay there. He thought it was an adventure for the girls, and it was close to everything they needed. She had tried talking him into a smaller hotel in Pacific Heights, but old habits were hard to break and he always insisted that his daughters loved it.
At that hour of night, it took them twenty minutes to drive into town, and Allegra felt as though she were moving underwater as the porter picked up her suitcase.
Checking in, ma'am? he asked pleasantly, and Allegra mustered a wintry smile and told him she was meeting her husband.
She realized that he was probably asleep by then, but the surprise of seeing her there would be worth it. She was going to pick up a key, let herself into the room, take off her clothes, and slip into bed beside him. She would have loved to take a shower, but she didn't think it was fair to make all that noise when he was asleep; she'd have to settle for a shower in the morning.
It was eleven-thirty when she reached the desk, and people were coming and going in the lobby. There were assorted restaurants where people from all over town came for special dining. The Tonga Room for Oriental and Polynesian food, the Venetian Room for name bands and well-known entertainers, Mason's for something more intimate. But all Allegra wanted was the key to the room where Brandon was staying.
Edwards, please, she said, looking vague, and pushing the hair out of her eyes. She felt a mess as she stood there holding her heavy New York coat, and wearing the raincoat. She had a tote bag in one hand, and her briefcase in the other, and next to her, her suitcase.
First name? the woman in charge asked her, without expression.
Brandon.
Have you already checked in to the hotel?
I'm sure he has. He arrived earlier this evening. I just flew in from New York to meet him.
And you are? She stared blankly at Allegra.
Mrs. Edwards. She felt perfectly comfortable with the lie. She always stayed at the Fairmont as Mrs. Edwards. It was simpler.
Thank you, Mrs. Edwards, five-fourteen. She handed her a key, and signaled to the porter. He picked up the suitcase, and walked her to the elevator, offering to take the smaller bags from her, and she gladly gave them up. She felt as though she were about to fall over. It was two-thirty in the morning Eastern time, and she'd been going nonstop since seven-thirty. And in the end, her trip East had been fraught with emotion. She pushed that from her mind now, and rode upstairs, trying to suppress a small smile as she thought of Brandon's surprise when he saw her. Maybe he wouldn't even wake up and see her there, next to him, until morning. She wondered if he already had the girls with him, or if they were joining him in the morning. She suspected they might already be there, which was probably why he had come up so early.
The porter turned the key in the door for her, and she told him to set the bags down just inside the door and leave them there, as she tipped him and put a finger to her lips, for fear that Brandon was sleeping. He'd had a hard week with the trial, and he was probably exhausted. She tipped the porter handsomely, and turned on one small light in the living room of the suite, and closed the door behind her. Brandon was such a good customer that they almost always gave him a two-bedroom suite for the price of two king-size rooms, and she made her way through the living room of the suite now in the dim light, careful not to wake anyone up. There was no sound in the room beyond, and she was sure he was asleep. His briefcase stood near the desk, his jacket was hung over the back of a chair, there were several books and newspapers, The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, a Law Review, and there was a pair of his shoes, the loafers he often wore to work, under the chair where he'd hung the jacket. He was fairly neat at home, but in hotels he was never as careful.