Business Deal

Chapter 4 - New York, New York

As they boarded the plane Melissa handed her ticket to the stewardess and whilst Liam was directed left into the front of the plane, she was directed right. Glancing back towards him, all she knew was they were separate, he in executive business class, her in 'mere' first class. It wasn't that she was downgraded, after all it was still first class, it was more that he had worked to encourage her to like him, get along with him, almost offered some form of friendship. Just as there was a hint of a human being under all that abruptness and efficiency, he dumped on her. Left her to brew on an eight hour flight. The bastard. 

As she accepted a tomato juice from the steward, she toyed with the idea of sending him an abusive message via the cabin crew for creating this divide between them, for not traveling with her. Any ideas that she was an equal were meant to be quashed by this petty gibe.  Like some sort of jungle predator, he'd waited for the slightest sign that she was giving in, coming around to his way of thinking, then BANG, he knocked her back down to the gutter, the place he felt she belonged. She took several deep breaths and decided that she would never let him beat her. She needed to rise above this as there would undoubtedly be more of the same to come.

Melissa settled down for the flight. Avoiding the alcohol, she tuned in to a cheesy movie, picked at her chicken provencal, then just prior to landing she headed into the bathroom and reapplied her makeup, unclipped her hair and styled it loosely around her shoulders. With a peachy natural lipstick fresh on her lips, she was ready to face the man who was making her life so difficult. 

Exiting the plane, she was aware that his section would have departed first, a perk for executive business passengers, so she headed into JFK warily. She finally caught sight of him at the immigration booths. Again he was whisked through as a priority, without as much as a backward glance, whilst she waited in a much longer queue.

Melissa had a suit bag and a large wheeled case, and once they'd appeared on the carousel, she held her head high and made for the departure gate. Tears threatened to escape for reasons she could only account as anger, here she was in New York, not even sure where she was staying. Liam had disappeared ahead of her, and she felt like the poor relation wandering around in confusion. 

Emerging through the sliding doors into the arrivals hall she spotted a suited man holding a note with merely "M. Wharton" written on it.  Nodding at the man, he turned and led her out to a waiting taxi.

"Mr Hart asked me to hand you this." The gentleman offered an envelope as he heaved her bags into the boot of the bright yellow vehicle. Sliding into the back seat she tore the envelope open.

'I've had to rearrange my first meeting for half past two. This taxi will take you to our suite in the hotel. I should be finished by 5, we then have dinner with two VP's tonight. I'll expect to meet you in the reception at six. We'll go straight to dinner.'

Melissa's anger, that had bubbled unhealthily for the duration of the flight, threatened to bubble over, he could easily have waited for her, told her the schedule himself. But this was all part of his plan. Well she could play him at that game too.

Leaning back into the taxi seat, she forced herself to take in the sights as they wound into Manhattan, she'd been to New York a lot in her younger years, but it was several years since she'd last been there. Whilst things change, they were essentially the same, and she was pleased to see the cab pull up at a plush hotel just over Central Park. She may be alone for the day, but she was in a prime spot in one of the greatest City's in the World, and whilst she'd been desolate and broke in a few weeks, now she had a small pot of savings that would be well used to amuse herself.

Inside the hotel, the staff were courteous, and more than happy help her every whim, and after a brief trot around her favourite haunts, they directed her to the spa, where she spent the remainder of the afternoon, trying to relax her troubled mind. 

At five past six, she stepped into the foyer wearing her 'killer dress' a sleeveless black number that she'd bought from a small and exclusive designer. The stiff taffeta was arranged in a large rose at the lowest point of the plunging v-neck line, but framed her figure clinging to her curves, before falling as ruffles to the above knee hem. She didn't wear a lot of makeup, and with her hair swept up into a delicate swirl, simple jewellery adorning her long neck, she knew she'd achieved her aim, elegant and classy, yet modern, and with her black heeled sandals that made her legs look interminably long, she knew she looked a million dollars.

Liam hid a moan, he'd been trying to read a newspaper, sat on one of the sofas in reception, his ankles crossed as he aimed to show how relaxed he was. But he'd known the second she'd stepped out of the lift into the bustling foyer. Heat surging through his body at the sight of her. Every inch the English lady, she'd not look out of place at a Royal engagement, and he knew that jolt of pain was the realisation that no matter what he did, she'd rise like a cultured phoenix from the flames. He'd thought running out on her would give him the upper hand, but the way that she looked, her nose turned up in almost arrogance, told him that she was angry over his treatment, but not subdued, and there was contempt, that flash of anger as she scanned the room only made her even more beautiful than he thought possible. And he wanted to hate her for it.

He stood gesturing to her, and as she crossed the reception toward him everyone, man and woman turned to watch her. She was a pure vision, with her pale skin and almost ebony hair she should look gothic, if not freaky, but she looked, exotic and intriguing. 

"Dinner?" she asked looking him up and down taking in his black designer suit, ice white shirt and aubergine tie. 

He felt a little on edge. He'd showered and changed at the office, but her almost regal presence made him nervous. "Dinner. We meet John and Cynthia Maxwell and Matt and Samantha Perch at seven. The restaurant's not far. I thought you may want a drink first."

Melissa shrugged, "no need to start thinking of me now. I realise exactly what my role is. I'm the paid entertainment, that's been made obviously clear."

Liam flinched at the retort, then turned away from the pain and anger in her eyes, to lead her out to the waiting limousine.