The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 10

Looking down, Rachel noticed that Levant had a half-empty whiskey glass next to him. The waiter came up.

"Your table is ready, Mr. Levant, Miss," the waiter said, addressing them both.

"Ten minutes, Frank," Levant replied, waving the waiter away.

"Certainly, sir," the waiter said as he poured more champagne in both glasses. "Shall I let a red breathe before dinner, or would madam prefer white?"

"Red," Rachel said. "Do you have any Château Mouton Rothschild Pauillac?"

Levant smiled. "Excellent choice. It's my favorite too. We will have what the lady said."

"Certainly, sir," the waiter added, bowing slightly and moving away.

In the glow of the city beyond the panoramic window, Rachel saw that the years had been easy on Levant. He was young, thirty-five or six, but he had the fluid face of a man who was the son of a minor Hollywood movie star. Yes, it was an easy face for a woman to fall for. Why couldn't Denver have a face like that?

"Where was I?" Levant continued.

"Your feelings for your wife," Rachel said.

"Yeah, well, every year, on this day, I remember her. If I sat with a woman, she would be expecting me to, well, let's be frank, sleep with her. Any woman would be attracted to me. They all are. Even Charlie. I'm just that kind of guy, I guess. I didn't want that kind of tension over dinner on a day like this. Seems disrespectful, you know? A man - well, you don't make or keep friends for long in this business. Whoever I sat with would cause stock market values to shift. Then I remembered you. I remembered how you refused to kiss Killinger. So you seemed ideal, you know why?"

Rachel just had to shrug slightly.

"Well, I wanted no attraction between us. No prospect. No illusion. No dark shadow over the conversation. I know many men are attracted to me. No, I mean it. I've seen it. I've punched a few who asked. So given your performance, I thought you would be perfect for tonight," Levant finished.

Rachel relaxed at the sound of Levant's purpose for her. Looking around, she thought she saw someone who might have been Hunter, hugging the shadows and looking at them. She fixed her gaze on Levant. She stared at the small mole on Levant's forehead and sympathized with Levant's plight. She hoped that if she didn't see Hunter, then everything would be fine.

The conversation continued then in a natural break, Levant decided it was time to eat. Rachel stood up and found herself being shepherded by Levant, acting like a mountain collie to a single sheep. They sat down in a nook of the restaurant, discreetly removed from the elegantly busy diners beyond.

"Before we go any further, Charlie said you signed the NDA?" Levant began.

"I did including the destruction of the phones " Rachel confirmed.

"You read it. Well done. People don't often read my contracts, the fools," Levant continued.

"Yeah, we both have obligations," Rachel began. "What made you think of it?"

Levant said as he began inspecting the menu, "Well, firstly I hope you don't mind me saying this, but your eyebrows are wrong. Secondly, I wanted to remind you of the gagging clause. Everything I tell you is strictly confidential, even from Charlie. Finally, I just noticed McGruen over on the far table. See him? Old guy, longish white hair, blue tie, wife who cheats on him a lot."

Rachel looked into the crowd but wasn't certain about who Levant was talking about.

"Yeah," Rachel said, then started scanning the heavy menu printed on hand-crafted artisan paper.

"McGruen is possibly one of the best libel lawyers in the country. He has never lost a case yet in his thirty-six-year career. In his last case, he overturned a lawsuit and ended up costing the poor shmuck who initiated it over three million in damages after counter-suing a plumber who had miss-tweeted about one of his customers," Levant added.

"Oh," Rachel responded, taking in the information. She scanned over the heavy menu printed on hand-crafted artisan paper.

"McGruen works for me," Levant said, glancing at her with a level of smugness.

"Right," said Rachel slowly, indicating that she understood the message.

The menu seemed to be in every language except English. Rachel didn't know what anything was. In practice when the waiter arrived Levant ordered for her.

After ordering, they sat back.

"Charlie says you're kind of being a poet," Levant said. Charlie had told Rachel she needed to have some fake career. Denver had always fancied himself at writing rap lyrics. He had a few note books filled with scribbles. Charlie had transformed that into poet.

"Poetry Yeah. It's a messy business to get into," Rachel said, "No money."

Levant shrugged. "I could help you with that. I know publishers, people, you know."

Rachel scanned the arrangement of gold-tinted cutlery on the table before her, trying to remember which set went with which course.

"That would be kind of you, but I think people might talk," Rachel said, changing the subject. "So honestly, what would you normally be doing tonight?"

Levant pulled a bread roll apart with his fingers. Rachel copied him and enjoyed the crispness and aroma of fresh bread.

"Well, at this time, I would normally be on the second bottle of Jack Daniels. What about you?" Levant said, checking his Rolex watch.

"Honestly?" Rachel said, copying Levant and spreading the smooth butter on her bread.

"Honestly," said Levant, "I insist on the absolute truth."

"Playing Eve online," Rachel said. "Am I a bad person for admitting that?"

The waiter walked up with large plates with tiny quantities of exquisite food on them. He refilled glasses and left.

"Yeah, you decide to play for ten minutes and wake up hours later wondering where all the time went," Rachel said.

"Sounds like the Jack Daniels," Levant said, smiling.

Rachel looked at him. "Yeah, you're right. It's not that different."

The waiter arrived with the starters.

"Maybe I should try it sometime. It's better for my liver," Levant said, looking at the starter, "Perhaps you can show me?"

Rachel looked down at her plate. "Is it me, or is this starter smaller than its description?" She said at the waiter left.

"Yeah, you're right," Levant said, then paused, looking very sad. "Well, that's weird. I never smiled on the anniversary before."

Rachel looked up, and Levant was looking at her with a huge pair of puppy dog eyes, like he was about to start crying.

"She wouldn't have wanted me to stop smiling," Levant said, almost croaking.

Rachel sighed and wondered what to do if a huge man started crying for no reason in a restaurant in public. People would look and wonder what she was doing.

"No, she wouldn't have," Rachel said softly. She reached over and touched Levant's hand. It seemed the right thing.

After the first course was expertly cleared away, Levant sat back. The food and wine had helped him recover from his emotional trip.

"I always have this seat. You know why I like it?" Levant began philosophically. "From this seat, you can look in the mirrors and see everyone in the room without them seeing you."

It was dark near the window they were seated by, which reflected more mirrors in the room. Levant nodded at one mirror.

"The woman over there in the blue slacks is Marcova, the chief executive for CNBC. The man she's having dinner with is the owner of a rival TV company. In the far corner, that's Axel Vain. See him, the young man wondering which way the fork goes? He just received $100 million in start-up funding for some artificial intelligence thing his team developed in their garage. The man he's talking to is another investor. Vain doesn't need him, and now that he's relaxed, he'll get old George on the hook. Beyond them, do you see the woman in blue sitting at the next table over?"

Rachel looked over. Her eye was caught by the ash blonde in an elegant red dress. She was alone, looking around. She looked as pretty as she looked vulnerable. There was a tremendous sadness in the way she sat. She was stunning, with a small face under the beach waves of curly blonde hair. Denver would have obsessed about her eyes for days. She sat comfortably, checking the time on her phone.

"Blue?" Rachel said.

"See the Daenerys Targaryen lookalike on her own in the red dress? Five tables down from in blue That's Kitty Faulks. She used to work for me at my paper. He's the editor for one of the papers in the Bay but not hers."

Rachel noticed the woman in the blue dress. Her dress was modest yet stylish - a knee-length pencil skirt and a blouse with a blazer over it. Her hair was styled neatly, pulled back in a sleek bun with a few wisps left in loose waves around her face. She exuded an air of intelligence and confidence, her eyes darting back and forth as she listened carefully to the editor and formulated her next question.

Mean while Rachel looked at the lone woman in red.

Levant continued, "Two tables beyond them is Mike Pallati, one of the local mob's head men. He literally knows where the bodies are buried. You see, everyone comes here. Politicians, actors, the world eats here at the Thornbury."

Rachel looked closely at Levant. "Well, it is such a lavish room. I can see why."

"You like the room. I designed it myself. Steve Jobs said to me he thought he understood me. I do with hotels what he did with computers. He said I was more like an artist of accommodation than a businessman. Speaking of which, can I say I know a lot about women. I could tell you... you see, all women look at me. I know that look. I know they want me, they desire me. I could only tell you where, well, who you are, because of two things. No desire, and you haven't looked at your phone once, Miss Price. You must be very strong-willed to ignore the siren's call so long."

Rachel smiled. "Well, my phone is a crappy android phone with a cracked screen. Doesn't go with such a nice dress." She pointed at her dress with both hands.

Levant took a sip of wine. "Wouldn't have stopped a woman. When you are reunited with your phone, you should follow me on Twitter. I have a large following. Very large. Possibly the largest."

"I will do. Was Steve Jobs the most famous person you know?" Rachel asked.

"I've played golf with Trump a few times. He cheats by the way. Not many people know that."

The night continued as close as possible to a living definition of amicability. Between the main course and dessert, Levant left the table. He came back chatting with what sounded like a Russian. The man was in his fifties, spoke in a thick accent, and had known Levant's dad and Levant as a boy. He was balding but still in good shape. The man had a slightly formal bearing, like he was used to wearing a uniform and marching around. He also seemed slightly too jovial to be real.

"So who is this beautiful woman?" The Russian said, smiling.

Rachel got up.

"This is Rachel. She is a poet," Levant introduced them. "Rachel, this is Petrov Vadansk, a serial investor hailing from St. Petersburg."

"There aren't enough beautiful poets," Petrov said, then turned to Levant. "I heard you are putting a new deal together. I say, my friend Douglas is doing this without me?"

Levant smiled like a politician on polling day. "Which project is this?"

"Zeitgeist, Douglas, Zeitgeist, you know that," Petrov said.

Levant looked at Petrov like he was wondering about it.

"I'm not going to talk business now, but you can drop by tomorrow morning if you like. I can talk about the details then," Levant said, patting Petrov on the arm.

Petrov bowed. "Ah, this is good. Miss Rachel, sorry to disturb you. I do hope we meet again. Soon."

With that, he walked away.

"Sorry," Levant said, pulling out his phone, then talking to it. "Charlie, I just had Petrov here. No, I don't know how he got past security. Have the guard at the door fired, then contact Lucy and tell her to make an appointment with Petrov for the morning. Then find an appointment for me in Chicago and warn the plane to file a flight plan."

Without even saying goodbye, Levant put the phone down and smiled. "Where were we?" Levant began.

Just then, two waiters approached with a number of plates. They fussed around, peeling layers of cutlery and glasses away and producing miniature sculptures as food. Rachel looked at the feast, "Seems a shame to eat such beautiful food," she said.

They chatted with no strong rhythm or purpose, just a conversation meandering like a long river along a slow delta. Between the main course and dessert, Levant got up, excused himself, and left for the bathroom. He returned smiling and nodding at guests as he walked along. There was something in his walk that seemed lighter with every footstep.

Before the dessert was brought, a woman approached carrying a paper Apple bag in her left hand. She was in her twenties, with a long sober face and graceful locks running to her rounded shoulders. She was smartly dressed but had one of the Thornbury badges on. Her movements were deliberate and precise, every step calculated for maximum efficiency. She wore a tailored suit that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail that cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall.

"Lucy," Levant said as she approached the table. "This is Rachel. Rachel, Lucy, my PA."

"Mr. Levant," she said as she leaned forward, her voice low and husky.

Rachel looked as Lucy placed the bag on the floor next to Rachel's legs. She then placed two objects on the side of Rachel's plate.

"This is Lucy. She is a force of nature, a hurricane in human form," Levant said proudly.

The white box contained the latest model iPhone it was a yellowish-gold color. and beneath a woman's Apple Watch. The watch had a very expensive-looking strap. The iPhone lay seductively on the table, its sleek lines and curves begging to be touched. The silver casing gleamed in the light, hinting at the technological wonders hidden within. As Rachel's fingers brushed against its smooth surface, a shiver ran down her spine.

She couldn't help but marvel at the power that lay beneath its surface, the intricate circuitry that allowed it to connect with the world at the touch of a button. It was a thing of beauty, a modern masterpiece that had captured her heart and her imagination. This was a very new top-of-the-line model. Rachel knew it was ludicrously expensive.

"Haven't these only just been launched?" Rachel said.

"They have, you said you don't have a phone to match your dress. Now you do," Levant said smugly. "More importantly, I can have a way of contacting you. Put it on, it's yours."

Rachel looked down. "You just bought it? That's really kind. I didn't think the Apple stores open this late."

"They don't," Lucy said. It was hard to tell if there was a sense of pride or irritation in her words. "If there isn't anything else you need, I will leave you alone. Sorry to intrude, Miss Price." With that, she walked quickly off.

"Well, for a monster, you're pretty generous," Rachel said.

"Yeah, all the best monsters are," Levant said, resting his chin on his finger. "It's our secret."

Rachel picked the phone up and pushed the on button.

"Wow, new tech moment. I love a new tech moment," she smiled as it came to life.

"Yeah, me too," Levant said.

Rachel put the watch on, and Levant got up and came over to help with the strap. A number of heads turned, wondering if this was the moment Levant would create a spectacle and get on one knee.

Dessert was described as cheesecake, but the reality was more complex and smaller. Rachel took a delicious bite. She turned her wrist and watched the way the screen responded as Levant spoke.

"So what does this mean?" Rachel asked.

"Technology doesn't mean anything. Gifts don't mean anything," Levant replied.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Indulge me. I'm a poet. Everything means something."

"It means I've enjoyed tonight. Its been a vacation, not talking about business or sex. It's been liberating not having the usual expectations hanging over us. It feels free. It means I fly into the Bay every so often. If you happen to be available, then you're available for dinner good. If you're not, well, you're not," Levant explained.

Rachel sat back, slightly confused. "Well, that's an interesting offer, Mr. Levant."

"Douglas," Levant corrected her.

Rachel finished her dessert, savoring the flavors as she tried to make sense of the evening.

"That's an interesting offer, Douglas, but I find myself not wanting to taint tonight's very enjoyable experience. I feel I will be at some real risk of, shall we say, the curtain being lifted to everyone's mutual distress," Rachel said.

Levant looked at Rachel. "You lost me."

"Yeah, I lost me as well. Same deal as tonight?" Rachel said.

Levant shrugged. "Naturally." He then held his hand out to shake. "Purely platonic, Miss Price," he said.

Rachel shook Levant's hand. He held it firmly and they shook.

"Purely platonic, Mr. Levant. Douglas. Okay, I don't know what's happening, what I'm doing, or where things are going, but it wasn't so terrible that I'm not willing to give this another go," Rachel said. Then she followed with, "I think I lost me again."

Soon Levant excused himself, saying he had a plane to catch. Rachel mentioned the meeting with the Russian, and Levant said that was why he had a plane to catch. If Levant missed a goodbye kiss, Rachel didn't say. With that, he was gone.

****

Rachel left the restaurant and walked out only to get five feet before being leapt upon by Charlie.

"Well done," Charlie continued, her tone sounding like it was Christmas inside her voice. "Nice phone. How did it go?" Charlie asked with a slight smirk on her face.

"Good, I think. I think he's lonely, he just wanted someone normal to talk to. It went well. Good Mr Boss man wants me back," Rachel said.

Charlie looked over, and Rachel realized this was really news.

"When?" Charlie said.

"He didn't say. He flies in occasionally, he says. If he's in town, then yeah. Hence the phone."

Charlie immediately began scrolling quickly through her phone. She found an email, and the screen lit up her face with a sharp light. Charlie's eyebrows lifted. She typed a couple of messages in response while the elevator moved.

Charlie took Rachel's hand and guided her to the service elevator.

"You look fabulous," Charlie said. "I realized it was the slight androgynous hint you gave it. You look so fucking sensual I can't believe it. Kiss me."

As soon as the doors closed, Charlie came up and kissed Rachel firmly on the lips. Their bodies pushed together, and Rachel was pushed against the far wall. Charlie pulled Rachel closer.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am," Charlie said, her face close to Rachel's. They kissed again, slower, then pulled away.

"Full disclosure. Levant told me if you didn't meet him, I was fired. Not fired really. He was going to shut the hotel down. Everyone would lose their jobs. I would fire everyone, then he would fire me or move me to Alaska forever. He said he would turn the place into condos," Charlie said.

Rachel's face turned white. "You're kidding. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure how pissed off you were at me. Handing over a loaded gun like that...well, some people wouldn't be tempted to use it," Charlie explained.

"I wouldn't have done it," Rachel said.

The elevator opened, and Charlie, with a giggle, pulled Rachel around the corner to the door of Suite 1442. They slipped into the room. Beth had tidied it up, and it looked close to perfect, then left.

Charlie began kissing Rachel and pushing her against the wall of the corridor. Rachel got the game and pushed Charlie back, kissing her.

"I feel so good. I feel like I've been touched by an angel," Charlie said, grabbing breaths between extended kisses. She ran her lips gently up Rachel's neck.