BRUNO
Eddy stopped suddenly as we crossed the threshold into the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria. She just kind of lingered by the door, looking terrified, holding her guitar case by the handle with both hands so it dangled in front of her knees. There was more than one person staring at her. She looked lost and clearly needed a bath. For sure, she had the musical chops, but I had some worries that adjusting to her newly found good fortune might be a struggle.
I was halfway across the lobby when I realized Eddy wasn’t walking next to Ava and me. Ava was already on the phone with the head of LSA’s legal department, working out how to manage Eddy’s situation so she was oblivious. She did, however, stop when I did, and then she kind of drifted in place, deep in discussion.
I stared at Eddy and flagged my hand, beckoning her in my direction. “Come on, kid. It’s okay.”
Uncomfortably, she moved toward me, her shoulders dropping as if her guitar had suddenly grown way too heavy to move. When we approached, the dude behind the check-in counter eyed Eddy suspiciously as he asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Difranco?”
I hated the way he looked at her, like she disgusted him. Admittedly, she looked dirty, but she didn’t stink, and who was he to question her right to belong. “I need a room for my friend, Eddy,” I said sternly, trying to remain calm.
The clerk looked at her again, and his nose scrunched up involuntarily, like her poverty literally revolted him. “She will need to provide a credit card as a guarantee, sir.”
I shook my head at him. “I’m paying for the room”—I scanned his chest for his name tag—“Brad. So, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop acting like a fucking dick and start treating this woman like a VIP. Got it?”
Looking a shade paler, Brad swallowed. “Shall I put the room in your name, Mr. Difranco?”
“Sure, Brad. Also, Ms. Meyer here is free to charge anything she wants to the room. Understood?”
Brad nodded.
“And she will need some clothes. Can you have someone bring us a collection to choose from tomorrow morning?”
“I will pass the request to our concierge immediately, Mr. Difranco.”
“Good.” I leaned over the counter so I was closer to him when I whispered, “I like you like this, Brad, all compliant. You’re sexiest when you know your place on the food chain.”
Brad coughed uncomfortably, taking a step back. Then he dipped his chin, consenting to my cruelty with one word. “Sir.”
I leaned back and paused, and then I winked as I asked, “Do you have a key for Eddy, Brad?”
Flustered, he jumped into action. “Yes. Yes, sorry, sir.” When the key was ready, he attempted to hand it to me, but I took a step to the side, forcing him to hand it to Eddy.
Like a schoolmarm, I chimed, “What do you say, Brad?”
“Your key, ma’am.”
Eddy managed a “Thank you.”
And Brad added, “If there is anything you need, Ms. Meyer, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Smiling, I cooed, “Well done, Brad. There might be hope for you yet.”
Eddy and I had turned from the counter and were heading back to where Ava was pacing, when Eddy said, “You didn’t have to belittle him.”
I scoffed, “In three months, he will be telling anyone who will listen that he checked you in. Don’t worry about the Brads of the world, Eddy. They think they’re special and they’re not.”
“But you are?” Eddy asked.
Ten feet away from me, Ava caught my eye and smiled, giving me a thumbs-up. She was telling me she had worked that Ava magic and we were good to take Eddy with us back to New York.
Still looking at Ava’s face, I replied to Eddy, “No, but Ava is. And you are. I’m just a Brad who was born with a shit ton of money and the skill to know talent when I see it.”
Ava stared back at me. It was our second staring contest of the day. She was so fucking beautiful, even in the clothes she boarded the plane in at least fifteen hours ago. I’d been looking at her in those threads all day and as the time passed, they seemed to reveal more and more of her. The way her jeans gathered just below the curve of her ass. The way her T-shirt stretched across her breasts. How had I spent years denying myself the pleasure of looking at her? I spent years avoiding that truth. I ached for Ava. I wanted my lips on her lips just as badly as I did when I was fourteen. I kept staring, watching her face shift and soften. Her cheeks started to blush.
“Eddy,” I said, never taking my eyes off Ava.
“Yep,” she replied.
I pointed toward the elevator. “Go to bed.”
I heard Eddy make a little knowing sound, but she didn’t question my instructions. She turned, heading for the elevator, and I called out, “Sleep well.”
“You do whatever well too,” she joked.
I took a step toward Ava, and then another and another until I crowded her space.
She swallowed and then squeaked, “What are you doing, Bruno?”
“Keeping a promise I made to myself a really long time ago.”