Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (34 page)

Speaking of wine, I should have brought the
glass in the Ladies’ Room with me. I wasn’t sure if I could face
Gray again un-medicated. But what had changed, from his
perspective? Nothing. He didn’t even know I was on the phone. I
could go back out, and only I would know for sure that I was the
biggest idiot in the northern hemisphere, maybe even the southern
as well.

The fourth message, the one I was there to
hear, was from my mom.

Darn it!

I was supposed to call her when I got in and
I’d forgotten. I gave her a quick call, explaining my exact
location as an excuse to keep it brief. Yes, the flight was fine.
Yes, the hotel was beautiful. Yes, I missed her already too. Our
conversation was fairly short, but not rudely so. After I
disconnected, I exited the stall, washed my hands, and then
accompanied my spotlight back to our table.

They must have been watching for me because
our food arrived just seconds later. I had no appetite, but I ate a
few bites anyway to avoid appearing incomprehensibly rude. My glass
of wine was gone far too soon, but happily, the moment I put the
emptied crystal back on the table the wine steward materialized out
of thin air, querying whether I’d like a refill.

“Yes. Please.”

I don’t know what kind of escape I thought
wine would provide. I guess inebriation is different for everyone.
For me it did not furnish the kind of blissful solace from
unpleasantness that I had hoped for. I think only unconsciousness
or death could deliver what I was looking for. Instead there was
something faintly familiar in the way everything looked when I
turned my head, like space and time were struggling to keep pace
with my vision and movements. The only thing missing was the smell
of unwanted perfume. In my mind, the lag between my vision and my
movements reminded me of the way something that’s pulled will bump
into what’s leading it, once the thing pulling has stopped moving.
There were all kinds of starting and stopping and bumping going on
in my head now. Though strangely, I did seem to feel happier, after
that second glass of Zinfandel, and I wondered if true joy could be
found at the bottom of a third. But when the steward came back,
Gray dismissed him before I could engage his services once
more.

“Why don’t you save room for dessert?” he
suggested.

As if on cue, they placed a cake in front
us, or maybe it was just a slice…from a Paul Bunyan sized cake pan.
I didn’t remember anybody ordering dessert, and that was a little
disconcerting. What else had already happened that I already didn’t
remember?

Though this dessert certainly looked like
something I’d order: chocolate with equal proportions of icing and
cake.

“We’re supposed to share this?” I asked,
trying to sound incredulous (doubtful), but coming off more
incongruous (absurd), instead.

Either way, it must have been funny to Gray,
because he laughed out loud.

I said yes to the offer for coffee, though I
knew it would do absolutely nothing for me, except give me worse
breath than the job that lobster ravioli, wine and chocolate cake
were already doing. Of everything I’d shoved into my tiny matching
purse, gum or Tic-Tacs had not made the cut, I lamented.

I was dreading our departure. I had been
stringing out the eating of the cake, hoping to buy time, but
finally Gray was standing over me, so I was forced to rise. I just
wasn’t convinced I’d be able to do more than stand up straight.
Good thing the spotlight was on, so I’d be able to see where my
face was going to land. Gray was very good to me, though, as usual,
and supported me around my waist as we exited the dining room,
making it appear to be a romantic gesture as opposed to a
logistical maneuver—though I was certain that for him it was
both.

It seemed that he was trying to help me save
face by suggesting that we take a stroll through the gardens, even
though we both knew there was no way that was really going to
happen. The more I walked, even with him holding me, the more off
balance I felt. This was aggravating because Gray was enjoying my
dependence on him to remain upright far more than he should have.
There’s no telling what else I said, but I remember that Gray
seemed to be having a wonderful time with me.

No, the wine hadn’t worked out like I’d
planned. I just hoped there wasn’t more disappointment waiting for
me in the morning in the form of a hangover.

The next thing I knew, it was morning and
Gray was sitting on the edge of my bed. There was bright light
streaming in from the window. The clock said eleven thirty-five. I
was disoriented at first…but then it all started coming back to me.
My last real memory was the phone conversation with my mom. After
that everything was very sketchy, though I seemed to recall a
cartoonishly large piece of chocolate cake. Then I panicked when I
realized I was wearing nothing but my black bra and undies and Gray
was in my room with me on my bed. I quickly scooted under the cover
of the covers. The wide-eyed terror playing across my face must
have read like a stock ticker. He knew exactly what I was thinking
and decided he’d better calm my fears, but not before he got a good
tease in first, of course.

“So, was that the wine talking when you
asked me to marry you last night?”

Even if I’d drunk the whole bottle of
Zinfandel, I’m sure I would have remembered that. I rolled my eyes
at him but glanced at my left hand, just in case. He saw my
fleeting visual confirmation and laughed at me, with feeling. I
felt forced to retreat so I pulled the covers over my head. From my
concealed position I asked, “What are you doing in my room,
Gray?”

My unhappy tone, however, was not
concealed.

“You left the adjoining door open last
night. I decided to make sure you were still alive. I hope you
don’t mind.”

He was totally unrepentant.

“That I’m still alive or that you came in?”
I answered back in a snappish tone.

He ignored my question and asked his own,
sliding closer down the edge of the bed toward me. He pulled the
covers back so he could see my face.

“Speaking of that, how’s your head?”

“Did I hit it?” I asked in all seriousness.
It was totally plausible, considering how hard it had been for me
to walk.

He laughed out loud again. Why couldn’t I be
this funny when I was trying?

“No. I meant…well…do you have a
headache?”

He was trying to avoid the word ‘hangover’,
saving me from further embarrassment; like that was even possible
now.

“No. The only thing that hurts right now is
my pride. Could I have some privacy so I can get dressed?”

He stood up immediately. Then I added, “By
the way, what are we doing today so I know what to put on?”

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I set some
clothes out for you. They’re on the dresser.”

The idea of him rummaging through those bags
assembling my outfit was funny and disturbing at the same time.

“We’re going to hike in a place near Kicking
Horse River. But we’re a little behind schedule, so if you’re
feeling up to it after all, I’ll leave you to get dressed and we’ll
go as soon as you’re ready.”

Then he reached out and squeezed my foot
through the covers.

“Thanks again for last night. It
was…interesting, but…wonderful,” he said playfully smiling
hugely.

I flipped over onto my stomach, pulling the
pillow over my head as well, but really wishing for an avalanche
from the mountain outside to hide me and my extreme embarrassment,
a monkey-like resident, with the deed to the property on my back
these days.

As we returned to Banff from our abbreviated
day of hiking and sight-seeing at Kicking Horse River and Upper
Waterfowl Lake—both peaceful and picturesque in the extreme—I
suggested stopping for some fast food and made it clear that I was
looking forward to going to sleep very shortly after we returned to
the hotel. It was certainly a defensive strategy on my part, but I
needed the rest very badly. I had been dragging the entire day and
fought to stay awake whenever we were moving in the car. That being
the case, Gray did not argue, but complied without complaint or
question.

Even though I ate there all the time back
home, seeing the familiar golden arches in this foreign, faraway
place felt comforting and inviting. The foreignness was affirmed by
the fact that this McDonalds had no drive thru; a configuration,
Gray assured me, that was quite common most everywhere besides the
United States.

Though I normally would have ordered a Happy
Meal, not for the prize, but simply out of habit, and because the
portion size was, after all, exactly right for me, pride was going
to force me to take the long way around, and I was preparing to
order the very same meal ala cart.

But then, as always, Gray did the ordering
without prior consultation.

“I’d like the number one with a Coke, and a
Cheeseburger Happy Meal, for a girl, with a Coke, please.”

Then he looked over at me with raised
eyebrows, daring me to protest. But why would I do that? Because he
was teasing me again? Well, tease or no tease, it was actually what
I wanted, and besides, the prize was a good one: a tiny Barbie. I
was secretly happy about that. But I guess that’s why that menu
option is named the way it is.

Instead of feeling peeved or embarrassed, I
just smiled at my own foolish pride. Why did I keep trying to hide
what I really was when no one was ever fooled, not even me?

We returned to The Fairmont where I followed
Gray and the McDonald’s bag into his room and ate fast food with
him on his couch while he flipped channels.

It seemed an extremely unlikely choice on
his part, but he landed and stayed on a channel showing the movie
“The Princess Bride.” It was the scene where the kidnapped Princess
Buttercup is being hoisted up the ‘Cliffs of Insanity’ by her
abductors, one of which was Andre the Giant.

I was struck by the irony. I’d recently had
my own climb up the cliffs of insanity—pulled to safety by Ash the
Agent. And now I was sitting here at the top of the cliff eating my
Happy Meal with the reason for the climb in the first place: the
Dread Pirate Grayson. Inconceivable!

When I settled into my room for the night, I
was surprised, but very pleased to find that Ash had been there. It
was unmistakable, because resting on the table by my bed there was
a single, petite-sized yellow rose, with a thin red ribbon wrapped
around its short thorn-free stem. After receiving a similar gift
from him not long ago, I had been curious about the significance of
flowers and their colors, especially of the ones he’d chosen for
me. I understood now the secret message this single flower
conveyed.

I picked up my phone and texted the
translation to him; my sentiments were identical, after all:

I love you, my
friend.

Remember me,
too.

I kissed the flower, and then placed it
carefully in the arms of the tiny Barbie now sitting at the base of
the lamp next to my bed, who had promised to watch over me while I
slept.

Chapter 29 -
Lake Louise

This was the day I’d been looking forward to
since my last day in Iceland. We left the hotel before seven
heading north and west for approximately forty miles to a place
called Lake Louise, renowned as one of the most beautiful lakes in
the world. Set at the base of Victoria Mountain, adorned with a
glacier at her top, the jewel-like water of Lake Louise is said to
change shades throughout the day, depending on the angle of the sun
and the color of the sky. And though we would certainly do some
sightseeing while we were there, the principal reason for the visit
was to meet up with Gray’s father, Daniel Gregory, along with a
group of GGR employees assembling for a meeting being held at the
lakeside Fairmont Chateau Hotel, before the various parties struck
out on their separate survey assignments in the wilderness at the
feet of the Canadian Rockies.

We arrived just before eight and joined the
group in a conference room that was set up in a horse-shoe
arrangement, with a dozen or so casually dressed men visiting or
having breakfast at their seats.

When we walked in all conversation paused
and every eye turned to look at Gray and his ‘survey partner.’

Right.

I could feel my cheeks burning. I think
perhaps I even saw a wisp of smoke rising from them. Dan Gregory
excused himself from his conversation, which was shut down anyway,
and came up to greet us.

“Excuse me, gentleman,” he announced in an
unnecessary attempt to get the attention of the group. “I’d like to
introduce Miss Ellery Mayne, granddaughter of our esteemed
colleague, the late Dr. Samuel Mayne. She’s joining us for her
first official survey project, but if she’s anything like her
grandfather, she’ll be running these meetings before long.”

They all laughed and a couple people
clapped. I had to admit, it was laughable. People started talking
to each other again and Dan spoke to me directly as he moved in
closer to give me a big hug.

“Hello Ellie! I can’t tell you how happy I
am to see you. How are you enjoying Canada so far?” he asked after
he released me.

It was like talking to a version of Gray
from the future, but with shorter salt and pepper hair. Arrestingly
handsome, he had that familiar easy manner, and those same
enigmatic eyes…eyes that probed mine like there was more to his
simple question than could be answered with words alone.

“Gray is taking excellent care of me. You
can be very proud of him. He still can’t resist teasing me, but I
guess I bring that on myself most of the time.”

With the eyes of the most handsome father
and son duo in history looking me over I could feel the flush
firing up and I had to look away to breathe and collect my
thoughts. After a beat I forced my gaze back up to look Dan in the
eyes and continued, “But, yes, I’ve been having a wonderful time.
Thank you so much for inviting me here. It means everything to
me.”