He gave a small smile and a nod. Then he seemed to be struggling with what to say. His face knotted into worry.
“Eve, this is super awkward for me to ask, but…I just had an idea.” He shook his head and looked away. “No, never mind. It’s too much.”
“What is it, Jack? Is zere somesing I can do for you?” I couldn’t imagine what I could possibly do for him, but it was worth asking.
He bit his lip, seeming to have an inner debate. Then he looked up at me tentatively, as if he feared reproof. “The memorial I’m going to… Is there a chance I could convince you to go with me?”
When I didn’t immediately answer he said, “No, forget it. That’s way too much to ask from a stranger. I’m sorry I said anything.”
“Mais, non, Jack. We are not strangers; we are introduced. I am zinking. When is this memorial and how far from ze airport is it?”
“It’s this evening at five. And then there’s going to be some sort of dinner afterwards. It’s about half an hour from the airport.”
I pondered my schedule and gave a curt nod. “D’accord. I can do zis. My business meetings do not start until tomorrow morning.”
He looked at me, incredulously, his eyebrows raised. “Really? You’d do this? It would make it so much easier to go if I felt like I had someone in my court. Are you sure you can fit it in your schedule?”
I smiled at his enthusiasm and patted his arm. “I’m not sure how much usefulness I can be to you, but I will go wiz you.” Then a thought struck me. “Are you desiring me to appear to be a friend or more than a friend? Do you need me to appear to be a girlfriend?”
He mulled that idea over and I could see the pros and cons playing out over his face. “I don’t know, really. Can we play it by ear?’
“D’accord, Jack. I will be your companion. However you have need.”
Chapter 2
When the plane reached the gate and we were finally given permission to leave, Jack hoisted my bag from the overhead for me, and we walked out together. We followed the signs towards the baggage claim. Jack told me that he’d take care of the rental car and walked over to the agency desk to claim his car. Meanwhile I spotted a black-suited man wearing a black chauffeur cap. He was holding up a sign that said “Lambert.” I introduced myself to him and said, in my most winning voice, “I won’t be needing you today, but is there a chance I could call you later?” I pressed a $100 bill into his hand, and he was only too happy to give me his business card in exchange.
That settled, I turned to the luggage carousel, and, my good travel winning streak continuing, was able to immediately locate my suitcase. As I was reaching for it, Jack stepped beside me and grabbed it for me. I was impressed again with his manners and thoughtfulness.
His car was a standard, rental sedan and once my luggage was stowed in the trunk, he drove confidently into traffic. We had not driven long when he turned into the parking lot of an average hotel. Since luxury hotels are my business, I suspected that this hotel would not be a treat.
Jack had suggested that we drop our bags in his hotel room, freshen up, then head over to the community center where the memorial was being held. A quick glance around the room confirmed my suspicions. There was barely enough room for a queen-sized bed and an armchair. The bedspread looked like a stiff, polyester nightmare tosleep under. The two pieces of bland, innocuous “artwork” on the walls were, I was sure, screwed into the wall. The tiny space next to the bathroom door must be what passed for a closet. And the bathroom would have brought my boss to tears. It was clean and functional, but that was about all that could be said for it. A toilet, sink, and tub/shower jockeyed for space in the tiny enclosure. There was barely any room to move, let alone unwind and relax after the end of a tiring travel day.
Jack saw my pinched expression and said, “Yeah, it’s not great. But I literally booked everything last night, so…” I was embarrassed to be caught being judgmental and said, “Non, I’m sure it is fine.”
While I was freshening up in the bathroom, Jack was changing into a black linen camp shirt over black jeans. Since my travel outfit was black linen trousers, all I needed to swap out was a pearl grey silk blouse for the pastel pink I’d had on. I looked in the mirror and brushed some powder over my face. There. Good enough for people I’d never met and would never meet again.
On the drive over Jack reviewed the roster of people I was likely to meet. Rather than have to remember all of the names, I offered to pretend I spoke and understood very little English. That would limit my conversational engagement. Jack nodded his approval of this plan.
“Oh, and, your name is Eve Lambert, right? I saw the luggage tag.” He pronounced my last name with the American hard R and T. Like Lamb-Bert.
“Non, c’est Lambert” I said, demonstrating the correct pronunciation - Lamb -Behr.
“Oh, OK. Got it.” He paused, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, nervously. Eyeing me sideways, he said, “This feels super lame, but…can we hold hands? I mean at the memorial? I just am really nervous about the reception I’ll get. I think the pretend girlfriend thing would be good.”
“D’accord, Jack. As you wish.” I answered serenely. But on the inside my fangirl was bouncing up and down with the thought that Jack Garcia wanted to hold my hand! OK, in a strictly supportive role, but still. Holding hands with Jack Garcia! I was more than OK with that.
I realized that since he’d asked my last name, I should ask his. Like I didn’t totally know who he was. Like his music didn’t comprise 90% of my playlists.
“You are Jack, oui, but what is your last name?” I asked casually.
Jack looked a bit nervous as he said, “Garcia,” shooting a look at me to assess my reaction.
“D’accord, Jack. Don’t worry. It will all be fine. You get srough zis evening and zen it will be behind you, and you need not be anxious anymore. “
He seemed to relax at my lack of reaction to his name. Mentally I was writing a thank you note to Bernard, the poker mentor of my youth, for my ability to keep a smooth, even expression.
When we pulled into the parking lot of the community center there were already several cars there. Jack turned off the car and sat with his head leaning back against the seat for a few moments before getting out and coming around to open my door. He offered his hand and I took it. He locked the car, I gave his hand a small squeeze, and we went into the community center.
