T h i r t e e n-4

Gideon ponders the question a moment, his eyes and mouth serious and hard. "I'd make sure she didn't get on that plane. If Charlie is the one for you then you need to make sure she knows that. You need to make sure she doesn't get on that fucking plane man. You'll regret it for the rest of your life." He bangs his hand lightly on the table to emphasise his point. "So I should ask her not to go," I say with a nod. "Despite what I promised her, despite what she begged me?" I rub my hands over my mouth as I consider Gideon's words. Was there such a thing as the one? Was Charlie the one? I'd heard people talking about it, but it had never occurred to me that it would be something I'd ever get to experience. "Damn right. But then if it was Eva I'd never have made that fucking promise in the first place," He looks at me like I'm the biggest fool he'd ever come across. Maybe I am. "Gideon I don't know that I can give her what she wants. That I can be with her the way she wants me to, or needs me to." He makes a frustrated noise and leans toward me. "You feel the same way as she does. That much is patently fucking obvious. So everything else is stuff you can work on. You both have baggage. Who doesn't? Go talk to her. Tell her what she means to you. You asked my advice. There it is. Go." He lifts his beer and drinks. "What? tonight?" I ask incredulous. "Now?" "Yeah, why not? She's had a few hours to cool down. Go to the fucking Bowery and lay it out for her. This is a conversation you guys should have had 8 years ago and you're actually telling me you're even contemplating letting her leave for another continent still not having it?" Gideon tells me not to worry about leaving money for the wine, because apparently he never pays. When I ask him why he tells me because he owns the place. He offers to have Angus drop me off but I refuse, telling him I'll get a taxi instead. Less humiliating that way if Charlie kicks me out immediately. Though it occurs to me then that I haven't waved a taxi down in years. I soon find out its one of those things you never forget how to do when it screeches to a stop in front of me. "The Bowery Hotel. It's in the east village." I instruct the driver, who nods and pulls out into the busy Manhattan traffic. It's almost 10pm but the city is still busy. New York indeed never slept. Yet, I was growing fond of it. I was happy to admit it. I'd felt it seeping into my blood since I got here, softening me towards its noisy brash ways. New York was Charlie. I could see her in the architecture, in the green of the park visible from the window of my hotel room, and in the stylish people wandering through the streets. She was everywhere. New York was her home and because of that I'd come to see it as part of her, even though she may not even be in it for much longer. Maybe if I bought a place it would be a way of pathetically hanging on to her? I could ask Gideon to find something suitable for me. I guess staying in contact with him wasn't the worst thing that could come out of all of this. Were these thoughts my way of admitting defeat? Wasn't I about to ask her not to go? Did it mean that deep down I believed she would go all the same? I'm pulled from my thoughts when the cab pulls up in front of a low rise red brick building with a glass panelled front. In fact most of the buildings are low-rise around here. I pay the driver and step out onto the pavement, which is covered by a rug with the name of the hotel emblazoned across it. The hotel is definitely not what I expected. There are two doormen in long red coats and black top hats who smile politely at me as I approach, opening their doors simultaneously to let me in. The inside is dark, dingy almost, with a sort of hippy feel to it. Wood paneling, vintage looking furniture and patterned carpets give it shabby yet chic feel. The reception desk is to my right as I come through the main entrance and is being manned by two women who smile professionally at me as I approach. "Hi there," The brunette says smiling. "Good evening. One of your guests is expecting me," I lie. "Mrs. Walker. Charlotte. Could you call her room and let her know Christian is here?" "Sure we can," The receptionist nods and taps at her computer for a few moments before frowning. "We... actually don't seem to have anyone under that name staying with us." She smiles again but looks a little embarrassed now. "Really? This is the only Bowery Hotel in the village is that correct?" I ask, pulling out my blackberry. "The one and only," She nods. "Doesn't make sense," I mutter. As I scroll for Charlie's number in my cell phone it occurs to me. "Sorry, can you try Van der Straeten?" I ask, feeling stupid. Perhaps because this was a stupid idea. Why the fuck did I listen to Gideon? The brunette nods, and begins tapping away again. "Christian?" a voice says to my right. When I turn I see her staring at me from a few feet away. She looks surprised. She also looks utterly divine. She's wearing an oversized grey Harvard sweater with her hair piled high on her head and the thick black-rimmed glasses she used to wear when she was reading. Christ she looks so young, so vulnerable. She's holding a laptop tight to her chest as she frowns at me. "What are you doing here?" She asks. I take a few steps toward her. "I came to talk. Just talk." To be precise, I came to ask you not to go. I came to beg you to stay with me. I don't say this. Not yet. Not in the lobby anyway. She releases a breath and her body seems to relax. "I was just going back upstairs," She gestures with a slight tilt of her head for me to follow her, which I do, down a tiled corridor and around a corner to two dark brass elevators, which are already at ground level. I follow her inside and she hits the button for the fourth floor. As we begin to ascend I turn to look at her. She's resting her chin on her laptop as she stares straight ahead, looking pensive and thoughtful. She senses my gaze and turns to look at me, smiling a little. "Have you eaten?" I ask. "My appetite kind of deserted me tonight. I've had wine though," She nods.