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“See you next week, Lionel. I’m off to make the ten thirty JetBlue to LA. I’ll have my review to you as soon as possible. But I do think you might need to have a word with Jerry about his deadlines.”
“Yeah. I will.”
And hell will freeze over before that happens.
Outside in the street, Vivian hailed a yellow cab. “JFK please.” Her boss might make his people fly coach, but at least he never made them take public transport while on assignment.
In the back of the taxi, Vivian popped her headphones on and settled in for the traffic-snarled drive out to the airport. With a six-hour flight plus transfer time to California ahead of her, it was going to be a long, exhausting day. First things first. Her morning ritual had to be observed.
Get to Starbucks and down a Frappuccino.
The bright light of sunrise peeked between the tall glass towers of Lower Manhattan. New York might be a jungle, but nothing made her heart happier than watching the golden glow of the morning as the city stirred to life.
See you Friday NYC. LA here I come.
CHAPTERTHREE
Lower Manhattan
Early Tuesday morning
Draining the last drop of his precious morning espresso from its tiny cup, Bryce Royal grabbed his suit jacket and headed for the door of his serviced apartment. He was almost out into the hall when he stopped and quickly dashed back inside. From the dining table he snatched up a small silver bag.
“Disaster narrowly avoided,” he whispered.
Inside the bag were gourmet Jamaican coffee beans. Before Bryce had obeyed his father’s urgent command to come home, he’d ordered two bags to be brought up to his suite at the Royal Resort in Edinburgh. The coffee in America was improving, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
Living in Europe for the past four years, he’d developed a good nose for great coffee beans. New York coffee was nothing like the beautiful espressos they served in Italy. Bryce showed no mercy to anyone who thought that a Caramel Brulée Latte was a beverage suitable for a fully grown adult to drink. He was an unashamed coffee snob.
By the time he made his way from the Forty Second floor of the glittering tower on Eleventh Avenue, to the offices of Royal Resorts on the Eighty Fifth floor, the sun had just crept above the horizon. The whisper-quiet elevator took him to the executive floor in a matter of seconds. As he stepped out, Bryce stopped and took in the view which the floor to ceiling windows afforded.
A billion dollar view for a billion dollar company.
The city and the Hudson River lay before him. Europe with all its history was superb, but the US and New York in particular would always be home. Nothing on earth could come close to the power and energy of this town. The singer, Frank Sinatra had it right when he said he wanted to wake up in a city that doesn’t sleep.
“It’s good to be home. I just wonder for how long, and under what sort of circumstances,” he muttered.
During Bryce’s previous trips home to the States, it hadn’t occurred to him that he might actually be homesick, but this morning the pangs of missing family and friends were sharp in his chest. The fear of why his father had ordered him home in such a hurry only added to his already frayed nerves.
I wish Dad had called me back last night.
His father’s long-time personal assistant greeted Bryce at the door of the executive suite. The immaculately dressed Janice had worked for Edward Royal for as long as Bryce could remember, and from what he understood, many years before that. She had even been a bridesmaid at his parents’ wedding.
“Good morning, Janice. How are you this fine day?” he said, dipping into a bow. He would do anything to lighten the dark mood.
Janice gave him a tight smile in return. “It’s lovely to see you, young Bryce. We miss you here. I’m sorry you didn’t get much notice about this trip.”
Young? I’m thirty four. And I’m feeling every day of it this morning.
He bent and brushed the lightest of kisses on her flawlessly powdered cheek. Janice was the epitome of a highly paid Manhattan executive assistant. She was the sort of woman who arrived at the office each morning in her own chauffer driven town car.
“I miss being here too. It’s good to be back. Has my father arrived?”
“Yes. Edward is waiting for you in his office. Is there anything I can get you?”
Bryce slipped her the bag of coffee beans. “If you could find a home for these and perhaps someone in the catering team to make me an espresso, I would be eternally grateful.”
She took the bag and placed it on her desk. “Leave it to me. Now let’s go and find your father.”
