Ch 29
The elevator doors closed and Gordon found himself trapped in the propriety of a wall of silence, in the AMG it had been comfortable, but with other hotel guests now beside them it was bordering on excruciating. It had been made all the worse by the promised intrusion of the 'master puppeteer' back home. This left him with the certainty, that this hour was precious time and he was loathed to waste a second of it, but wait he must. Penelope would not tolerate his brand of flirting in company, and on reflection, possibly not even without it. He was still in two minds if the GT charm would be deployed at any point during the evening, because for some reason, in her company, he felt like an inexperienced teen. He shifted his thoughts reluctantly from the woman at the side of him, that had his tongue tied and stomach in knots, to consider how long he could drag the evening out if he ordered room service course by course. Some sort of hastily contrived taster menu should ensure he was still in situ in the early hours. Perhaps giving him a stay of execution from the promised contact, with someone who, if he truly regarded himself as his wingman, would ignore any call made by the brain torturer beside him.
For him, eight waking hours without sustenance was bordering on a personal best, and with the brief thought of room service his stomach decided to grumble its protest at an embarrassing volume. He blushed as a bald man in his late sixties shifted his feet and without a word conveyed every single disgusted thought instantly to his perfectly coiffed companion, with one, barely disguised look. He glanced towards Penelope to check whether his involuntary reaction had caused her any embarrassment. Her mask was in place, allowing no outward acknowledgement of his bodily intrusion into the elevator car. He allowed himself a breath and a default settler; after all things could have been a much worse if he had drunk as much as his brother the night before. With that, his mind wandered to Alan, and as he watched the lights on the panel in front count-up though the floors he wondered how he faired. Maybe he should make his excuses now and take the trip back to the coast to find out. If his brother had experienced anything close to his own awkwardness on his own date, he may appreciate the company. They could drown their sorrows together, make a pact to swear off women, toast to a confirmed a bachelor status and solve the sponsor issue on their own.
As the upward journey halted, Penelope gave the departing duo a well practised smile as the elevator doors opened to allow them egress onto the floor directly below the penthouse. To show a certain amount of breeding Gordon indicated with his hand for the oldest toy-girl in town to leave the elevator first. It may have been that he was suffering from lack of nutrition, but he could have sworn that she had placed a hand on his behind as she left the car. The man with the sense of humour bypass followed with barely a curt nod to them both. The car door closed leaving them on their own and Penelope chuckled.
"He had a different companion yesterday. And did you notice the indent on his wedding finger?" She commented.
Gordon was thankful for enough to break the wall of silence surrounding the frigid air, "And he thinks a stomach growl is bad behaviour."
Penelope smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling amusement at the gossip surrounding a fellow guest, "He's one of the organisers, I suspect his young lady one of many who will be richly rewarded to hang off his arm throughout the duration of the race, and they seem to be getting younger. By the time we reach Boston his 'other half' will be in her twenties."
The elevator doors opened into a small corridor with only four doors opening off it.
"604," She confirmed, leading him to the right and to the golden numbers that would perhaps indicate that he had recently given up on the evening too easily, and that there may yet be an enjoyable night ahead. "Make yourself at home and take a look at the menu while I change into something a little more comfortable." She instructed as she opened the door and headed to a room hiding behind a closed door to the left.
Gordon threw himself victoriously on the nearest couch, yes, he most definitely had called it too early, he was forth down and two, with seconds to go in the last quarter and if he stayed alert he may yet be dancing in the end zone. He could definitely sense a shift, her indication for something comfortable, while admittedly, it had not been delivered with any semblance of a sultry tone; it was inviting a fantasy none the less. With a little orchestration his return journey would not be made until the early hours, maybe if the gods shone down, not until after room service had delivered breakfast. She had, after all, only weeks before on e-mail after Alan's indiscretion, stated that a date with him was a 'wonderful idea.' So that was what he would call it, whether Team Alan stole time from it or not, in his mind this evening would be remembered forever as his first date proper with Penelope. Now all he had to do was ensure that the evening ended with her open to the possibility of a second. He lifted the gold gilded menu off the coffee table in front of him and absentmindedly considered the options as he stomach practically cheered the small progress towards its desires. His eyes drifted to the closed door, the actions of the woman behind now silenced the protesting stomach. More comfortable, he couldn't get that out of his head, now it was gifting him visions of a baby-doll negligee glancing her alabaster thighs. Shit, he had to get a handle on this uncharted territory, and was the air con on the blink? It was getting hotter in here by the second.
He dropped the menu and practically jumped out of the chintz sofa as her head rounded the door, "You order Gordon. I'll just be a minute or two. Oh and try Alan again, it would only be fair to warn him of the oversight at the earliest opportunity." The door closed, cutting off any return.
Was this a test? Order for her! He had been in her company socially on only a few occasions, hadn't really got past the stunning eyes and other attributes to notice her likes and dislikes. He was starting to prefer being tested by her hired help on the track as opposed to this unwanted pressure. There was no doubt in his mind that a gulf existed between them, social standing, age and sense of humour to name a few. In all honesty, the list was endless, and if he carried on thinking about it he would be close to doing a runner. He was barely twenty-one and her ladyship, although if anyone admitted it in earshot, she would give a death stare that would freeze the warmest of blood, would be twenty-nine in the late autumn. There was a chance that a mutual attraction had been simmering in recent months, but he couldn't help but feel like some sort of pet project, his Eliza to her Higgins. A 'work in progress' rather than the polished and dashing suitor he would prefer to convey. Still he had his instructions, and failure to impress would not be from ignoring a basic request, so he picked up the menu from the floor with one hand and made the requested call with the other. Alan was still on radio silence, his evening must be going well, any hint of an early termination and Gordon was certain he would have been the first port of call for his youngest sibling. If nothing else, this break had taught them how to be grown-ups together, well almost. Without the company of the elder three, they had in fact become closer out of choice and not just because they were both easy targets for the others and had formed an alliance. He shifted focus to the menu, this late in the evening he doubted if Penny would want something too heavy, but what? Then gifted by a hotel who had thought of everything, on a page just before a seemingly endless wine list, was a room service taster menu of sorts. Four light courses, plat du jour, delivered in twenty minute intervals. With any other company Gordon may have dismissed it on sight, after all once in a hotel room with a beautiful woman, intrusion for a second time would be unwelcome. But this was win-win, he couldn't be blamed for getting the order wrong, he didn't have a clue what the chef had in store 'du jour'. If anything, knowing he couldn't make a big-move and possibly a mistimed mistake, the chances of a second date had to increase to at least 50-50. No sooner had he finished the call to room service he heard the door open.
Penelope stood smiling, looking radiant in a royal blue wrap around dress, which finished just below her knees and pinched in at the waist, with a tantalising V neckline and inviting ties trailing down her left side. If the sight of her dress wasn't darned near to turning him into a blithering wreck, her naked feet, adorned with pale pink tips stole any words from his mouth. Gordon had experienced sensory overload, those moments when the world turns so fast that your brain struggles to catch up. Usually focus arrived, fed by adrenaline, this time it was the spicy waft of Chanel as she walked towards him that brought him round from his dream-like daze. This fragrance had been imprinted on his brain since he had first linked it to her, so much so, that he had to admit a bottle he had thought to send her at Christmas was still in his dresser at home and on occasion decorated his pillow at night.
He shut his mouth suddenly aware it had hung open, to her credit Penelope, if she had noticed, gave little indication, "Have you ordered?"
Gordon shifted slightly to allow breathing space in the over-heated room as she took a seat beside him, "Yes." 'Shit Gordon you can do better than that, embellish darn it'. But the moment was gone.
"Drinks?" Penelope gifted another opening.
'Shit drinks, does this room not have a mini bar.' …"No sorry …..Erm … Al's not answering either."
Penelope leant forward to take the phone off the table in front of her, "I have a mind for bubbles, you?"
"Driving Pen," 'oh god he'd used Pen…again! Why the hell was the informal use of Penny not enough for him' …He studied her as she made her call; the slip seemed to have gone without notice. Still he really had to get his brain in the game, best behaviour, find something to say. "I'll have an iced tea…So did you have any luck?"
"Champagnes on its way, there's Iced Tea in the fridge," Penelope confirmed, missing the point of his question, which had been poised to gage whether she had any thoughts regarding a sponsor.
"I meant ideas Penelope." He clarified, mentally kicking himself for over compensating, if he'd have chosen to address her as Lady Creighton-Ward he couldn't have made the shift any more obvious.
Penelope smiled, "I have Virgil working on our options, but if we draw a blank tonight then I'm afraid that Tracy Industries and Scott will provide the bail-out. There is however, more than Alan's pride at stake with that option. There will no doubt be a media frenzy, Scott is the face of Tracy Industries and unfortunately one of the most sought after bachelors in the country. The whole reason he allowed Alan's involvement was his that his face is a relatively unknown, unlikely to be linked to the family. So far, the press has shown little interest, your uninspired alter egos have not stirred up anything of note. But place Scott Tracy, even using a pseudonym, in a car sponsored by Tracy Industries, well, there is no doubt they will sniff out a story and it will be front page news for the duration of the race."
A knock on the door halted his enquiry but every word in her last statement confirmed that Penelope and Parker were working for Scott and had been sent to babysit the road trip. He was torn between irritation, wondering just how long Scott had been aware of their plans and pleasure that the whole thing had brought him here, to Penelope's hotel room. A second knock interrupted his musings, this was an unspoken test he could pass, and after all, this lady was not accustomed to attending to her own door. So Gordon rose, tipped the waiter at the door and took control of the trolley, guiding it to a table and chairs next to a balcony. He opened the door, allowing a breeze to drift into the room. He then, fully aware of eyes pinned on his every move, placed the delivered goods onto the table. Before popping the cork and spilling the bubbles into the glass. He then walked over to Penelope an offered his arm.
"Please allow me to escort you to your table. Let's forget the brother save for an hour."
Penelope took the offered arm, rewarding him with a generous smile, "it would be my pleasure."
He pulled out a chair for her; certain it would be the small details that would secure a percentage swing in his favour on his chances of a repeat. After seating her, he made a detour to the small refrigerator and poured an iced tea before returning to the table lifting the cloches and unveiling a multi-coloured concoction of veggies and beans that he was at a loss to name.
"Texas caviar," Penelope clarified, taking a sip of her drink.
Gordon took the seat opposite, regretting the surprise aspect of his chosen order; however as he followed Penelope's lead and laid a forkful on a tortilla and took a first tentative taste his stomach practically sang hallelujah. Regardless of the offering looking like a kindergarten kids colouring book it actually provided the taste buds with a glorious re-awakening. In the next hour, each course was interspersed by relaxed conversation, general chit-chat that held no real purpose other than to fill the air with sound. If asked to recall any of it he knew he would struggle, all he would remember was that for a short time the rest of the world didn't exist. The universe consisted of a woman who tilted her head when she laughed, rested her cutlery when listening, assuring him of her focus. The woman in front of him was so far removed from the society girl, or the professional woman he'd had the privilege to work with that it felt like he was meeting her for the first time. By the time Penelope had taken her first and last mouthful of pecan pie and pushed the plate away to indicate she was done he had completely forgotten why he had been invited there in the first place. But no sooner had she topped her glass up, she opened her bag retrieved her compact and brought his family into the dream, bursting the bubble he'd created for them in his mind.
"Virgil," he noted her posture and tone change immediately when greeting his sibling, the bubble may have burst but its residue showered down hope.
"Lady Penelope," his brother returned, smiling. "So, did Parker approve of the alternate co-drive?"
Gordon placed his fingers above his brother's holographic head miming rabbit ears and placed another to his lips. He was surprised to find amusement twinkling in his dates eyes.
"He'll do, apparently. Although I think four days in the close proximity may be the death of them both."
Virgil laughed, but Gordon noted that Penny's returned laughter was directed at his own feigned mock-horror at her statement.
"And the over-sight Virgil? I realise it's been less than two hours since we discussed the need for emergency intervention but have you had any thoughts on the problem?"
"I think Kayo may have found an avenue for your enquiries," Virgil confirmed.
"Kayo?" Gordon blurted out completely forgetting the fun to be had in his incognito status.
"Ah, one half of lads-on-tour is still with you. Hi Squid, you survived the test drive?"
"Just about unscathed," he confirmed, "So what's Thunderbird Five's co-drives big contribution?"
"To be honest, it's not a bad shout. Al has quite the online profile under the name spacesurfer. Kayo suggests contacting GameStar to see if they are interested in branding the car and sponsoring one of their most successful customers. Kayo has done her research; their next launch is in the autumn, Rallycar5."
Penelope smiled, "And their offices?"
"New York, but Kayo has acquired the CEO's private number and although it's too late to make contact now, she has channelled her inner John. His schedule has him at the gym at 5:30am. She's arranged for a paint shop in Houston to be on standby to receive the branding copyright if they agree. Penelope if you pull it off, the AMG will need to there before 9am."
"Sounds like Kayo has done all the hard work for us," Gordon commented, seeing the hours he had imagined with Penelope while they worked on the problem together disappear and the end of a perfect night loom ominously on the horizon.
"That's not the half of it," Virgil stated barely masking his enjoyment, "she's also made Scott's travel plans. Apparently, there are no business class or first class tickets available on the final leg of his journey. He'll make HNL and LAX in the comfort he's used to, but he'll be like a bear with a sore head when he touches down in Houston. In fact, gotta go, he's just about to find out the good news and John and I have lined up the popcorn."
With that Virgil disappeared from the dinner table.
Gordon shifted his chair back, "Suppose I'd better tell Alan about the change in the plans, don't want him finding out as Scott descends on his hotel room."
Penelope smiled and walked him to the door, "And of course if you are bringing the car back first thing in the morning. You are more than welcome to join me for breakfast."
He kissed her cheek, "Penelope, I may just hold you to that."
He took the walk back to the elevator, turned to take one last look at her framed by the doorway. As the elevator doors closed he could not help but punch the air. Breakfast offered, in his mind the second date had been secured without a word from himself.
