The Mediator by Erica Pensini - HTML preview

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Chapter 17

I had to go back to the place where it all started. It was spring now, but when I reached New York the sky carried the promise of rain. Remembering my first and only encounter with Rob Neilson, I took the mood of the sky as an omen. I could have taken a cab all the way to my hotel, the same hotel where I had met Rob Neilson, but I asked the driver to stop when I was still fairly far from it.

“Are you sure, miss?”, he asked me

I said I was, and that I needed to walk.

When I reached 5th Ave. it started to pour and by the time I reached the hotel I was drenched. I stood at the entrance for a moment, wondering if I’d catch a glimpse of a limousine and if Rob Neilson, seeing me soaked to the bones, would smile and ask me for a second drink.

Few moments later a limousine stopped in front of the hotel.

Veins throbbing, I observed a guy holding an umbrella open the passenger’s door. A man stepped out, his attire perfect, his power overstated. I smiled sarcastically, remembering how I had smiled that same sarcastic smile way when I first saw Rob Neilson.

The man noticed, and he could not let go.

“Seems like the weather isn’t at its best, is it?”, he said, stopping in front of me

I let him wait for my reply

“There are worse things in life than getting wet”, I finally said, as I had to Rob

The man’s dark eyes gripped mine, his defiant thin smile mirroring mine.

I felt no tenderness for this man, but when he invited me for a drink I did the sole thing I could do at that moment.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink”, I said