I was damned if I was just going to let her drift away with a series of banal excuses about how she was too busy to see me. If she wanted to avoid me, I had a right to know why.
I dialled her room number. The phone rang five times. No reply. Even though it was obvious she was not there, I let it ring and ring, just in case.
Eventually I hung up. I leapt off the bed and paced around the room. I had to find out what was wrong. I had to.
I decided to wander round the hotel. There was a chance I might bump into her, and even if I didn't, at least I wouldn't be moping in my room any more.
She wasn't in the lobby. I looked in all the bars and coffee shops, wound my way through the palm trees, the islands and the machines. I walked slowly, to increase the chances of finding her.
This was ridiculous. I had no idea where she was. She had probably gone downtown or to one of the other casinos on the Strip. I gave up my loitering inside the building, and strolled round the gardens outside. Turf, shrubs and palm trees had been transplanted on to what two months before had been a building site, and sprinklers were on constantly. The foliage was a deep green, interspersed with flashes of purple. It all seemed unnatural in the desert climate.
I trudged around the gardens for half an hour, and then made my way back inside. As I walked through the lobby, I looked left and right on the off chance that I might see her. And I did. She was crossing the vast atrium, heading out of the hotel. I hurried after her. I caught her up on one of the bridges between islands.
'Hallo,' I said.
'Hallo,' she said, and quickened her pace.
'I want to talk to you.'
'I'm afraid I don't have time right now. I'm in a hurry. Perhaps later.'
I lengthened my stride and placed myself in front of her. 'Look,' I said, 'I have to talk to you. And I'm going to talk to you sometime. So you may as well get it over with now. Otherwise you won't get rid of me. OK?'
Cathy looked at me, frowning. She nodded. 'OK.'
We were standing on a small islet with some chairs and a table. We sat down.
'All I need is to understand,' I said. 'I felt I was getting to know you over the last few days. Getting to know you well. And the more I got to know you, the more I liked what I saw. You and I fit. I know that, and I think you know that. So I need to understand.'
Cathy was staring straight ahead. 'Understand what?'
'Understand what's wrong. Understand why you wanted to avoid me this morning. Why you don't want to talk to me now.'
Cathy reddened slightly. 'I'm not trying to avoid you. I had just agreed to do something else, that's all.' She saw the look on my face. I waited. Finally she sighed. 'You're right. You do deserve an explanation.'
She still wasn't looking at me, but rather staring at a transplanted palm tree ahead of her. 'I have grown to like your company. It's fun to be with you. When you are not around, I find myself looking forward to the next time I might bump into you.'
I smiled at her. She still didn't meet my eyes. 'I feel the same way,' I said. 'So what's the problem?'
'On the aeroplane coming here, I sat next to Waigel. We had a chat. About you.' She clasped and unclasped her hands, and resolutely looked away from me. 'He said he thought that there was something going on between you and me. He said he didn't like it. He said it was unprofessional, bad for my career.'
My anger was rising. 'Waigel hates me, you know that. What does it matter what he thinks?'
Cathy went on in a low voice. 'He said if it carried on I would be fired.'
I exploded. 'That's crazy. He can't fire you.'
'Oh yes, he can. He and Cash are old friends, remember? He said he would check with Cash to make sure I wasn't seeing you. He said that there was some doubt about my future at the firm, and some prompting from him and Cash would be all it would take to get them to sack me.'
'He's bluffing.'
Cathy turned towards me, anger in her eyes. 'No, he's not. You are quite right, he doesn't like you at all. In fact he hates you. And he will go to great lengths to get his way.'
'But with what he's said and done to you, you could get him fired.'
Cathy gave a shallow laugh. 'You would have to be crazy to bring a sexual harassment suit against Bloomfield Weiss. Even if I won it, I would be finished.'
'Well, then screw Bloomfield Weiss. After all, you hate the firm. You said it yourself. So screw them.'
From Cathy's reaction, I realised immediately I shouldn't have said this. 'That's easy for you to say,' she said. 'It's my career we are talking about. You know how difficult it is being a woman in this business. People don't treat you seriously. Men like Waigel assume you are a bimbo whose job it is to seduce clients for the firm. Well, I refuse to prove Waigel right. I have put a lot into this job. I have fought hard to achieve what I have achieved, and I'm just not going to let all that go to waste.'
'OK, OK, I'm sorry,' I said. 'But you've got to mould your job to your life, not your life to your job.'
'Oh yes, I see. So the moment I see a man and fall in love with him, I should resign and do a crash course in cookery and household management.' Cathy's voice was heavy with sarcasm.
'That's not what I mean,' I protested.
'Oh yes. Well, what do you mean?'
The argument had got out of hand. Waigel was blackmailing Cathy to stay away from me, and somehow we were arguing over a woman's right to a career. I searched for the words to answer her, but was too slow.
'Look, I thought I liked you, but I don't really know you at all,' Cathy continued. 'I am not about to jeopardise years of work for you. And that is that.' With that she stood up, turned away and walked quickly back to the lifts.
I sat on the chair, overcome with anger. All the muscles in my body were clenched tight. My fists were white and shaking. That bastard Waigel! My contempt for him had grown as I had discovered more of his role in the Tremont Capital fraud. He had probably murdered Shoffman. He might have had something to do with Debbie's death. He had pestered Cathy in the most unspeakable way. And now he had chased her away from me. That turned contempt into hatred. I would get him. I would nail him properly.
I was also angry with Cathy. The girl whom I had grown increasingly fond of had reverted to the arrogant Bloomfield Weiss executive woman I had first met. But perhaps I was being unfair. Perhaps it really was unreasonable to expect Cathy to risk her job for me. The trouble was, I didn't really feel like being broad-minded about this. I had lowered my emotional defences for perhaps the first time in my life, and Cathy and Waigel between them had trampled all over the exposed nerves.
I stalked over to one of the bars and ordered myself a beer. We were all supposed to be visiting a couple of other casinos that afternoon which issued junk bonds. I decided to give those a miss.
I finished my beer in a couple of minutes and ordered another. Slowly my fury began to subside. I looked around the large atrium at the assorted people milling about, some in a desperate hurry, most just hanging around. I recognised one of them. I choked on my beer as I saw a figure approaching me from the reception desk. It was Rob! What on earth was he doing here? He should have been at the office, or possibly at his own conference in Hounslow.
Then I focused on the large yellow bouquet he held in one arm. Oh no! I knew why he was here. He was making the dramatic gesture he had promised me that evening in the Gloucester Arms.
He walked with a determined stride. As he came up to me he didn't stop, but just grinned. 'Close your mouth, Paul, you never know what kind of insects they might have in a place like this,' he said as he strode past me on his way to the lifts.
I realised my mouth had indeed been gaping open. I shut it and watched him disappear into an elevator.
I propped up the bar, waiting for Rob to return. What would she say to him? After our conversation, she couldn't possibly accept his advances, could she? Or could she? The thought filled me with horror. I had to admit it was quite a dramatic gesture. But Cathy was a sensible girl. She wouldn't fall for that, would she?
An agonising ten minutes passed as I stared at the bank of lifts. At last I saw Rob emerge from one. He saw me at the bar, and wended his way through the island walkways to where I was sitting. His face was totally impassive. I couldn't tell whether he was elated or dejected. He was apparently deliberately suppressing his emotions. Why?
