Cocktails at the Waldorf

Angelica Kidwell stepped out of the taxi at 51st and Park Avenue and made for the entrance of the Waldorf-Astoria. She had no firm idea of why she was here and what she was about to do. She only knew that Walter, her gigolo of a boyfriend was inside, in Peacock Alley with another woman, and she would have none of it.

It wasn’t that she actually loved Walter, and she knew that he didn’t love her. Fifteen years younger, Walter was a kept companion, more than a lover, and she feared his love of her money and the access to wealthy and influential people which Anglica provided, kept him with her. Lately, however, she began to notice a certain distance in Walter, and more excuses for not being able to meet in the evenings. She suspected he was up to more than “dinner with old friends at the club.”

Then, one day, a mutual friend of theirs, had run into Walter at the Waldorf, where he was having drinks with a younger women. The mutual friend told Angelica that Walter seemed flummoxed when he saw her and made some off-handed comment about this being a cousin from Chicago in town on business.

Angelica, feeling both hurt and rage, visited Peacock Alley and spoke with the host, André, an older man, whom she’s known over the years. He, rather tentatively, admitted to having seen Walter there, and on more than one occasion. She slipped him one-hundred dollars and her card and asked him to let her know when he saw Walter there again.

So, it had happened, Angelica was home alone when the phone rang. It was André. Walter had just arrived and was seated with a young woman. She thanked André and ended the call. She was angry and hurt. All she could think about was witnessing this sordid little affair and watching Walter squirm, trying to explain himself. She grabbed her coat and handbag and went out the door. Once on the street, she had the concierge hail a cab. “The Waldorf!”

Moving with a familiar directness and with sunglasses on, she passed through the lobby and toward Peacock Alley, the fabled bar off the lobby. She saw André at his post, but he had not seen her yet. She wanted to avoid any of that. She just wanted to observe and not be observed until she was ready. So, she moved around to the side of the bar, where a long hallway led to restrooms. From here, she could see most of the bar but didn’t see Walter anywhere.

Just then, a door opened on a restroom down the hallway and out stepped Walter. Angelica quickly ducked behind a large potted palm, as Walter turned and entered the bar. He was obviously thinking of something or someone else and didn’t notice her. She watched him weave past tables of other guests and make his way to a table for two in the back corner, where he sat down with a woman who unfortunately had her back toward Angelica.

So, in order to see the woman’s face, Anglica would need to move around to a vantage point on the other side of the bar. That would risk André seeing her, and possibly Walter, as well. She waited and watched.

She saw André welcome a couple to the bar, and as he proceeded to escort them to a table, she made her move and slipped around, past the reception desk to the back side of the bar, where, just outside, a small sitting area with large potted palms stood. From here, she could look through into the bar and maybe see something of the face of the woman at table with her Walter.

What she saw was more of a shock than she ever remembered having before. Sitting at the table with Walter was her twenty-five year old daughter, Vanessa, whom she’d not seen in several weeks. Vanessa had told Angelica that she was going to Istanbul with friends. Angelica stepped back and took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs under a large palm tree. What was she to think? What was she to do?

It was then, as she held her head in her hands, that she saw a pair of well-polished shoes appear in front of her. Looking up, she saw it was André. He had seen her arrive and discretely observed her as she maneuvered around the bar. Having known her over the years, had recognized her daughter when she first arrived with Walter. Not feeling it was his place to tell Angelica about the situation he saw, he accepted her “tip” and faithfully notified her when Walter and the young lady came in, giving Angelica the chance to see for herself what was happening.

André stood there, with a silver tray offering Angelica one very dry martini.

Page updated

Google Sites

Report abuse