AUTHOR'S NOTE:Welcome back everyone! This is chapter two ofGertrude, Westley and James T Kirk – the rewrite. I know I said I'll delete the old chapters, but I'm keeping them up till my new beta has a chance to read them. I knew the chapter Meet James was really short, I just wanted to know if someone would read it honestly. Some of you have sent me private messages letting me know that they're still alive and following the story. And for that I cannot thank you enough! As always, read and review for feedback/comments/complaints! PS: I know this is short as well, but that all will change when my beta and I get things worked out. 3
Chapter One:Tainted Love
"Ok Gertrude. This is not the end of the world. You've had to deal with worse before, and you made it! You can do this! Yes you can. Oh who am I kidding! My life is over. I can't believe I threw it all away for that lying cheating piece of scum. Oh my god my mother was right! Kill me now, just now. I have no reason to live! Oh my god oh my goooood what am I going to do?!"
"Well, for one, you can stop talking to yourself. And stop pacing, you're wearing out the carpet."
Gertrude's blood ran cold. No, it had left her body entirely. Someone was there! There was a guy, listening to her not-so-inner monologue. At least she thought the guy was talking to her, she was too mortified to look up. Somebody up there was apparently listening to her when she asked to die. "Oh well, at least I'll look pretty in my obituary picture."
The stranger started laughing and said "You're doing it again you know. Talking to yourself. Do you make it a habit to think aloud? You know it's quite interesting, I've never met someone who can be so detached to their surroundings and so melodramatic as well"
Okay, now that she was actually paying attention she realized that he was talking to her, insulting her in fact. Rude! Couldn't he see she was having a break down!? Does he have to add to her misery?! Well, fine then! She was fluent in sarcasm. And what was he grinning about exactly? Why was he doing standing there in the first place? Oh she was still in the hallway, that got her grounded enough to look up to him and say "Though I appreciate your apparent concern, I must be going now. Oh look the elevator is here. Have a good day sir."
But the handsome stranger (she had eyes! She was wondering how she could have missed him at all. Is this hotel hosting the competition for hottest man alive?!) just followed her into the elevator and ruined her escape graceful exit. She chanced looking up at him and found him smiling at her, no, he was smirking, or holding back a laugh. She couldn't really tell, but it irked her. She could sense that it was at her expense. So what if she talked a loud when she was frustrated and flustered?! It was a perfectly normal reaction! She was NOT crazy. You know what crazy looks like? Throwing a vase or a hairdryer or a book or whatever is near when you find your fiancé in bed with someone else. But had she done that? No sir she did not! She did the mature thing, she was graceful about it. She held in the anger, the betrayal, the crushed hope, future, dreams, and most importantly, she held in her tears. She slipped out her engagement ring while he was preoccupied and hadn't noticed her yet, walked over to the window, picked up her suitcase and started walking away. That's when he heard her, the lying cheating piece of scum, and jumped out of bed to run after her. She still can't believe he had the audacity to tell her to-
"You're thinking too hard" said the tall, dark stranger, interrupting her thinking process yet again. Gees, she really needed to get away from him. Didn't he see that she needed to think, to comprehend, to make plans…
And that's when the other shoe dropped. Gertrude gasped and started crying.
"Miss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I don't know what I said. I was just trying to get your attention again, the elevator stopped in the lobby about 7 minutes ago and you hadn't gotten out. And now people are staring, please come with me. I have your luggage don't worry."
Gertrude couldn't even remember that she had luggage, she had to take a second to realize that she was indeed in a hotel lobby, the same lobby she was staying at with him before they traveled to France, the city of love. And those thoughts brought about a fresh wave of tears. Gertrude looked up at the stranger, who seemed like he had no idea what was going on, already regretting talking to the crazy woman with mascara running down her cheeks. She needed to get away, needed space and time, needed privacy to fall apart. So Gertrude did the only logical thing a person would do in such a situation: she ran away, literally.
Okay, it wasn't as dramatic as she made it sound in her head, she had just run to the powder room to collapse on their amazingly comfortable couch. That's the one good thing about he-who-must-not-be-named (and no, she wasn't talking about Voldemort. Why would she talking about him anyway!? Get with the program people!), the fiancé, well ex. She needed to remind herself of that now, he was her ex-fiancé now! What was she saying? Right! The one good thing about him is how he loved what he called the little luxuries in life. They included 5 Star hotels. And what she learned in their eight year relationship is that they all hid the best couches in their bathrooms. It was a very well-kept secret. It was the same in every hotel she's been to, from London to Madrid: the lobbies all had that art-deco furniture that's too stiff to sit on for more than 10 minutes without having a sore back (and bum). The piano bar, usually located right next to the lobbies, had soft music, inviting atmosphere, and really pretty chairs. But the best part was always the restrooms where you found ottomans, couches you could easily fall asleep on, any perfume you could think of and all kinds of exotic tiny bars of soap. They always brought her ease of mind. She never talked to herself there. Just one whiff of lavender-jasmine soap calmed her nerves.
Yes. Finally. Here she could do it. She could pull herself together and think of a plan! Running to her parents was obviously out of the question, not because she was 25 and people her age don't do that, but because they'd either take her back in, reminding her of what an ungrateful, reckless child she had been for the rest of her life, while dictating her every move since she obviously could not be trusted to make her own decisions. Or, they would turn her down and tell her not to be silly and just marry the man she had thrown away her entire future for years ago. What's one indiscretion or two as long as it's done behind closed doors and no one knows about, her mother would say. Her father would pour them both a drink and tell her not to take it personally, that men needed to "de-stress", and to think about all the committees she would join, all the charities she'd be helping, that she wouldn't even have time to notice or be bothered by her future husband's "incidents". That's the word he'd use…. Incidents.
And how did she know that? Because that's exactly what he had told her cousin after she had come to him, asking for support when she'd file the divorce papers. Gertrude was 14 back then, but she could still repeat that conversation word for word to this day.
No. that was NOT happening to her. Miranda was only 22, married to her high-school sweetheart, she hadn't even graduated from Yale before they said their I Do's. She was older, wiser. It's true that she didn't go to college because she was following him from country to country on his business trips, but she had life experience. She was tough.
Gertrude got up from the couch, looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw determination. Now that she had a clear head, she knew what she needed to do to get out of this bind: think and plan! You could move mountains if you had a good plan. Right?
So what if she was homeless, had no higher education, had no work experience and only had about $800 to her name?