Is he already defensive? I keep talking anyway. “Well,” I say, “she kind of sucks, Daniel.” I hold up my hand, counting off the reasons why on my fingers. One: “She’s rude to me, borderline threatening.” Two: “Joshua—the valet—actually said that she stabbed him in the gut—like with a knife. And I’m not sure he was joking.” I hold up a third finger. “And she’s Elias’s ex. He says she has a bad temper and that you should be careful.”
Daniel is so still for a moment that I think he didn’t hear me. But then I notice the anger welling up, and I swallow down any more reasons I was about to give.
“That’s awfully convenient, don’t you think, Aud?” he asks. “The guys are the ones saying this about her.”
I laugh off the beginning of his argument. “Sure, Daniel. She’s the toast of the Ruby and everyone’s in love with her. Or,” I allow sarcastically, “she’s a whack job who’s going to murder-suicide you in a jealous rage before we check out. Sleep with one eye open.”
“You don’t know her like I do,” he says, ignoring my joke. “She’s not that person anymore. None of us are the same anymore, Audrey. Things change.”
“What?” I curl my lip. “You’re starting to sound like Dad. Look, how do you know she’s not just—”
Daniel puts his hands on my upper arms, bending so he can look me in the eyes. “Stop worrying about me,” he says. There’s a sharp pain—rejection. Even though he doesn’t say it, he’s telling me I’m not Mom. He must notice the hurt in my face, because he forces a smile. “Besides,” he adds, “I can handle myself in a catfight if I need to.”
I groan and brush his hands away. He’s not going to listen to me about Catherine, and I guess it doesn’t really matter. Tomorrow, Daniel and I will be on our way to our grandmother’s. Or back to Phoenix, I think hopefully.
“Fine,” I tell him with an exhale. “Do what you want. I’m going to wander for a while. But if you change your mind about the movie—”
“I won’t,” Daniel says quickly. He winces and rubs at his scalp. “Plus my head is still killing me,” he mumbles. “I’ll see you later.” Partly dazed, he turns to leave. I watch him walk away, looking unsteady as he gets into the elevator.
The hallway is wide, with gold-framed pictures, quiet and still. Peaceful. I pause in front of a picture labeled THE HOTEL RUBY, 1936. There, in black and white, is a wide shot of the building itself. Possibly more impressive than it is now, if only because of its age. Standing in front is a crowd of people, well dressed and smiling. Are they the stockholders who helped erect this place? I lean closer, trying to find one who might look a bit like Elias, a peek into his past.
“Now it just looks like I’m stalking you.”
I jump, and laugh when I find Elias resting his shoulder against the patterned wallpaper a few feet away. “Are you?” I ask. He shrugs, admitting that maybe he is. He holds up a rose, and I’m ten shades of flattered as I take it and smell it. Light and powdery. Utterly charming.
Elias smiles, and it’s the strangest thing—I know we’re both embarrassed, shy, about our almost kiss in his room, but I don’t think either of us plans to stop meeting like this. With my heart thumping, I go to stand next to him against the wall.
“How are you today?” he asks. “I was absolutely miserable after you left last night.”
“I’m sure,” I say teasingly. “If it helps, I had a nice chat with Catherine in the elevator, so I think I beat you out for biggest buzz kill.”
“Ah, yes. You win.” His glance drifts past me, and it’s clear that he doesn’t want to talk about Catherine. I’m glad we can agree.
“I’ve actually had a terrible day,” I tell him, still trying to process what happened at lunch. “I think I’m having a bad reaction to drinking, or to searching for ghosts, or”—I smile—“to staying up with strange boys until dawn.”
Rather than laugh, Elias shifts in concern. “What sort of reaction?”
I wave my hand to let him know I’m not taking it too seriously, or at least, that’s what I want him to think. “Cracked skulls, blood, the usual,” I say, immediately filling with unease at the memory. It wasn’t real, I tell myself. Daniel was fine just a second later.
Elias widens his eyes at the gory details, and I quickly change the subject. “So I have nothing to do,” I say, twisting the flower nervously between my fingers. “Planned to spend the day exploring. Would you . . .” I tilt my head, waiting for him to agree before I have to ask.
“Like to sneak around with you?” he offers.
We’ve both inched forward, and the warmth of his body radiates to mine. I smile my response, totally crazy about him. Addicted to our attraction.
“You’re giving me that look again,” he warns, his gaze lingering at my lips. “I hope that means I’ve convinced you my intentions are mostly honorable.”
“Mostly?” I smile. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I can handle mostly.”
“That’s good, I suppose. But the truth is”—his body comes maddeningly close to mine—“if we keep at this, I’m not sure I’ll want to let you go in twenty-four hours.”