“Right. I gotta run. I’ll check in tomorrow.” I hit END and hoist my bag onto my shoulder—so ready to get off this bus.
Entering the hotel, I glance around. This place is completely cool. It’s two large buildings linked together by a wall of glass-framed windows. By far one of the most beautiful pieces of architecture I’ve ever seen, with its old railings and wooden trim. In its day it must have been a place to see.
I get us all checked in and luckily we each have our own room. Garrett takes the room keys while I sign for everything. When I turn around, everyone has disappeared. The lobby is oddly quiet, but the bar is not. A happy hour sign reads TWO FOR ONE. The elevators are to the right of the bar and Leif stands near them, just staring off into space.
Approaching him, I ask, “How’d it go?”
“Not well. She’s in love with someone else. That’s the real reason she wanted to break up.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks. But better to find out now. How about I take you out tonight? Get your mind off everything,” I ask as I press the UP button.
“Just tell me where and when.”
“There’s a club in the warehouse district with a band playing I’ve heard a lot about. I’m going to check them out later. Meet me in the lobby around ten.” The elevator doors open and we get in.
“I plan to get really shitfaced. I’m just warning you now.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” I remember the shit River and Dahlia went through last year when I had to take care of his sorry ass after he tried to drown himself in booze rather than tell her what he knew. Not that I haven’t done the same many times. So, shit, a guy whose girl broke up with him—I can handle that.
CHAPTER 7
Blurred Lines
Ordinarily, I love staying in a hotel—a room to myself, privacy, a decent shower, and a comfortable bed. But by the time I exit the elevator a few hours later, I already miss having Ivy close. So I’m not only surprised but somewhat elated when I hit the lobby and see her sitting in a plush chair near the lounge. I didn’t realize she was coming with us—not that I mind. She’s on the phone, so I just nod a quick hello to her. She gives me a slight smile in return. She’s a knockout in a black minidress and flat sandals. Her hair is down and straight, with a few strands draping over her eyes. I wish I could push them aside so I could see the deep blue of her eyes. I find Nix and Garrett standing near the bar, deep in conversation. Leif doesn’t seem to be down here yet. The bar is open to the lobby, so as I walk up to them I catch the conversation.
“Who’s Phoebe?” Garrett asks Nix.
“That teacher I met at the party at the Pelican. She’s from San Francisco.”
“Sorry. No recollection of you hanging with any girl, especially a smart one.”
“Fuck off,” Nix snaps.
“What’s all the talk about a girl?” I ask them.
Garrett knocks shoulders with Nix. “This guy over here invited a chick to fly out and meet him, and she arrives tonight.”
“No shit. Are you serious?” I’m somewhat impressed that Nix cares about anyone enough to make an extra effort. It’s the first I’ve ever seen him do something like this.
“Fuck, I remember her now. She was the one wearing that slinky purple number with the really low-cut neck, wasn’t she?” Garrett makes a gesture with his fists on his chest and shakes them.
Nix scowls. “You’re so immature, Flynn. Get a life and get out of mine.”
Leif walks across the lobby wearing neatly pressed jeans and a starched button-down—slightly more dressed up than the rest of us—Ivy excluded, of course. Who the hell irons their jeans anyway? Ivy notices him and quickly gets off the phone, and they both approach us at the same time.
“Are you doing okay?” she asks Leif.
He nods. “Never better. I’m ready to let off some steam on the dance floor.”
“Are we going to a dance club?” she asks, looking my way.
“I’m not sure if it’s a dance club per se, but they must have a dance floor since there’s a band.”
She giggles. “Still don’t dance?”
I give a slight shake of my head and our eyes find each other and lock together for a moment. A flush passes over her face. Was her question a slip? This is the first acknowledgment she’s made out loud in front of others that she knows me from years ago. The softness in her voice and the look in her eyes tell me she remembers how she used to try to get me on the dance floor. Her only victory was her senior prom, where I danced every slow dance with her.
“Let’s hit it. I’m ready to party.” Leif steps in, oblivious to the connection Ivy and I are sharing.