Shine Not Burn

“Well, some gentlemen came to reception this morning insisting that we held their bags for them yesterday, but they were unable to produce a claim check. We allowed them into the baggage room and, well …”

I sighed. “Spit it out. I’m not going to be mad.” At least I didn’t think I was going to be.

“Well, they identified what they claimed to be their bags and we allowed them to take them.”

“What did the bags look like?”

He whispered to someone on his end before answering. “Four duffel bags, ma’am. Like athletic bags.”

It was the ma’am that he used that made something click in my head. “Was one of them wearing a cowboy hat?”

“Yes! In fact, all of them were.”

I nodded, sadness washing over me. He’d left. Without even a goodbye. Or maybe with a goodbye but not one I remembered. “It’s okay. It was my friend’s bag. You’re cool, I’m not mad.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, good, good, good, that is wonderful news. And for your trouble and stress, please allow me to offer you and your guests a free voucher for another night’s stay with us.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “I’m leaving today.”

“It has no expiration. Surely you’ll be back someday, yes?”

No. “Sure, maybe. I’ll come get it when I check out.”

“Wonderful, perfect. Thank you, Miss Andie.”

“You’re welcome. Bye.”

I hung up the phone, staring at the claim ticket. Why did it bother me so much that the cowboy had taken his bags and gone? I looked at the trashcan and stretched my hand out to toss the ticket in, but at the last second, I didn’t. Instead, I walked slowly over to my bag and shoved it into the side pocket.

Shaking my head at my own silliness, I went about the work of getting ready to leave. Our flight was leaving soon and we had breakfast to wrangle and a taxi to hire. I ignored the haunting memories that were telling me there was something I should be remembering.





Chapter Fourteen





TWO YEARS LATER…





I FROWNED at the stack of messages on my desk. Each one was worse than the last, with phone numbers missing, names misspelled, sometimes with nothing but a name. I read the last one with disbelief as I pressed the button on my phone that would make the light blink on Ruby’s: ‘Someone called you about something related to the Blakenship file.’

“Yes,” came her clipped voice.

“Rubes, could you come in here?”

“The name is Ruby.”

“Okaaaay. Ruby, could you come in here, please?”

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

That moment turned out to be ten minutes long, and I’d bet a box of doughnuts she pretended to be busy the entire time just so she could make me wait. These days, Ruby did everything she could to piss me off. It had to stop now, though. We had to have the confrontation that had building for months. I had too much on my plate to deal with her shit anymore.

She stood in the doorway, her back so stiff she looked like she had a pool cue up her big butt. She never relaxed around me anymore. It was all business, all the time. I wasn’t even allowed to call her Rubes anymore.

“Have a seat, please.” I motioned to the chairs in front of me.

“I prefer to stand,” she said, lifting her chin a fraction higher.

I sighed loudly. “Ruby, please. Don’t make me lose my temper again. I’ve had a really long day and a really long week, too.”

A fake-confused expression bloomed across her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I the one to blame for your temper now? I suppose I’m also to blame for you losing the Goldman motion and for you getting that speeding ticket on your way to work last week.” She folded her hands casually in front of her ample waist. “What should I do now? Apologize? Or maybe you want me to resign.” She raised both eyebrows at me, still with the fake innocence thing going. It made me want to slap the look off her face.

Her words hurt, cutting me through with their mean, serrated edges. I held up the stack of messages she’d taken while I was out. “You’re to blame for a lot of things, but right now I’d just like to talk to you about these.” I decided to save the conversation about letters never sent and forms mis-filed for another day. She was a handful when she was cranky and right now, she was definitely cranky.

She said nothing, she just stood there giving me silent attitude.

“Ruby, please don’t make me ask again. Come inside, shut the door, and sit down.”

She hesitated a few more seconds, just to let me know she could and would, and then she did as I asked.

Once she’d settled herself in the chair across from me, I let some of the heat out of my voice. “What’s going on? Can you please just tell me? I can’t take much more of the stress, I have to be honest with you.”

She broke eye contact with me and stared at a paperweight on my desk. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Ruby, please look at me.”

She looked at the ceiling, blinking her eyes deliberately.

“I want to know what happened.”