“Neither do you.”
“No, but I clearly am dragonish,” I said with a complacence that I realized was fully at odds with the fact that less than a day before, I refused to accept the fact that there even were such things as dragons in human form, let alone that Jian was one of them. “Did you see the way I kicked Elton out of the window? That was a serious dragon move going on there.”
He gave a little chuckle and escorted us into the empty elevator when the doors opened. “It was indeed, but I believe you’re judging Gabriel unfairly because he wasn’t there to help us fight the demons. I have no doubt he’s capable of equally impressive dragon moves, as you call them.”
I kept the door from closing and nodded toward the reception desk. “Maybe. Do you want me to invite them or not?”
Rowan shrugged. “I’m sure you’re right and they can find their own lunch. I just thought you’d like someone relatable that you could talk to.”
“Another time, perhaps,” I said, knowing full well that I’d be on a plane heading back home the following day.
By myself.
Without Rowan.
And worse, without the likelihood of ever seeing him again.
I grew morose at that thought, a feeling that stayed with me while I bustled Mrs. P into the room we would share for a few hours until she went off to her cruise and made her a cup of tea while trying to keep her from confiscating everything she could see.
Finally, I got her to relax on the bed with her feet up for a little bit. “I told Rowan to meet us here in half an hour, which gives me to time to call the tour company in Cairo and make sure everything is copacetic for your trip. No, you can’t take that. The Gideon people put it there for others to use… oh, what the hell. Knock yourself out. You might want to read up on the bit about thou shalt not steal, though.”
It took a good fifteen minutes, but at last I worked my way through to someone at the cruise company who spoke English. “Hello. I’m confirming the arrival of Mrs. Papadopolous for the Duat River Cruise leaving tonight at eight p.m. Am I correct in the assumption that she’ll need to be to the ship an hour before sailing?”
“Yes, that is very correct,” answered a man in lyrical English. “Let me check the records. Papadopolous, you say? I do not have anyone by that name.”
Panic hit me. I hadn’t even thought about what I’d do if something was munged up with Mrs. P’s reservation. “Uh… are you sure? Her grandson told me he booked her reservation himself. Maybe you could look again?”
“Does Madame have another name? I do not see Papadopolous.”
Unreasonably, I felt the urge to burst into tears. We’d come such a long way and been through so much in the last twenty-four hours. “She doesn’t have another name, no.”
“I do,” Mrs. P said, looking up from the TV where she’d put on a channel of Middle Eastern music videos. “I am known by many names.”
“I doubt very much if your grandson would have booked you under your hoochie-coo dancer name,” I told her, my hand over the mouthpiece. “Did he book it under your maiden name or something?”
“I have never been married,” she said with a sniff, and turned up the music video. “My beau gives me much leeway in this world, but he wouldn’t allow me to bind myself to another.”
“What is your maiden name?” I asked, more than a little desperate now.
“My name when I was a maiden?” She smiled. Oddly, it made her faded eyes look brighter. “Aset.”
“Asset?” I asked, confusion now adding to my frustration. “Like something a company has?”
“No, Aset.” She spelled it for me, putting the stress on the first letter of the word. “It is my child-name.”
That sounded like a maiden name to me. “Would you have a reservation for a Mrs. Aset?” I asked, uncovering the mouthpiece.
“Madame Aset? But of course.” The man sounded so matter-of-fact it confused me even more. “We have the reservation for Madame Aset and companion in Grand Suite B. It is our finest accommodation, you understand.”
“Awesome. I’ll have her to the ship by seven… wait, did you say Mrs. Aset and companion? What companion?”
“We were not informed of the individual’s name. Our understanding was that information would be provided upon boarding. Is there anything else I can help with?”
“No, thank you, that will be all.” I hung up and looked at Mrs. P, who was now eying a woven cotton wall covering with a speculative eye. “Who is going on the cruise with you?”
She gave me a pitying look. “Has the prospect of lunch with your man caused you to lose your wits? You are my guide.”