Hotel Ruby

  Well, at least she grabbed the salted caramel flavor chocolates. They’re my favorite. I glance around the counter one last time and notice the postcards. One catches my attention, and I pluck it off the plastic rack. It’s a painted portrait of the Hotel Ruby, the massive front doors and leaded windows. The golden lights shining on the trees, setting off the entire scene in magic. “Stay Tonight. Stay Forever” is typed in black on the side.

  “Astrid,” I say, sliding the postcard across the counter. “Can you add this in?”

  She flicks her eyes to the picture and then to me, seeming slightly annoyed that I’m not taking her advice to “let it go.” She rings up the card and shoves it into the bag with the chocolates, telling me the total. I hand over a few bills, and while waiting for the change, I see the other employee has finished stocking the shelves. There’s an empty cart sitting there, but he’s gone.

  “Here you go,” Astrid says, holding up the bag. I thank her as I take my items, then start for the door, already thinking about what I’ll write to Ryan on the postcard. “And hon,” the cashier calls. I turn back to look at her, and she smiles. “Welcome to the Ruby.”

  Upstairs I shower and put on makeup. As I get ready, I open the box of chocolates and pop a piece into my mouth. The first bite is sweet and rich, but as I continue to chew, there’s an aftertaste that reminds me of turned milk.

  “Bleh,” I say, opening my mouth to let the chocolate fall into the trash can with a thunk. I rinse out my mouth and then inspect the box, trying to see if there’s an expiration date. When I find nothing strange, I close up the box and dump the entire thing in the garbage. “That was a waste,” I say, clicking off the bathroom light and heading back into my room.

  I sit on my bed and bring the room service menu onto my lap. The postcard lies next to me on the comforter. I grab the pen from the nightstand and blow out a steadying breath. Leaning back against the pillows, I move the postcard onto the menu so I can write.

  But after close to twenty minutes the words won’t come. They’re too big, too broad, to fit in the stroke of a pen. Maybe Astrid was right—I should let it go. Every minute I sit here, I regret more, and the guilt is threatening to eat me up. In an attempt to cut off the pain, I quickly scratch a message on the postcard and sign it.

  I’m sorry for everything.

  —Audrey

  When I’m done, I hop up from the bed, tucking the postcard into my back pocket, and slip on my sandals. I’ll take this down to the front desk and have them mail it. And then I’ll be done. It’ll be over. I’ll let it be over.

  Afterwards I’ll keep my eyes out for Elias, the gorgeous distraction. I have no plans of pulling a Daniel and hooking up with a stranger, but I definitely liked the guy in the suit. I think he sort of liked me, too. It’s nice to feel attracted to somebody again.

  I grab my keycard and head out the door.

  At the elevator I smooth down my hair, since it’s hell-bent on frizzing out and making me look crazy. I’m trying to mat down my part when the doors open. My heart skips. Elias is inside the elevator, resting against the mirrored wall.

  “Audrey Casella,” he says, stepping aside to make space directly next to him. “You’re still here.” He darts a look at the floor number and then back at me. “What an unexpected surprise.”

  “You’re telling me,” I say, blushing under his attention. “My father’s letting us stay a few more days, and normally I would wait until I could crash your fancy party to bump into you, but I’ve been told I need an invitation. Not at all pretentious.” He chuckles, and I glance sideways at him. “Hey. You lost the suit.”

  “I look great without it.”

  I laugh, and stare down at the floor—sure that he can tell exactly how thrilled I am to bump into him. My pink toes are neon against the classic colors in the elevator, the grays and reds, and I shift my eyes to Elias’s shoes: soft brown moccasins. He has on khaki shorts, a button-down white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair is tucked behind his ears, although a few strands have fallen forward.

  He’s taller than I remember, and as I continue to check him out, I realize he’s smiling and staring straight ahead. I follow his gaze to our reflections in the elevator doors. When I meet Elias’s eyes in the shiny surface, he winks. I smile and look away.

  The elevator stops and the bell dings for the lobby.

  “Where are you off to now?” Elias motions for me to exit first when the doors slide back. “I’m certainly open to changing my plans.”

  I turn toward him, the rectangle in my back pocket making me feel like I’m cheating. On whom, I’m not exactly clear. “I’m, um . . . on my way to mail a postcard to my ex-boyfriend.”

  “I’m a little jealous,” Elias says, despite the curve at the corner of his mouth that says otherwise.

  “Don’t be. It’s an apology for being a terrible girlfriend.”

  “That’s incredibly polite of you,” Elias says with a laugh. We start across the lobby, our steps deliberately slow to draw out our time together. “Can’t say any of my ex-girlfriends would have bothered,” he says. “Your boyfriend . . .” He pauses, waiting for me to supply the name.

  “Ryan.”

  “Ryan,” he continues, “must be a great guy. Either that or you were truly awful.”

  “A bit of both, I think.”

  “I hope you never have to be that kind to me.”

  We reach the deserted front desk, and I flash Elias an apologetic smile. “Don’t think I’ll be here long enough for us to reach any official status, so you should be safe,” I tell him.

  Elias turns, resting his back against the counter so he can look out over the lobby. “I’m not afraid of commitment,” he says.

  “I am.”

  “Goddamn, you’re interesting.” Elias peeks sideways at me, a wry smile on his lips. “Let me steal you away for a little bit. Give you that tour.”

  I’m seriously considering his offer when the door to the back office opens and Kenneth walks out. He smiles brightly, like he’s pleased to find us waiting. Elias glances back but doesn’t acknowledge him. Kenneth doesn’t miss a beat, though.

  “Mr. Lange,” he says, nodding to Elias. “Ah, Miss Casella. You’re still here. What can we do for you?”

  This is actually way more awkward than I considered. I take a step away from Elias and pull the postcard from my back pocket. “I was looking to mail this?” I say in a hushed voice. I slide the card across the counter, and Kenneth stares down without touching it. When he doesn’t respond, I clear my voice to sound steadier. “I don’t have any stamps,” I say. “I thought maybe—”

  “I’ll take care of it right away,” Kenneth says, folding his hands in front of him. He doesn’t go on, he doesn’t check the address. I wait a long moment, but his face is a portrait of pleasantness. I thank him and turn to Elias, widening my eyes to let him know the concierge is being weird.

  Elias’s lips hint at a smile, but he straightens them and nods to Kenneth politely before taking my hand to lead me away. When we’re across the lobby, his fingers slide from mine, the sensation sending chills over my skin. We both look back to where Kenneth is standing. He watches us, but then the concierge picks up the postcard and disappears into the back room.

  “Okay,” I start, “what is the deal with that guy?”

  Elias groans like he has no idea where to begin and really doesn’t care to. “You already told me you wouldn’t be here long enough to send me a very polite rejection,” he says. “So you shouldn’t spend your time guessing the intentions of the concierge. What you should do”—he holds out his hand—“is come with me.”

  “And where are you going?” I ask with mock suspicion.

  He laughs and lowers his hand. “To hell, probably. But first I was thinking of sneaking you around the Ruby. Kenneth will hate it.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to spend our time worrying about him.”

  “I’ll do the worrying for us both,” Elias
says. “Kenneth’s only concern is making sure the Ruby runs properly. He also likes to check in to make sure I’m not getting into trouble.” Elias purses his lips. “I always seem to find it, though.”

  “You should try exhibiting some self-control.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Getting into trouble with Elias sounds like an interesting way to spend my Wednesday afternoon. But I don’t really understand why he’s at the Ruby. Does he live in a hotel?

  “What exactly do you do here, Elias?” I ask with a laugh. “Unless you’re Eloise, I highly doubt—”

  He takes my hand again to tug me forward. “Later,” he says with a mischievous smile. “Because right now I have a completely inspired idea, but”—he glances back at the desk to check for Kenneth—“we don’t want the concierge to see us.”

  “Sounds like you’re looking for trouble again.”

  “Indeed,” Elias says. We walk into the hallway, and I crane my neck as we pass the restaurant, surprised when I find my father still inside, now talking with Kenneth. How did the concierge get over there so fast?

  My dad gets to his feet, his arms gesturing wildly as he and Kenneth engage in what appears to be a heated conversation. My father takes Kenneth’s arm, desperate. And then, suddenly, as if he knew I was here, Kenneth’s dark gaze snaps to me. Dread falls around my shoulders; my breath catches.

  “Come on,” Elias says, oblivious to Kenneth’s new location. He takes my arm, and then we’re next to each other again, starting off down the hallway. I wonder momentarily what my father and Kenneth were arguing about. Was it about me? But then Elias laughs, and his fingers slide down my arm to take my hand. The sensation on my skin makes my heart race, draws me completely into his world. It’s been so long since I’ve wanted something—someone. I forget everything else.

  “Don’t freak out,” Elias says, his dimples deepening with his smile. “But I was thinking we could start at the spa. Namely, the steam room?”

  Hot and sweaty while wearing a towel. I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this. “Interesting suggestion,” I say.

  “Yes, I thought it was brilliant.” We both laugh, and then he tugs me toward the frosted glass doors at the end of the hallway.

  I’ve been in a steam room only once or twice, after working out at the gym. But the YMCA’s white-tiled floors and benches have nothing on this place. The smell of cedar immediately hits my nose as we walk into the small room, a light fog hanging in the air. We have the place to ourselves, and I cross the wet floor to the benches. I sit first, expecting Elias to take a spot next to me, but he goes next to the water bucket and sits down.

  When we walked into the spa, the woman at the desk didn’t even glance at us, instead smiling at her phone like she was reading a text. I imagined Kenneth wouldn’t be at all happy, but Elias only put his finger to his lips and pulled us past the receptionist. A girl in a bright-white dress stopped us then, greeting Elias with a kiss on the cheek. I didn’t roll my eyes; my time as Ryan’s girlfriend was a crash course in handling jealously. Not that he would have strayed.

  Elias asked the girl if we could borrow towels, and she shot him a disapproving look before grabbing a large, fluffy towel and extending it in my general direction. Like Catherine at the party, this girl didn’t appear very pleased to see Elias talking with me. I thanked her and took the towel.

  I changed in the bathroom and then met Elias in front of the steam room, a little stunned to see him without his shirt. Of course, I was standing in a towel as well, but I could barely formulate a sentence that didn’t start with “Wow . . .”

  Elias is not Ryan—he’s not bulked up, thick and strong. Instead he’s incredibly tall and thin, fit, with muscles corded around his frame. I actually like it better. Being with Ryan always made me feel a little self-conscious, like I should be working out instead of chowing down on movie theater popcorn.

  I expected some recognition that I was also nearly naked, but Elias only looked me over once and then opened the door to the room.

  As we sit here now, the room is certainly warm. I settle back against the heated wood bench behind me, staring across the room at Elias. He takes a ladleful of water and pours it over the hot rocks, the spitting steam hisses, quickly enveloping the room. The vapor reaches me, hard to breathe in. But it’s intoxicating, the pure heat licking my skin.

  Elias stands and then comes over to where I am, climbing up to take the bench above me. I reposition myself, my elbow on his seat as I rest my chin on my arm. Elias lays his head against the wall and then looks down at me. Moisture has started to gather on his face, his collarbone. I’m feeling altogether seduced.

  “Why did you send that postcard earlier?” he asks, his voice rougher in the thickened air. “What exactly did you have to apologize for, Audrey?”

  I exhale, my muscles relaxed and loose. “For not loving him enough,” I say quietly. “For trying and failing. But worst of all, for not telling him even though I’m sure he knew. I was a coward, and he deserved better.”

  Elias closes his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Sometimes we’re with the wrong people for all the right reasons. Would it surprise you if I told you I could relate? Only I didn’t try to love her, and I certainly didn’t apologize.”

  “That sounds harsh,” I say, fairly certain he’s talking about the girl my brother’s been sneaking around with. But since Elias just admitted he didn’t have feelings for her, bringing up Catherine seems kind of pointless. “Why were you with her, then?” I ask anyway, hoping for a bit more detail.

  Elias is quiet for a long moment, but then he opens his eyes and sits forward, elbows on his knees. His skin has grown pink in the heat of the steam room. “It was expected,” he says. “And even when I told her my feelings, she didn’t care. She thought we belonged together no matter what.” He looks at me, really looks at me. “Now that, Audrey,” he whispers, “is a terrible girlfriend.”

  There’s a sudden loneliness in his expression, even with our bodies close together, wet with steam and sweat. I connect to it—his melancholy mirroring my own. For an instant I’m not alone. Not with him. It’s weird, because the more Ryan tried to give me, the lonelier I felt. And yet this stranger has broken into my world and taken up space.

  Elias laughs, dragging his gaze from mine, and lies back on his bench. “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he says toward the ceiling. “It’s too soon for me to kiss you. I haven’t charmed you nearly enough.”

  I put my fingers on my lips, covering my smile. “I think you’re doing pretty well,” I say, making him laugh again.

  “Yes, but if I’m going to practice that restraint you talked about,” he responds, “then we’d better get out of here before this heat clouds your better judgment. Come on.” He climbs down from the bench and then helps me up. I grip my towel, keeping it tight around me, even though a knot has formed in my stomach. I take Elias’s arm, ready to pull him back, but as he opens the door, the cool air rushes in, bringing me back to my senses. The steam quickly clears, along with the overwhelming desire, and I find Elias watching me.

  “We’ll skip the massages,” he teases. “You should definitely put some clothes on. Meet you out front?”

  I agree, still a little shaken from my brush with complete and utter lack of self-control. And when we part, I head into the locker room to rinse off in the shower, setting the temperature to cold.

  Chapter 4

  After tying my damp hair up in a bun, I head to the entrance of the spa and find Elias chatting with the girl who gave me the towel earlier. When I walk out, she casts an uneasy stare in my direction, then tells Elias good-bye and leaves to go about her job. Not at all awkward.

  Elias smiles broadly as I approach, his hair slicked to the side and his cheeks flush from the steam. “You’re radiant,” he tells me. “I am completely under your spell, Audrey.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say like he’s full of shit. But I enjoy the compliment, esp
ecially when I’m feeling just as interested. “Now where to?” I ask. “I’ll have to check in with my dad at some point; this day isn’t carefree.”

  Elias pulls open the door and we walk out, energized from our time at the spa. We’re paused at the entrance of the lobby while we contemplate our next step, when I see my brother walk out from the restaurant. He’s glaring down at his phone, his eyebrows pulled together.

  “Hey,” I call to him. Next to me Elias straightens, sliding his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Daniel comes over, holding up his phone helplessly.

  “I can’t get a signal in here,” he says. “I’ve seen other people using their phones. Rot in hell, AT&T.” He stops and looks at me. “Why’s your face so red? What have you been doing?” He squints at Elias. “Who’s this?”

  Elias stretches out his hand. “Elias Lange,” he says. “And you are?”

  “Her older brother.” Daniel shakes Elias’s hand, clenching his fingers in a way that tells me he’s squeezing harder than necessary. Elias doesn’t even flinch.

  Daniel takes his role of protective brother seriously. Before Ryan, whenever Daniel didn’t like a guy I was dating, he’d wait on the porch with a Louisville Slugger resting on his shoulder. But then there was Ryan, and everyone loved Ryan. My brother hasn’t had to stand up for me in a while. In a way, I’m touched. I’m also glad he left his baseball gear in Phoenix.

  “I’m heading to the pool,” Daniel says to me, turning his back on Elias. “Go grab your bathing suit.”

  “The weather’s perfect for a swim,” Elias interjects, seeming amused by my brother’s lack of manners. “It’s sometimes overcast this time of day, but it seems—”

  “Now, how do you know my sister?” Daniel interrupts, spinning to him. He’s pretending to be confused, which makes him all the more obnoxious. He shoots me the same look and I scoff. I don’t know Elias half as well as Daniel knows Catherine.