Hotel Ruby (10 page)

“Find me after,” I say, agreeing to his earlier suggestion. I'm only slightly embarrassed when I hear one of the others laugh, because when Elias's eyes meet mine, I'm overcome with a sense of comfort, a sense of purpose. I want to spend more time with him. I want him.

Elias's mouth spreads into a broad smile. “I will definitely find you,” he says, sounding relieved. He then crosses the rooftop, his shoes clapping on the cement.

My stomach flutters with the sort of nervous energy you get just before an impending kiss. That pull, the quickening heartbeat. The tension. It's been so long since I've wanted to be kissed. I nearly forgot what it felt like. I nearly forgot how to feel.

A
fter Elias leaves the rooftop, Lourdes leans in to me, the smell of my mother's detergent clinging to her, making me feel as if we've been friends for years. “He likes you,” she teases. “Eli is achingly sweet on you.”

I bite down on my lip to keep my smile from splitting ear to ear. It could be the alcohol, but I'm dizzy with this rekindled emotion. The flirtation is invigorating.

“It's about time,” Joshua says. “And hey, if you break his heart, you can always date me.” He tips back his drink to get the last drop. “I like the bad ones.”

Although Joshua's attractive, he's also kind of slimy. “Not interested,” I reply, making him laugh. He shrugs and tells me it's my loss.

Music continues to play from an unseen radio, and I turn to check out the others on the roof. I recognize a few of them from around the hotel, but it's hard to tell who they are now that they're out of uniform. The door to the stairwell opens and two men walk onto the roof. They immediately stand out—long hair, black T-shirts. Neither talks as they move past the staff and pause at the ledge. The taller of the men removes a pack of cigarettes and shakes
two out. The men smoke, chatting as they look over the grounds of the Ruby. I can't quite place what's different about them, but when I turn around, Lourdes is staring at me. She pulls her brows together like she's confused. I look back to the men, but they've already gone inside.

“Do you know the story of the Ruby?” Lourdes asks in a hushed voice. Pink rises high on her cheeks, excitement making her eyes flash mischievously. The other staff members lean in like this is their favorite part. “They say this place is haunted,” Lourdes says.

“That's what I heard,” I say, intrigued by the eager looks of the others. I've never been a fan of scary stories—life is scary enough—but in a hotel this old there has to be some fascinating history. “What happened here?” I ask.

The housekeeper beams and the others get comfortable. I'd think it odd, but without cell reception or Wi-Fi for distraction, listening to campfire tales might actually be kind of fun. “The Hotel Ruby was built in 1936,” Lourdes starts, smiling at the others. “It was a playground for the rich and famous. A stationary
Titanic
. And just as tragic.”

The group laughs, but I glance back over my shoulder, feeling more unsettled by the second. Where did those smoking men go? How did they disappear so quickly?

“This place was a legend,” Lourdes says. “When it was built, it was said to have the most majestic ballroom in the West. People flocked from all over: senators, actresses,
tycoons. Elias's family”—she smiles at his name—“was among the stockholders who pulled together to build the hotel in the first place. In fact, they were being honored in the ballroom the night of the fire.”

“Fire,” I repeat. “Did they die?”

“Yes. During the first anniversary party the ballroom caught fire,” Lourdes says. “Sixty-seven guests in all. No one would open the doors for fear the entire hotel would burn down. So they locked them in.”

The crowd quiets around us on the roof, and a sense of melancholy thickens the air. I swear, it's like I feel the Ruby itself sigh. “That's awful,” I say, a little breathlessly. Chills crawl up my arms, and I dart my gaze around at the group. They're transfixed, waiting for Lourdes to finish the story.

“The owners quickly rebuilt—same details, almost like it never happened. The building was sold, and then sold again. There is one constant, though: the party. In honor of those who perished, the Hotel Ruby holds a party every night in that ballroom. Guests come from all over the world to spend an evening with the ghosts there.” Lourdes whispers the last part and then laughs when she sees that she's actually freaking me out. “It's why Kenneth makes sure everything is perfect,” she says, shaking her head. “Otherwise he'll be out on his ass.”

“The Ruby is a tourist trap,” Joshua calls. “Certain guests are required to attend the parties, to keep up appearances. Mingle and mix for the time of their lives. At the
Ruby”—he smiles bitterly—“where you can stay tonight. Or stay forever.”

I didn't get an invite to the party, even though both Daniel and my father did. I don't mention it, though. It's embarrassing. Am I not important enough? Was Daniel right—did I piss someone off? “So do you think this place is really haunted?” I ask.

Joshua opens up the cooler and pulls out another bottle, twisting off the top and then handing it to Lourdes. She thanks him before answering me. “Nearly seventy people were burned alive in the ballroom that night, Audrey. I'd imagine some were pretty traumatized. But don't worry”—she takes a sip—“they're just ghosts.”

“House rules,” Tanya sings out. Again they respond and then toast. I look at Lourdes and she smiles around the lip of her bottle.

“No talk of work in the off-hours,” she explains. “No talk of Kenneth, no talk of our lives outside of the Ruby. Those are our house rules. It makes the job bearable.” She reaches into the cooler and pulls me out a drink. Normally, I wouldn't have a second one, but I'm having fun. I like the house rules. I don't want to talk—think—about my life before or after the Ruby.

The music changes and the mood shifts. At first I don't recognize the song, but the group starts catcalling like they've been waiting for it all night. The tune is cheesy, but at the same time I understand why they like it.

“Who even sings this?” I ask. I remember my mother cranking up the song once or twice in the car when it came on the classic-rock station, but I have no idea who the artist is.

“Who the hell knows anymore,” Joshua says like it's not important. “It's totally eighties, and to Tanya, that's totally awesome.” He smiles at her, but she's already on her feet, swaying to the music.

The chorus begins, and Tanya starts singing, softly at first. I look around at the others, not sure how to react, and they start cheering—telling her to go for it. Then suddenly Tanya clutches her shirt and stretches her other hand toward us, belting out the lyrics.

We all start laughing, and Tanya goes on, rounding the circle of people to offer each of us a partial serenade. She's committed, singing the ballad like it's meant to be sung. At one point she fists her hair and drops to her knees. It's freaking magical.

Eventually the song drifts off into a softer voice, and Tanya, out of breath, climbs to her feet. She bows, looking triumphant. The crowd erupts in cheers, and Joshua puts his fingers between his lips and whistles.

“It never gets old,” one girl says sincerely.

“Thank you,” Tanya says, and collapses next to Lourdes. “I just love that song.”

“I prefer Billie Holiday,” Joshua says, grabbing a new drink. “Or, you know, someone with talent.”

“Music snob,” Tanya says. She leans over and pecks him on the lips, and he licks his lips in response. I'm suddenly and completely confused. Are they the couple? I lift my bottle to take another sip, but find I've finished my drink. Have I been here that long?

“Do you need another?” Lourdes asks when I set down my bottle with a
clink
.

“I'm good,” I say. The song changes again, and it's the same one I heard in the ballroom at the party. Same one I heard in the night. Again I can't quite place it. I close my eyes and try to block out everything else, but I can't understand the lyrics. The melody sounds too slow.

“Hey,” Lourdes says, drawing me out of my daze. When I look at her, she's electric, pulsing with energy. “Want to see some ghosts?” she whispers.

I'm suddenly and completely sure that I don't, not when it feels like fingers are crawling up my spine. But Joshua overhears, and he's already grinning madly. “I don't know,” I say, not wanting to sound like a total chickenshit.

“Come on, Audrey,” Joshua says. “You're only here for a few days. Make the most of it. This is the best part.” A few others have caught on to the conversation and are already buzzing with excitement. Even though I don't believe in ghosts, not really, the Ruby might just be able to convince me. I don't want to be convinced. I like being a skeptic.

“She's scared,” Tanya laughs out. “You can't seriously be scared.”

My cheeks warm with embarrassment, peer pressure at its best, and I glance back to Lourdes. She raises her eyebrows to ask if I'm in. The eerie feeling has subsided, and the excited expressions surrounding me have piqued my curiosity.

“Do you ever really see ghosts?” I ask the housekeeper quietly. Lourdes's red lips pull into a wide grin.

“All the time.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, earning a laugh. I glance around the rooftop to the other staff members beyond our group. They're continuing on in their conversations, their laughter, oblivious to this plan to—

“It's called Wake the Dead,” Lourdes says. “And we only play when someone new hangs out with us. Really,” she says teasingly, “it's for you. So you can't say no.”

“I can,” I correct her. “But I won't this time. As long as you promise to save me if I get possessed or something.”

“Doesn't work that way.” She gives her head a quick shake, and Joshua reaches out his hand to help Lourdes up. Tanya and two others grab their things to join us.

My stomach coils with dread, like it does with the slow ticking of a climbing roller coaster. The few drinks I've had set me spinning momentarily when I stand, but then I'm fine, and following behind Lourdes and Joshua, who has the cooler. On the way across the roof Lourdes pauses at the guy in the army jacket, leaning in close to whisper into his ear. He pulls back to smile at her longingly. She walks
on, and the guy offers me a nod, telling me to have fun, as if the roller coaster is about to drop. At the door I glance back over the roof and then at Lourdes, who smiles, and takes my hand to pull me along.

Rather than taking the regular elevator, Joshua leads us through a series of corridors to an elevator at the back of the hotel. There's a sliding metal gate in front of the door, and a dial for the floors that looks like a golden clock hangs above us. The clanging metal is loud as Joshua slides the gate over and ushers us inside. He slams it shut, and I press myself against the back of the elevator, afraid it's too old to operate. The others don't look at all worried.

“Where are we?” I whisper, grasping the golden railing as the elevator shakes to life.

“This is the staff elevator,” Lourdes says, running her fingers along the burgundy textured wallpaper affectionately. “Most people don't even know it's here. It's original to the Ruby.”

“It's lovely,” I say, although I'm worried this death box won't get us downstairs before it falls apart completely. The ice in the cooler rattles as we struggle along, and I officially meet the two other staff members—Casey, the shy girl from housekeeping, and Warren, who seems nice but wears a perpetual smirk, like he's in on a joke we're not. The six of us are quiet until the elevator shudders to a stop, and I stagger sideways, bumping my shoulder into
the wall. Joshua rips open the gate, and the others quickly walk out. I follow them, glancing up at the dial to check which floor we're on. The dial has stopped in the empty space between the lobby and the basement.

This isn't the basement, at least not that I can tell. It's definitely not where Elias took me earlier. I wonder then what time it is, and how much longer it will be until I see him again. There are no clocks, and I left my phone in my room.

Joshua points ahead to a gray metal door and then pulls a key from his pocket, looking back to smile at us. Outside there is a concrete slab patio, green Dumpsters off to the right, the smell of trash blending with the smell of flowers floating over from the garden around on the other side of the wall. The group doesn't stop here, though. Instead Tanya walks to a plastic bench and lifts the lid. She removes flashlights and starts handing them out. By the time she gets to me, all that's left is a small utility flashlight, as opposed to the handled floodlights the others carry.

Once we move beyond the concrete slab toward an area with trees, the air has cooled. We start across the grass, and the night becomes impossibly dark, pure blackness beyond the edge of the garden. Lourdes and the others are giggling, the beams from their flashlights dancing along the trees and grass. I can't remember what the world looked like beyond the wall of the Hotel Ruby. It didn't seem this dark when we arrived here.