Hotel Ruby (17 page)

“It is,” he allows. “I grew up there.” Elias sets down his cup, pushes it aside, and leans his elbows on the table. He turns to look at the garden, the neatly trimmed shrubbery, the mountain view in the distance. Flowers—roses of several colors, vibrant and fragrant even from here, crowd the landscape. This is easily the best view in the house.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence Elias looks over at me mischievously. “I think I've changed my mind,” he says.

“About what?”

“Taking you back to my room. I'll leave the phone off the hook.”

I laugh, considering the offer. The butterflies in my stomach, the twist of desire. I can't even believe when I hear myself decline. “I can't,” I say, lowering my chin onto my folded arms on the table. “I shouldn't,” I say instead. “No matter how badly I want to.”

“We still have twenty-three hours,” he says, disappointed but not put off. He opens the black bill holder and signs his name with a quick swipe of the pen.

“Twenty-two,” I respond, laughing when he narrows his eyes.

“Come here,” he whispers, tossing the pen aside to lean closer. When I do, he kisses me, sweetly, teasingly, over the table. He runs his lips over mine, and then there's the soft touch of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth. My head spins and I grasp his shirt, to pull him closer still.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Elias and I jump, and I look up to see Joshua, dressed in his Hotel Ruby uniform, not looking at all sorry. He shoots Elias a smug smile and then turns back to me. “The front desk sent me over,” he says. “Your brother is looking for you, Audrey. Probably a good thing that I found you first.” He snorts a laugh and then turns on his heel, heading back inside.

“What is it with you and Joshua?” I ask, sitting up and feeling slightly embarrassed to be caught kissing. I glance around, glad when I see the other tables empty. I didn't even think to look before. Although Joshua was right—I'm definitely glad it was him and not Daniel. That would have been awful.

Elias leans back in his chair, exhaling heavily. “Back when Catherine and I were miserable together, Joshua provided her with a much-needed diversion. I may have punched him in the face a few times because of it.” Elias lifts one shoulder. “It was a long time ago. Sort of comical at this point.”

“You're frenemies,” I tease, but Elias looks confused. An older couple walks onto the patio, and sits at the next table over. They don't acknowledge us, even though Elias nods politely at them.

I want to spend more time outside, carefree with a hot guy and no responsibility, but I shouldn't leave Daniel hanging. I stand, and Elias reaches out to pull me close when I start to walk by. I lean into him, thrilled as he gazes up at me adoringly.

“Come back when you're done?” he asks.

“Are you going to try to convince me to go to your room?”

His dimples deepen, his lips pulling into a slow, sexy smile. “Do you want me to?”

I give him a quick kiss and then hold myself just above him. “Kind of,” I whisper, knowing it's true. And really, who cares what I do with Elias? I'm being hauled away to Elko, Nevada, for the foreseeable future. Why not enjoy my last moments of freedom?

Elias groans, rolling his eyes like I'm the biggest tease to ever live. “Hurry,” he says, and then drags his coffee cup in front of him.

The front desk is empty, so I look for Daniel in the restaurant, but both he and my father are gone. I see Warren busing the table and walk over to meet him.

“Hey, Audrey,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. “You rushed out of here earlier. Everything okay?”

“Fine. I'm looking for my brother, though. Have you seen him?”

Warren glances around, as if Daniel just switched tables without him noticing. Then he snaps his fingers. “Try the ballroom. Your father was talking to another guest about it after you left. Not sure what that was about, though. Other tables.” He motions around the room to prove his point. I thank him and let him get back to work, and then I take the turn down the hall toward the ballroom.

When I get to the double doors, they're closed. I doubt my brother is inside, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I saw the room in all its grandeur two nights ago, but I wonder how it looks without the glittering gowns. I decide to find out. Slowly I pull open the door just a crack and lean my head in to see first if Daniel or anyone else is inside. The room is too dark to see anything beyond the light that's seeping in from the hallway.

No Daniel, but I slip in the door anyway, and find the main light switches on the wall next to the entrance. I flip them on and the center of the room explodes in brilliant color. The reds ooze opulence; the chandelier sparkles, casting rays of light in patterns on the floor. It takes a minute for me to catch my breath, completely charmed by the space. Even so, it's lifeless without the party. A beautiful, dead room. Lonely and tragic.

I think for a moment about Lourdes's story. I have no reason to doubt it, but the tragedy is suffocating, especially
now that I'm in the ballroom. No one tried to save those people, and I almost feel their sadness hanging in the room. They must have fought to live, to get out. What did they think when they realized the doors were locked?

My skin prickles, and I glance around, taking in more of the adornments. Lourdes told me that people come from all over to hang with the ghosts that reside here. The corners in the back of the ballroom are still heavy with shadows. Suddenly this entire place feels like a grave.

Behind me is the soft click of the door shutting, and I turn, startled. My heartbeat starts to hasten, ticking in my ears. I want to blame the wind, but I feel none. I'm sure as hell not going to blame the ghosts.

“Still interested in the party, I see,” a voice calls from across the room. I yelp and spin around, nearly tripping over my crossed ankles. Kenneth stands at the back of the room, and I'm alarmed to think he's been here the entire time. At least, I assume that's Kenneth. His burgundy suit and frame are a match, but his face is hidden in the darkness. I can make out the shape of his bald head, see his pudgy fingers folded in front of him where he rests them against his chest. But not seeing his eyes makes him seem . . . sinister.

I take a step back.

“I'm sorry to inform you,” he continues, not moving any closer, “that an invitation has not become available to you. And as I've told you, the parties are invite only.”

Agitation nudges me. “How did Daniel get one, then? Or my father?”

Kenneth unclasps his hands to hold them out apologetically. “It's up to the Ruby,” he says, as if that makes any sense at all. “Perhaps after you leave, you'll understand their reasoning.”

“Mm . . . perhaps,” I respond sarcastically. I'm about to walk out, chalking this up to
creepy-interaction-with-concierge day
, when Kenneth calls my name. I glance over my shoulder at him, more intimidated than I want to admit. “Yeah?”

“I've noticed you consorting with the staff. Thought I'd mention that interaction between staff and guests is frowned upon. They face reprimands if you keep them from their work.”

“Are you spying on me?” I demand. “And besides, I don't think you can make that rule. They're not your property. They're your employees.”

“As such, they abide by the rules of the Ruby. I enforce them. They will be punished for their disregard. It may be best if you spend the remainder of your stay in your room, Miss Casella. Out of trouble.”

“It may be better if you back off before I report you for harassment to your management company, Kenneth. And just a heads-up, I will let them know how shitty you treat your staff. Have a great day,” I say, mock-saluting him.

I turn back to the door, and behind me there's a sudden and terrifying breeze. A dark, impending echo, like
the rush of an animal behind me, ready to attack.
To eat me alive
, I think. My hand shoots out to grasp the door handle, scared it will be locked somehow, but it turns easily. I yank it open and dart a quick look back at Kenneth, mostly to see if he's still there.

The concierge stands, still half in the shadows, hands folded over his chest again. He steps forward, flooding his face with light to finally let me see him. He smiles pleasantly.

“Give my regards to Elias,” he calls dismissively. Kenneth turns on the heel of his shiny shoe and walks to a round table. He runs his palm over the white cloth to smooth it down, tugging aggressively on the hem.

Any confidence I faked dissipates, and my stomach knots. Okay—I get it. Kenneth is totally fucking scary. I quickly leave the ballroom, set on finding my brother. Once I tell Daniel about the concierge, I'll let him deal with it. Now I wish he'd brought his bat after all.

I
walk directly to the elevator and then take it to the sixth floor. In the hall I cast looks behind me, afraid Kenneth or an unknown monster might attack at any moment. There are noises in the other suites as I pass—life, unlike the dead silence on my floor. When I get to Daniel's room, I press myself against the door and bang on it. Unease settles over me, and I replay my conversation with Kenneth in my head.

He was threatening me. The concierge told me to stay in my room for the rest of my stay. He can't do that. That has to be some sort of violation.

“Daniel,” I call out, banging on his door again. When he doesn't answer, I consider heading over to my father's room to let him know about the situation. But then the door opens suddenly, making me stumble inside. I quickly catch my balance, then launch myself against the inside of the door, throwing the latch to lock it.

My brother stands there, his skin pale and his eyes wide. “Where were you earlier?” he asks. “I had the front desk call your room.”

“I was at the café with Elias,” I respond, pushing past him into the room. I'm surprised to find his clothes strewn
about, the blankets piled on the floor next to the bed. I quickly smooth the bottom sheet and sit on the edge of the mattress. My hands are shaking and I clasp them in front of me. “Why were you looking for me?” I ask.

Daniel looks me over quizzically, then takes a long pause before speaking. “Why are you freaking out?” he asks. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah. I need you to kick someone's ass for me.”

“Done,” he says automatically, and crosses the room to sit next to me. “Tell me what's going on. Was it that guy?” He waits a beat. “Was it Dad?”

“No. It was the concierge.”

“Kenneth?” he says. I'm surprised he knows his name, but it's possible he's met him several times by now. It's just that Daniel isn't normally the observant type. “Is this about the party?” he asks.

“Sort of,” I say, “but that's not what scared me. He's terrorizing the staff here, and when I talked to him in the ballroom just now, he . . .” There's no real explanation for my fear—none that would make sense. What can I tell my brother? That it felt like he was running up behind me, ready to attack me, even though he hadn't moved? That he mentioned me talking with the staff, proving he's been watching me? “The guy's a creep,” I say finally. “He abuses his employees and he's trying to intimidate me—I think we need to get out of here, Daniel. And then I want Dad to report his ass to his supervisors.”

Daniel lowers his eyes with a pained expression. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about.” His voice is low, making him hard to understand. He gets up and walks to his dresser, his back to me, his posture rigid. “I didn't see it before,” he continues, “and then all of a sudden, right after I left you downstairs, I . . . remembered.”

“Remembered what?” I ask. I can't explain the tightening in my chest.
I remember, too,
I think. Only I don't. I have no idea what my brother is talking about. “Daniel, we have to go. This place is too weird.”

My brother turns, his features shifting into a gloom I haven't seen on him before. “We're not leaving,” he says. His words stick in my brain. He didn't say “early.” Daniel didn't say, “We're not leaving early.” He said, “We're not leaving.”

Once again that impending presence, the sense that something is close to me, makes the hairs stand up on my arms, goose bumps ripple my flesh. The hotel is listening to us.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “Of course we are. Even if Dad decides he wants to spend his retirement playing tennis or going to ballroom parties at the Ruby, that doesn't mean we're stuck here. We can just take his car. We can leave whenever.”

Daniel curls up his lip, shaking his head. “I knew you wouldn't listen. You never listen, Audrey.” He turns away
and grips the edge of his dresser, his body rigid as silence fills the space between us. Panic and worry swirl inside my brain; my hands tremble.