3. Ashcroft
3
ASHCROFT
“I asked for the complete list. How hard can it fucking be?”
“This is the complete guest list from that night, Mr. Miller.” My executive assistant, Larry, glances at the pages spread out on my desk. “I’ve spoken to the hotel manager, sir. He assured me there is no mistake.”
“Are you trying to tell me we no longer care who gets an entry into the most elite and exclusive hotel? Because the name I’m searching for isn’t here.” I grind my teeth together. When Larry’s chin lowers to his chest, incompetence etched all over his pale face, I know he’s of no more help to me. “Get me the manager of The Queen’s. I want to see him in person”
I make a mental note: find my fiery fairy first, and fire Larry next.
“I’ll call him right now, sir, and explain the whole situation,” Larry says before closing my office door behind him.
Two hours later, the manager who doesn’t look a day older than me, is sitting in my office.
“Mr. Miller, I apologize if my staff made a mistake.” The strong voice of the man gives me some hope. He’s dressed in a conventional dress code of black suit, white shirt, and black tie. Even though he’s shorter than me, he has a presence that cannot easily be ignored. I’m sure he’s often confused with one of the high-paying guests at The Queen’s.
“The guest list.” I point toward the paper on my table. It’s been two days now, and with every passing second, a foreign fear grows that she’s slipping away from me. No fucking way. “It’s missing a name.” My voice comes out as a growl, but it doesn’t deter the manager.
“I can personally assure you that everyone who made a booking that night has their name on this list, Mr. Miller.”
“So did I imagine her? Do you think I’m hallucinating, Mr. Manager?”
His shoulders push back with a hint of displeasure at my stern voice, hinting he wasn’t always in the hospitality business. “Sir, it isn’t uncommon for ladies to not give their real name to… unfamiliar gentlemen.”
“Believe me, it was a real name.” Because she hadn’t given it to me. Her fake date had called her by that name—Sophia. A name that has haunted my last two nights, and the bluest of blue eyes that have pervaded my every waking moment.
“If I may ask, did you meet her at the bar or a table?”
I’m quiet, waiting for him to explain more.
“Whenever a booking request comes in, we attach it to a table, making sure we’re never overbooked. We might be able to find the name used for the booking.”
Hope peeks out from behind my exhaustion. “I can show you the table. Right now.”
A flare of surprise sparks in his eyes, but he recovers quickly. “Very well, sir.” He follows me as I march out of my office, and we take the elevator.
“What’s your name?” I ask as the manager matches my stride in the parking lot of my office building.
“William, sir.”
I get into the driver’s seat of my McLaren, and once William shuts the passenger door, I expertly steer us throughout the streets of St. Peppers. “You knew who I was at The Queen’s that night,” I state. “Why didn’t your staff treat me as such?”
“When the king decides to stroll through the town, you don’t blow his disguise.”
I chuckle, feeling lighter for the first time in the past two days. “Looking at you, I wouldn’t have guessed there was a funny bone in you.”
“I’m a man of many talents, Mr. Miller.” There’s a serious lilt in his voice despite the lighthearted words. “The town’s wealthiest man walks into his hotel, and not a single person blinks an eye? People don’t flock around him offering favors? I assumed there was a reason for the secrecy.”
“I’m sure word has gotten around that I’ve taken medical retirement from the military.” I raise an eyebrow, and William nods without pulling his gaze away from the street. “Just enjoying some calm before fully immersing myself into the civilian life. So, was it hard for you?” When he doesn’t reply, I add, “Getting back into the civilian life?”
Looking at the control and finesse with which William carries himself, I’ve guessed by now that he was in the military.
“It depends what you’re looking for, sir. I desperately wanted some normalcy. I took the plunge into this slow, calm life with my whole heart.”
“My father hired you, didn’t he?” One of my dad’s greatest skills was to surround himself with only the most loyal staff, something I definitely didn’t inherit, given Larry’s incompetence.
“As a matter of fact, it was your mother, sir.”
Sorrow twists my insides and snakes around my chest. It’s been almost a decade since my parents’ death in a car crash, but with my return to St. Peppers, their memories are becoming more and more frequent.
“She was at the hospital on one of her visits. I was lying on the bed, injured and broken, with no place and no one to go to. She found out that I like reading, so she started reading to me. She said I reminded her of you.” William is quiet abruptly, and after a beat’s pause, he clears his throat and adds, “I hope I didn’t overstep, sir.”
I shake my head. “I know my mother. She was the kindest person on earth.”
“She was indeed. She gave me the job at the library, but then a few weeks later your father offered me the position as hotel manager.” William’s every word drips with gratitude, and then we fall into silence.
Once we reach the hotel and I show him the table, it takes less than a few minutes for William to find me the name and address of the person who made the booking, but it doesn’t make any sense.
The table was booked by one Louis Durant. No Sophia. No fucking Jeremy.
It takes me another day to link the famous Durant Wine family with my firecracker, and soon I’m standing outside the music school where she teaches.