Chapter Nine
T elfer woke up flat on his back with a dead arm and tried to make sense of where he was and why he was so hot.
He was definitely on his side of the bed, having firmly fixed in his mind before he went to sleep that he wasn’t going to wander. There had been no migration to the middle for him this time.
Laodice, on the other hand, had apparently breached the invisible boundary with no thought at all for the sanctity of borders. Fully half of her body was sprawled on his, which was the reason for his dead arm, his high temperature, and his rampant erection.
Her head was lying on his chest, her hair spilling over his threadbare t-shirt. He could feel her warm breath puff out with every exhale. One of her arms was flung across his stomach. His t-shirt had ridden up there, and the soft flesh of her inner arm was pressing against his bare skin. Her open hand had fallen so that the pads of her fingers brushed his side every time he breathed. One of her thighs lay heavily over his, inches from his throbbing cock.
Telfer held his breath until his vision started to go fuzzy. That was obviously a short-term solution, but maybe he could make himself pass out. Then she might wake up and remove herself and he could pretend he’d never noticed.
Laodice snuggled closer, her hand tightening possessively on his waist.
Or not.
“Hey,” he said, exhaling.
She mumbled something and pressed her face into his chest. He felt the light touch of her lips. The sensation sent a lightning bolt straight to his cock, and he nearly levitated straight off the bed.
“Wake up,” he said urgently, no longer worried about saving face for either of them.
“Mm?” Laodice said, and turned to look up at him, still resting on his chest. Her sleepy smile as she blinked herself awake clutched at his heart.
Then her eyes widened as consciousness struck like a hammer blow.
“Argh!” she said, and scrambled backwards to the edge of the bed and then off it. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
Telfer sat up, making sure his groin was covered in rumpled bed clothes. “It’s okay,” he said, gingerly testing his numb arm. It prickled in a way that promised to be even more unpleasant in a moment.
Laodice’s face and throat were deep pink, and she seemed to be having trouble making eye contact. “I really am sorry.”
“It really is okay. Tonight we can—” He hesitated, trying to come up with a solution that would keep them apart in their sleep. This was difficult, because what he really wanted to do was tumble her back into bed and see how far down that blush went.
“We can build a pillow barrier! Xena and I used to do that when we stayed in motels with our parents, because otherwise she kicked me, and Cassie always got the foldout bed because she was the oldest and—” She took a deep breath. Her breasts bounced under that damn t-shirt. “Pillow barrier. It’ll work.”
It probably would. What a shame.
“You can have the bathroom first,” he said, because he wasn’t getting up until the blood had a chance to return to his brain, and Laodice sputtered agreement and got moving. After the door had closed, Telfer realized he’d missed his shot to take matters in hand. Touching himself in the shower was only barely acceptable. He certainly couldn’t jerk off in the bed they shared.
He imagined that for a second—moving his hand up and down, giving his wrist that twist he really liked—with the exciting addition of Laodice watching, eyes narrowed in concentration, as if she were taking notes for later use. Then he clenched his eyes and hands and got up. Not everything went away if you ignored it, but erections would.
As he dressed, he realized what he should have noticed earlier. He’d woken up of his own accord, with no Sarah-alarm. And he’d been able to see Laodice perfectly well in the light that was coming into the room through the drapes. He pulled them back and stared out the window. Bright daylight, and a well-risen sun.
It took some searching, but he found the burner phone on the dressing table, between a bottle of lotion and a tangle of earrings.
It was nearly 9 a.m.
Laodice emerged from the bathroom, still a little pink. She was wearing loose linen slacks and a tight peach crop top with big puffy sleeves, and Telfer was seized by the momentary urge to lick her bared stomach.
“Sarah didn’t wake us,” she said. “Did we miss it? What time is it?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Telfer said, and tossed her the phone.
She checked the time, her eyebrows popping, then dropped the phone in her pocket. “That’s weird. Let’s snoop.”
There were no sounds of anyone else stirring as they walked down the corridor. Telfer wasn’t surprised. The cocktail class had become a bar hang once Patrick and Samuel had gone, and it had been after midnight when he’d got back to the room. People were probably making up for lost sleep from the previous early mornings.
He’d deliberately started a round of reminiscence about the old days with Carrick, hoping to find some insight into Jesse’s blackmail attempt. Carrick had been reasonable casual company in college, but Telfer, with some surprise, had discovered that he actually liked this older version. They even listened to some of the same podcasts. At one point during the night, Telfer had noticed Britt’s indulgent expression, and realized that he and Carrick had been gossiping about the behind-the-scenes dramas of one of their favorite shows for nearly thirty minutes straight.
So it was Carrick and Britt’s door he stopped outside, rapping lightly on the wood.
After a few moments, Britt poked her head out, her red hair sleep-rumpled. She was wearing thick glasses, through which she squinted at him suspiciously.
“What’s up?”
“It’s late,” Telfer said. “We were wondering if maybe we missed the call for breakfast and meditation.”
Britt frowned, more thoughtful than annoyed. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Well, see you down there,” Laodice said cheerfully.
Telfer followed her lead, and stepped carefully going down the stairs. He could hear muffled voices, but no one seemed to be in the magical amplification spot that would carry the noise to them clearly.
Then he heard Kyle, briefly clear. “—cancel on us, we’re fucked.”
Sarah’s voice, dismissive: “It’s not a problem. These people are—” and then it was inaudible again.
The contempt in Sarah’s voice had been palpable, and Telfer had a strong suspicion who she’d been referring to as “these people.”
Laodice kept moving, her wary expression smoothing out into something blandly happy, and Telfer did his best to emulate her. “Good morning!” she caroled, as they approached the little lounge.
Sarah and Kyle both startled. They were carrying wide, flat boxes emblazoned with the logo of a Hippocampus patisserie that had gone viral a few years back, and Kyle grabbed for his as it began to tip. Sarah recovered faster, turning her corporate smile on like a flashlight.
“Good morning, love doves!” she cried. “Hope you enjoyed your lie-in!”
“It was great,” Laodice said. “Wow, is that breakfast?”
“Brunch! We thought we’d give you a little treat.”
“No meditation this morning?”
“Nope.” She gave Telfer a playful look, as artificial as the flowers on the reception desk. “You can even have coffee, Mister Caffeine Fiend. I’ll go call the others now.” She ruthlessly dumped her box on top of Kyle’s and bustled off.
In the gallery dining room, Danielle was laying out plates and cutlery. Laodice offered to help Kyle with the boxes, shooting Telfer a look. More flirting, he figured, and wandered over to help Danielle instead.
“You don’t have to,” she said, but she looked grateful.
“I can handle napkins,” he said. “What’s with the late start?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I thought I’d overslept, but Sarah said it was fine. Normally she makes sure I’m up on time.”
“You sleep on-site? You don’t have a phone alarm or anything?”
Danielle shook her head. “We can’t have phones. Sarah says the guests might find them distracting.”
She sounded uncertain about it, and Telfer was once again aware of how young she was—about nineteen or twenty, he thought. Cutting employees off from phone access in their non-working hours seemed like a huge overreach to him, but maybe to someone in her first job it felt like the way things were.
“Good morning, love doves!” Sarah’s voice boomed over the speakers. She’d evidently deciding that a good cutesy couple title was worth repeating. “Join us in the gallery room for a scrumptious brunch!”
“Would you mind finishing this?” Danielle asked. “I have to go get the drinks.”
“Go for it,” Telfer said, and finished setting the table. Laodice was smiling and tossing her hair as she and Kyle laid out a selection of fruit and pastries, but it was taking him a while to warm up to her. Kyle was an idiot, Telfer decided. If Laodice was looking at him that way, he’d warm up immediately.
He took his normal seat, just as Sarah came in and saw Laodice helping.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!’ she said, sounding genuinely appalled. “You’re a guest!”
“I wanted first pick of the treats,” Laodice said, and picked up a plate to prove it.
Danielle came back in, carefully balancing a huge coffee pot, and Telfer made a straight line for it. His was black, and Laodice liked milk, no sugar. He carried both mugs over to the table.
Laodice sat down beside him, and slid a blueberry Danish onto his plate. “Have you seen any other staff?” she asked quietly.
Telfer shook his head, and took a bite. Tart blueberries and sweet, smooth custard took all his attention for a moment. Flakes of buttery pastry drifted down to land on his shirt, and he brushed them away. A futile gesture, because he immediately took another bite. He was starving.
Laodice was staring at his mouth.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She started. “No, you’re fine.”
“With the staff,” he clarified.
“Right. There aren’t any.” She shot Kyle a cautious look. “I think Kyle’s been doubling as the chef, and Danielle isn’t just Sarah’s assistant. I think she’s doing housekeeping as well.”
“Danielle lives on site,” Telfer contributed, his voice equally low. “And she isn’t allowed to have a phone.”
Laodice’s jaw tightened, but she stopped talking as Danielle poured them coffee and Britt and Carrick joined them at the table. The others drifted in shortly afterwards, except for Jesse and Hazel.
Hazel appeared alone as the meal was wrapping up, slipping into the room with her head bowed. There was no trace of the animated young woman who’d discussed siege warfare so avidly the night before.
“Is Jesse’s headache still bad?” Patrick asked meaningfully.
“Yes,” Hazel said.
Patrick exchanged a look with Samuel. “Because I’d really like to continue a discussion we started yesterday.”
Hazel looked blank. “Well, he’s asleep,” she said, and reached for a muffin. She’d barely taken a bite when Sarah took her place at the head of the table.
“All right!” she said. “As you’ve probably guessed, things are a little different this morning! We haven’t scheduled a class, and the weather is glorious. This is a wonderful time for you to wander around the Halcyon gardens. Features include the enclosed herb and vegetable garden, the rose walk and the hedge pleasaunce. and I encourage you to pair off and go your own way, delighting in each other and the joys of nature.”
This wasn’t the schedule Kyle had given Laodice, but Telfer kept his mouth shut and clapped politely with the others. If nothing else, wandering the gardens would give him and Laodice a real chance to talk.
***
“Okay, so Halcyon’s a scam,” Laodice said, the second they were alone. She’d deliberately taken Telfer away from the others, and they were wandering around the herb garden, enclosed by a low woven wood fence. The little plots held a number of plants she could identify—rosemary, purple sage, several kinds of thyme—and more she couldn’t.
In case anyone came around the corner, she was holding his hand.
“Absolutely a scam,” Telfer agreed. “Wage-skimming?”
Say what she would about Telfer, it was a real pleasure to have someone along who could keep up with her. Eli would have needed everything explained from first principles before he’d take her seriously.
“That’s my read too,” she said. “Sarah’s put a lot of imaginary employees on the books, and she’s skimming their salaries. The others get a cut to stay quiet. They probably don’t see anything wrong with it, if the work gets done. But of course, the work isn’t getting done. A place like this needs a real staff.” She pointed. “Look at those weeds. If someone was doing the maintenance before, they’re not now.”
“I think Kyle and Sarah are the real culprits. Danielle seems like a nice girl with a bad job.”
“Oh sure, the cute girl with the big eyes is the innocent one.”
“Does she strike you as a criminal mastermind?” Telfer asked, looking down his nose.
“Well, neither do Sarah and Kyle,” Laodice pointed out. “Criminals, yes, but masterminds, no. They’re being pretty obvious about it. I’m ninety-nine percent certain Kyle’s bringing in most of the food from outside. Almost everything we’ve eaten is platters or stuff that could be reheated. I think that if we hadn’t seen those pastry boxes this morning, no one would have mentioned where they came from.”
Telfer looked frustrated. “It’s so short-sighted. They can’t possibly keep it up long-term. And this place could make real money if it were run well.”
“Would it make money for them, though?” Laodice asked. “Hospitality employees aren’t hotel owners. Maybe they figure they’ll get a big payday and get out before they get caught.”
“With the bonus of Sarah trying to get us to sign up for her enlightenment program?”
Laodice shrugged. “Like I said, not a criminal mastermind. Maybe she’s multi-tasking. But you’re the one who got the lead on this project. Is there any possibility it goes further up?”
“Halcyon is technically run by a shell company to reduce the liability. I got the lead from a contact in the business that’s actually funding the venture. The project’s his baby.” He thought about it for a second. “He’s not the most honest guy in the world, but I don’t think he’d go for a penny-ante wage-skimming scheme.”
“Right. And if he did, would he be dumb enough to tip off his friend, the journalist?”
Telfer snorted, which Laodice took as answer enough. “So where did the money for Halcyon come from?” she asked.
Telfer looked at her sidelong. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Okay. Tell me anyway.”
“Argive Holdings.”
Laodice tried to maintain her expression, but Telfer nodded. “I’ve noticed you tense up whenever Argive is mentioned. I don’t know the specifics of your distaste, but it’s a big company with a lot of divisions. Real estate, construction, hotels. Not a lot of specific wedding stuff, but Bran— my source works in Events, and that department’s expanded fast over the last couple of years, under a new Vice President. They’re being encouraged to throw money at the wall and see what sticks. My guy found the house and land going for a song and talked his boss into setting up Halcyon.” He paused. “Actually, I think he did it based on a conversation the two of us had about gaps in the luxe wedding industry. I thought he was paying more attention than usual.”
Laodice stopped. “This retreat was your idea? He took your concept and didn’t give you any credit?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Telfer said, though he looked pleased. “I hadn’t gotten much further than considering if there might be a market. He’s the one who made it happen, with Argive’s resources behind him. But I suppose he felt beholden enough to offer me the lead.”
Laodice was still indignant on Telfer’s behalf. “Which would benefit him too, if he’s under pressure to get good press.”
“Oh, he definitely thinks a feature in Goddess will make his mark. I’m certain he didn’t even tell his boss he was sending a journalist. He’s the kind of person who loves a dramatic reveal.”
“And if it’s a story about rich couples getting ripped off?”
Telfer shrugged. “He’ll probably disavow any knowledge of the naughty journalists sneaking into his special project and do his best to cover his tracks. The problem with high risk, high reward is that people always underestimate the risks. But you’re right. I don’t think he’d commit crimes, and then invite me to discover them.”
“Who’s his boss? The VP, I mean.”
“Dammond Argive,” Telfer said, and raised a finger when she twitched again. “There it goes.”
“Your source isn’t Carrick, right?”
“No, Carrick works in Finance. Bookkeeping and compliance, mostly.”
“Are you going to join him if you don’t get Miriam’s job?”
“I doubt it,” Telfer said. “Although it might be worth considering, if you get the job and fire me.”
Laodice laughed. “I wouldn’t fire you!”
“You wouldn’t?”
“You’re very good at your job,” Laodice said. “Why would I start an editorial position by getting rid of my best asset? I assumed you’d stop working for Bridal, because you wouldn’t agree with my direction for the department. But you could transfer to any other Olympus title. They’d all be clamoring for you.”
Telfer looked startled. “Huh. That’s useful information.”
“Well, okay. Are you going to tell your friend we think he’s getting ripped off?” She held her breath. It was probably the right thing to do, but her journalistic instinct was ringing like a chime.
There was a pause. “Not…yet,” Telfer said.
Laodice beamed at him. “Awesome. Why not?”
“At this stage we only have suspicions.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “And you want the story. Whatever the story turns out to be.”
“I sure do,” Laodice said, and tossed her hair back.
Telfer hesitated. “You realize that a scam reveal won’t be published in Goddess , right?”
“I don’t see why it couldn’t be.” She smiled at him. “As you keep saying, weddings are big business. We don’t have to be all hearts and flowers.”
“Miriam will spike it,” Telfer predicted. “But you might be able to pitch the story to New Argus or Vanguard .”
“That’s a really good idea,” Laodice said, and turned up the wattage on her smile.
“You don’t need to flirt with me,” Telfer said sharply. “I already said I won’t tell.”
Laodice opened her mouth to protest when she realized two things. One, she had definitely been flirting, and after she’d woken up sprawled all over him, to boot. Two, Telfer was squeezing her hand urgently, tilting his head as if he heard something.
Their wandering had brought them past the herb garden, and to some paved pathways, lined with high hedges set at right angles. Telfer was right to shut her up; anyone could be behind those hedges, listening.
It seemed that Yvette had finally got Hazel alone to talk. Their voices were a little muffled from behind the hedges, but from the tone of their conversation, they hadn’t heard Telfer and Laodice approaching.
Laodice stepped off the gravel and onto the grass verge, sneaking a few steps closer. Telfer was right behind her, apparently of the same mind.
“It’s not all the time,” Hazel was saying, her voice small. “I wish you could see what he’s like normally. He’s so wonderful.”
Yvette’s voice was calm. “I bet he is. Especially after he’s yelled or frozen you out or broken something that belongs to you, right?”
There was a pause. “He would never hit me,” Hazel said. She sounded caught between defiance and trembling hope. “I’m sure he’d never hit me.”
If you’ve had to calculate the odds on that, it’s already gone too far , Laodice thought, feeling sick. She glanced at Telfer, who was looking grim.
“I kept saying that too,” Yvette said steadily. “Right up until he hit me.”
Hazel gasped.
“And then I said, it was only once, and he’s really sorry. Twice and he’s really sorry, but I made him so mad. And then he kept hitting, and he eventually stopped apologizing, and then it was always my fault, no matter what I did.”
Laodice concentrated on breathing without making a sound. Sometimes eavesdropping was journalistic curiosity, and sometimes it was a violation of trust. Maybe Yvette wouldn’t mind them knowing. But maybe she very much would.
“Is it Xavier?” Hazel said. She sounded affronted on Yvette’s behalf, so maybe there was hope.
“No,” Yvette said, her voice sure and strong. “This was someone a few years ago. I left him.”
“Good,” Hazel said. “But Jesse doesn’t—”
Yvette’s voice ran over hers. “I left him several times, but I made the last time stick. It took a while, and it was hard work, and I would never have made it without help, so I am telling you, Hazel, if you think there’s no one who will help you, think again . Because if I can let you skip even a month or two of what I went through getting away from him, I’ll do it. If you need a place to stay, or money, or a lawyer, I swear I’ve got your back.”
Go, Yvette , Laodice thought.
“I—” Hazel said, and her voice cracked.
Yvette’s voice gained intensity. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I know you’re probably not in the place where you can ask for help. You’re probably still hoping that it will work out, that when he promises to change that he means it. But you can ask me tomorrow, or eight years from now, and I’ll do it. I will do anything to help you. And I want you to remember this, the first time he hits you.” There was a rustling sound, presumably Yvette getting to her feet.
Hazel was making muffled, soft noises.
“Also, my official legal advice is that you don’t marry him,” Yvette added, sounding more clinical and less impassioned. “Divorce is an administrative nightmare, even if you do get half.”
Hazel mumbled something, and Yvette said “ What? ” and sat down again with an audible thump.
“I said we’re already married,” Hazel said, snuffling, and Telfer grabbed Laodice’s arm and hustled her away.
“Hey,” she muttered in protest, but then she heard what he had, the voices of Samuel and Patrick floating through the garden towards them. They rounded the corner and saw Patrick animatedly explaining to Samuel why the roses weren’t going to make it.
“Poor soil condition and bad transplant technique,” he was saying, waving at a bush covered in healthy-looking pink blooms. “This bed wasn’t designed for roses at all. I’d say they ripped out whatever was there and put these bushes in a week or two before we arrived. Absolutely no forward planning, and they’re going to die without some serious care. Which they’re obviously not getting.”
Samuel looked at him fondly. “Well, don’t volunteer, sweetheart. We’re guests, remember?”
“I’d rather fertilize this garden than spend another minute in a meditation session,” Patrick said, snorting. “At least you can zone out and mentally go through lines of code. I’m just sitting there while my ass goes numb and I think about all the mean things anyone’s ever said about me.”
“How’s it going?” Telfer called as they drew closer, pitching his voice louder than it needed to be. Laodice squeezed his hand in appreciation.
“Good,” Patrick said. “Well, not entirely good, Samuel is experiencing symptoms of serious internet withdrawal, but other than that.”
“You should have let me keep my laptop,” Samuel said, his voice mock mournful. “I could have broken into the staff Wi-Fi in no time.”
Patrick pouted dramatically. “No, no, we are focusing on each other , not our screens.”
“We’re enjoying the focus time too,” Laodice said. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Yvette, striding towards the front of the hotel, looking like a woman on a mission.
“Yes,” Telfer said. “I feel like we’re getting to learn so much more about each other.”
Which… Okay, yes, that was actually true. She now knew Telfer’s favorite movie, his favorite dessert, and that dancing in public made him self-conscious.
Also, that he thinks you’re hot.
“We’re learning about our fellow guests, too,” she said. “You guys are great, and it’s been nice for Telfer to catch up with Carrick again and meet Britt.”
“Do you know what Britt does?” Samuel asked. “I figured she was independently wealthy, but Patrick thinks—”
“—she’s a cop,” Patrick said, folding his arms.
Laodice blinked at him. “Really?”
“Believe me, Elle, if you’d been to as many protests as I have, you’d know it too. Even when they wear the right shoes and take off the body armor, there’s still that ineffable cop aura. She’s got it.” He looked at Samuel. “Sammy thinks I’m being paranoid.”
“I didn’t say that. I said that police officers probably don’t earn enough for this kind of thing.”
“Then Carrick’s the one paying,” Patrick said impatiently. “I mean, you’re paying for me. Elle’s paying for Telfer, right?”
“Um,” Telfer said.
“Patrick,” Samuel said, a note of warning in his voice.
“Oh, come on. Money’s this huge and powerful thing that exerts an incredible force on every aspect of our life, and we’re not supposed to talk about it who has it and who doesn’t?” Patrick spread his hands. “That gives it more power!”
Laodice pretty much agreed with him, but she wasn’t sure that Elle would. “The trip was a gift from my dad.” Telfer’s hand tightened on hers, and she hoped that she hadn’t contradicted something he’d already said. Well, he could always claim that he’d been embarrassed to admit it.
Patrick looked triumphant. “So your dad has money.”
“He says he’s ‘comfortable,’” Laodice said, and nodded when Patrick’s eyes lit up. “Which is, yes, code for rich.” She flapped at her face, wishing she’d thought to pack a hat. “I don’t suppose either of you has any sunscreen?”
“Here, honey,” Patrick said, and handed her a tube. “They say black don’t crack, but I’m not letting that UV in.”
“You must spend a lot of time outside, too,” Laodice said, smearing the goop on with relief.
Patrick sighed. “Not as much as I used to. I do a lot of my work in the office, these days.”
“Too successful for his own good,” Samuel said, and poked him. “Speaking of people with money.”
“What do you think of these gardens?” Telfer asked.
Patrick took the change of subject with grace and embarked on a lengthy explanation of exactly how badly Halcyon’s landscaper had screwed up. Laodice listened with half an ear, noting the moment when Hazel reemerged from her hiding place and went back to the castle, her head down.
“Hello, lovers!” Sarah’s voice said, stridently cutting through the warm air.
“There are speakers outside?” Telfer asked, eyeing their surroundings.
Samuel pointed at a lamp post near the pagoda. “There. Speakers everywhere. But no cameras, weirdly enough.”
Sarah had continued, oblivious to the byplay, inviting them in to lunch.
“Come on in, children, playtime’s over,” Samuel murmured. “It feels like we just had breakfast.”
Patrick nudged him. “Come on, Jesse might be there.”
“Why do you guys want to talk to Jesse?” Laodice asked.
Samuel and Patrick exchanged glances. “We better,” Patrick said. “What if he tried it on them too?”
“Tried what?” Telfer said.
“He snuck into our room,” Patrick said.
“What? When?”
“During the cocktail thing last night, when he supposedly had a headache. I went upstairs to grab a sweater, because of that damn air conditioning, and he was there. He tried to pretend like he’d mixed up the doors and come in accidentally, but I had to walk halfway down the hall, and I’d have seen him go in if he’d made a mistake. As it was, he had plenty of time to recognize he was in the wrong place.”
“And afterwards, I found this stuck under the coffee table.” Samuel fished in the front pocket of his jeans and withdrew a small round object, about half an inch across. It looked like a little silver coin, but Telfer inhaled sharply.
“Is that a bug?” he said.
“Yeah.” Samuel looked at the object with contempt. “A cheap one. Battery-operated, transmitting to something close by. I’d check your room for them too.”
“I was in the room all night,” Laodice said, remembering that soft scratch on the door with a chill. What if that had been Jesse, testing to see if anyone was in there? “He couldn’t have put anything in there.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Samuel said.
“But why would he bug your room?” Laodice asked.
“Blackmail,” Telfer said.
Samuel looked puzzled. “I was thinking more like corporate espionage,” he said. “I’ve got some fairly big deals coming up, and confidentiality is key. But I always get an exception in NDAs to talk to Patrick.”
Patrick looked at him fondly. “Even though I don’t understand a word.”
“You’re my rubber duck,” Samuel said, and kissed him.
“Have you told anyone else?” Telfer asked. “Told Sarah?”
Patrick shook his head. “We probably should,” he admitted. “But we want to talk to Jesse first. Maybe he’s got a better explanation.”
“And we don’t want the backlash to fall on Hazel,” Samuel said softly, and all four of them were silent for a moment.
“There’s probably not much you can do to avoid that,” Laodice said. “I get the feeling that no matter what happens—”
“I know,” Patrick said. “I hate this. I feel like I’m watching a car crash in slow motion. Can’t we do something?”
“She’s got to want to leave,” Samuel said, his eyes dark with some memory of his own. “It would be good if she can get out before the wedding, but an engagement is a lot of pressure.”
Telfer squeezed Laodice’s hand. She didn’t need the warning. Telling them that Hazel and Jesse were already married would raise more questions they couldn’t answer.
Patrick sighed. “So, in the meantime…” He brought his hands together. “Smash.”
***
Lunch was several platters of pre-prepared sandwiches and salads, and Jesse didn’t attend that either. Hazel was also absent. Patrick and Samuel exchanged glances.
“Could I have a tray or something?” Laodice asked suddenly. “I’ll take some lunch up to Hazel and Jesse.”
“Danielle can do that,” Sarah said.
Laodice was already putting a plate together. “No, it’s fine,”
“I’ll go with you,” Telfer said. That was what fiancés did, right? Even if it wasn’t, he wasn’t going to leave Laodice walking into a room with a potentially violent blackmailer by herself.
He braced himself for argument on the way upstairs, but Laodice was silent, focused on the platter in her hands. He probably should have offered to carry that for her, Telfer realized belatedly. He knocked on the door.
Hazel yanked it open. Her face fell immediately, going from joy to disappointment so quickly Telfer nearly missed the change.
“I thought we’d bring you up some lunch,” Laodice said brightly.
Hazel twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Oh. Thank you.” She took the platter without much enthusiasm, then rallied. “That was nice of you.”
“Is Jesse here?” Telfer asked.
“Um,” Hazel said. “He’s…in the bathroom?”
Laodice looked at her. “Is he?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Hazel burst into tears.
“Maybe we should go,” Telfer said. He took a step backward, and found his wrist encased in a vise-like grip as Laodice tugged him inside instead. He closed the door behind them and discovered that in the two seconds it had taken to do that, Laodice had divested Hazel of the platter and got her sitting on the bed with one arm around her shoulders.
“Jesse’s not here,” Hazel said. She wasn’t sobbing, but enormous tears kept welling up in her eyes and pouring down her cheeks. Telfer shifted from foot to foot. “He wasn’t here when I came up last night.”
“Does he do that sometimes?” Laodice asked. “Leave for no reason?”
“Oh no, there’s always a reason,” Hazel said. “Like I’ve embarrassed him, or accidentally flirted with one of his friends. He goes away to cool off.”
Telfer felt sick.
“Or he’s doing it to punish you,” Laodice said, and when Hazel jerked, she added, “We overheard you and Yvette talking this morning.”
“It’s not like that,” Hazel said automatically, though Telfer thought there was a hint of doubt in her voice. “I mean, people have a right to stay away if they can’t stand to be around you, right?”
It had the cadence of a direct quote, and Telfer’s hands clenched involuntarily. He looked around the room for something to do, some kind of action to take.
Jesse and Hazel had been assigned a room with a view of the garden, and that was echoed in their room, which was decorated in spring green, with a giant mural of three scantily clad women dancing in a garden while pudgy children with wings flew overhead.
He spotted the box of tissues on the nightstand and offered them to Hazel, feeling more useless than he could remember feeling in a long time.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a wavering smile.
“Does Jesse often tell you that he can’t stand to be around you?” Laodice asked. Telfer could tell she was fighting to keep her voice even.
“Not that often.” Hazel wiped her eyes. “And he hardly ever stays away overnight. I’m really worried about him, but I can’t even call him! I don’t have my phone!”
Laodice grimaced over her head at Telfer, and he grimaced back. Hazel worrying about him was probably precisely what Jesse was aiming for. Or perhaps he’d decided to get out before Patrick and Samuel told Sarah about his snooping, and scaring his wife was an added bonus.
“Do you know his number?” he asked. “Halcyon must have a landline available.”
“I think so? But he doesn’t have his phone, either.”
“Right. I forgot.”
“He took his laptop, so if I had my phone I could at least email him.”
Laodice’s hand went towards her pocket, and then halted. “You could ask Sarah for your phone back,” she suggested.
“But then I’d have to tell her why.” Hazel bit her lip. “I will. If he’s not back by dinner.”
“Okay,” Laodice said. “I think that’s a good plan. And Hazel… I don’t want to pressure you, not when you’re already under a lot of stress. But I agree with Yvette. What Jesse is doing to you is not okay.”
“We do need to talk a few things over,” Hazel said, that note of doubt in her voice again.
Laodice closed her eyes briefly, but Telfer thought that was probably as good as it was going to get right now.
“We also heard that you and Jesse are already married?” he said.
Hazel sighed. “We eloped a few months ago. It was very romantic but then we realized we wanted a proper wedding. And we hadn’t told anyone, so we’re only legally married. As far as our families know, the wedding we have will be the real ceremony.” She smiled, a dimple popping up in her cheek. “And of course, we wouldn’t have been able to come to Halcyon as an old married couple.”
The legality was the point Yvette had worried about, not the romance of the “real” wedding. Telfer had some suspicions about who might have pressed for a secret marriage.
Hazel was looking worried. “You won’t tell, will you? That we’re married, not just engaged.”
“No, of course not.”
“Thank you for lunch,” Hazel said, and hugged Laodice tightly. “Really. I appreciate it.”
Laodice hugged her back. “Everything seems worse when you’re hungry.”
“If you need anything, we’re right down the hall,” Telfer added.
There was no one watching as they left, but he reached for Laodice’s hand, needing a moment of warmth and human connection.
She took it without hesitation.