11. Mila
The five of us leave the meeting together. Ilsa and I push our carts. The bellhop got called away before he could move them.
We wander an endless maze of halls, and after fifteen minutes, Owen, who is leading us, comes to an abrupt halt.
“What?” Brooklyn asks.
“I think I’m lost,” Owen says.
Everyone groans.
“I’m out,” Maverick says. “I can jog the castle and find my way back in no time. See ya.” He takes off in a run.
Owen turns to us, hands extended, his shaggy hair falling in his eye. “I thought I knew what I was doing.”
“We can figure this out,” Brooklyn says. “Sebastian said there are codes on the corners.” She walks ahead. “There, I see a turn.”
Owen hurries to catch up with her, Ilsa and I trundling along behind our carts.
When we get there, Owen and Brooklyn are puzzling out the letters at the top of the wall. BH-1.
“Bathhouse one?” Brooklyn says.
“There’s no bathhouse here,” Ilsa grumbles.
“Barbie hall?” Owen ventures.
“No,” Brooklyn says. “The only themed wings are princess and haunted.”
“Besides,” Ilsa says, “we’re in the guts, not the public area.”
I snap my fingers. “Banquet hall one. There’s a banquet hall with an outside entrance, so that guests can park in the side lot and not have to go through the lobby. I think we’re on the west side service entrance.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Ilsa says. “But where is the staff wing from here?”
I pull up an aerial of the castle on my phone and angle it at them. “If we’ve gone all the way to the west side, then we went too far.”
“We definitely walked a lot less last time.” Brooklyn heads back the way we came.
Ilsa sighs. “Let’s check every turn on the way back.”
Owen takes the lead again. “There’s a turn.”
This one has a sign reading SW-2.
“Yes! Staff wing two!” Brooklyn practically glows. “At the end of this hall will be the turn to staff wing one.”
“They put us at the ass-end of the castle,” Ilsa mutters.
We keep moving, and eventually we spot the sign for SW-1.
“We made it!” Brooklyn says. “By next week, we’re going to laugh at how hard we thought this was today.”
“Can’t wait.” Ilsa’s voice is deadpan as she approaches a door and scans her card. Then she disappears inside her room without another word.
The three of us exchange glances.
“She’s a real peach,” Brooklyn says.
My belly turns over. Of course, the mean one would be the one who saw how Sebastian reacted to me. “Maybe she’s nervous.”
“And what about that Maverick?” Owen asks. “He’s already pissed off both Raya and Sebastian.”
“Yeah, I can’t figure him out.” Brooklyn turns to her door. “You two want to have dinner together later? We can figure out our free room service.”
I hesitate. I might have to meet Sebastian.
“Totally,” Owen says. He practically has heart eyes over the possibility of time with Brooklyn.
I’ll leave him to it.
“I have a lot to move,” I say. “I grossly over-packed.”
“Okay!” Brooklyn says. “Owen, looks like it’ll be you and me. Seven?”
“On the dot.”
I hate to miss it. “I’ll knock if I’m feeling up for it,” I say.
“Let’s exchange numbers real quick,” Brooklyn says. “That way we can save each other if the hallways try to eat us again.”
“Good idea,” Owen says.
We take a moment in the middle of the hall to type each other’s names and numbers into our phones. Then Brooklyn and Owen disappear into their rooms.
I approach the door that matches the number on the printout Raya set on my cart. SW181. It looks like I’m the farthest down, although there are several more doors before the hall ends with an exit to the outside. I’ll walk out later and see if there is a closer end of the parking lot for when I bring the rest of my things.
If I get to bring the rest of my things.
My stomach goes hot.
What a mess.
The door pops open with my key card. I push it wide, hearing a crunch of paper. It’s a folded note, trapped between the carpeting and the bottom edge.
I leave my cart to scoop it up. Even though it could be anything — welcome papers, something from housekeeping — I already know it’s from Sebastian.
The cart is still in the hall, but even so, I walk inside the room to set the note on the back of the pale gray sofa. I stare at it a moment. No, I will wait.
First things first.
I drag the cart into the room. Maybe I’ll unload it and return it before I read the note.
Maybe I’ll even unpack.
But what if he wants me to leave?
I glance around the small apartment. The main room has a sofa and TV, a small dinette by a big window, and a kitchen. I open a few cabinets, noting the organized white dishes and shiny pans.
A door off the kitchen leads to a bedroom and a typical hotel bathroom. The cabinet below the sink is loaded with toilet paper, and two clean sets of bath and hand towels are on a silver rack by the white shower curtain.
Not a lot of personality, but definitely bright and clean.
I head back to the living room. The white paper stands out on the textured cushion. I let out a long breath. Time to see what he said.
My hands tremble as I unfold the creased page. It’s hotel stationery, with the crisp logo of the Castle Hotel in bright red at the top.
His handwriting is spidery but clear.
M—
There is nowhere easy to meet on site until you know your way around. Can you find your way back to Smiley’s bar? There is a cute Italian place across the road. I’ll be there from 7-8.
—S
I glance at the clock. It’s after four.
Three hours to kill until then, and I probably shouldn’t unpack.
But by the time I know my fate, it will be dark, and in the morning, I start work.
I remember what Bertie said. I’m in good hands.
Probably Sebastian wants to see where we stand. Surely he won’t kick me out. He was so friendly and easygoing.
Other than when he dunked my hair in dip.
I grab the end and give it a sniff.
Uggh. Sour cream and herbs.
I know what I’m doing before I go to dinner.
Washing my hair.