Chapter 11 #2
He was leaving. He was going to head down to the lobby and she’d eat room service alone until Shane arrived, and the next time she saw Ben they'd do this awkward dance again and—
The elevator doors opened and Shane stepped out, Pete at his side. His eyes went from Charlie to Ben and back again, and that knowing smirk appeared.
“King. Moose.” He nodded at both of them. “Perfect timing. Let's debrief.” He looked at Charlie. “Your room?”
“Yeah. There’s a decent-sized table we can use.
” Charlie's professional mask slammed back into place.
“This way.” Charlie led them down the hall, hyper-aware of Ben behind her.
She unlocked the door and they filed in.
The room was nice but generic—table, chairs, queen-sized bed, small fridge, and a credenza.
Shane pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. Charlie started to take the one beside him when Ben reached past her and grabbed it. It took her a second to realize he wasn’t claiming the chair for himself, but pulling it out for her. When was the last time anyone had done that for her?
Shane took his laptop out and set it up on the table. “Okay, so Elissa and I have been digging into the online chatter. Found something interesting.”
He pulled up screenshots and turned the laptop around. “There's a figure coordinating the Caidansworn. Calls himself 'The Chronicler.'“
Charlie and Ben exchanged looks. “It ties back to Caiden Bramble's role in the books,” Charlie said. “He's supposed to be the one who chronicles Aldric's legend. The loyal companion who records everything.”
Ben nodded slowly. “In the books, Caiden keeps a journal. It becomes a holy text for the Embersworn after he's believed dead.”
Shane smirked. “Yeah, Elissa already explained it to me. Y’all are nerds.”
“Asshole,” Charlie and Ben said at the same time. The surprised expression on Ben’s face when he looked at her made Charlie bark out a laugh.
Totally worth it to see him laugh, too.
“Takes two to know one,” Shane told them.
“The Chronicler is the perfect handle for someone leaking information,” Charlie said. “Any luck finding him?”
“Nope. Problem is, we can't find The Chronicler's actual account. He doesn't post himself. Other fans reference him instead. 'The Chronicler says,' 'The Chronicler knows,' that kind of thing. He's feeding them information somehow, but we can't trace the source.”
“Duke Holloway?” Charlie asked.
Shane's expression darkened. “Can't prove it's him.
But can't prove it's not him either. The timing lines up—whenever Duke's on set, new 'Chronicler intel' appears within hours. But if it’s him, he's careful.
He's got someone else doing the posting, and it always seems to be someone new breaking the news.”
“Maybe he’s using different accounts?”
Shane shook his head. “Not according to Elissa. They all check out as legit people with longstanding accounts.”
“So we're stuck,” Charlie said.
“For now. Elissa's still digging.” Shane studied Charlie. “How was today? Any incidents?”
“Easy day. No one followed us, no unusual activity at the locations. Viv's happy with the sites.”
“Good. I’ll email you the posts we found.”
“I’ll start reading them and see if there’s anything—”
Just then, Charlie’s stomach decided it would be a great time to embarrass her with a growl.
“First, you're going to go eat something that isn't a protein bar.” Shane closed his laptop and stood.
Charlie blinked. “Actually, Ben’s fed me well today. I'm fine—”
“King.” Shane's voice went firm. “You've been on since Saturday. You need a break. I've got this tonight.”
“I can just order room service, or better yet, we could all get a pizza.”
“Pizza sounds great—” Shane started.
“Or,” Ben spoke up, “I can continue feeding you well, Charlie. There’s a nice restaurant downstairs.” He looked pointedly at Shane.
Charlie's heart started hammering.
“Even better idea, Moose,” Shane said. “I’ll get outta your hair. I’ve got the room across from Rowan’s. You've got your phone. Anything happens, I’ll call and you're back in thirty seconds.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “That's an order, King. Good night, Moose.”
He couldn’t close the door fast enough behind him.
The sudden silence in the hotel room was deafening.
“I, uh.” Ben's voice was quiet. “It wasn't—I mean, I shouldn’t assume—”
Charlie's head snapped toward him.
“It's fine,” Charlie said quickly. “You don’t have to feed me; you should go enjoy your dinner.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I'd really like it if you'd have dinner with me, Charlie.”
Her mouth went dry. Ben Massey was asking her to dinner. Right now. This was happening.
Not out of pity. Not because Shane set it up.
Because he wanted to.
Say yes, her heart screamed. Say yes say yes say yes—
“I'm not exactly dressed for a nice restaurant,” she heard herself say as she ran a hand through her wind-tangled ponytail, and wanted to punch herself.
Ben's mouth quirked. “I’m not dressed for it either. But I don't think they'll kick us out for tactical pants and flannel.”
Charlie felt a smile pulling at her lips despite herself. “You sure about that?”
“Pretty sure.” He took a step closer. “So? Will you have dinner with me?”
Hide what you love.
But maybe—just maybe—she didn't have to anymore.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “Yeah, I'd like that. Just give me a sec to do something with my hair so I don’t walk in looking like I have a rat’s nest on my head.”
“You look like a woman who’s spent a happy day in the mountains.” He lowered his voice. “You look gr-great.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thank you.”
The smile that broke across Ben's face was worth the risk.