The Nightingale
. . .
Ellie
This was a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
Not only was my heart threatening to explode out of my chest, but I’d begun sweating profusely during the drive to Cade’s building. I was too embarrassed to ask Grady to blast the air-conditioning, so I’d taken to subtly holding my arms out to get more airflow to the problem areas.
Traffic was surprisingly sparse, and we arrived way before I was ready.
Mac appeared right outside my door, yanking it open so fast I jumped in my seat.
“Why are you out here?” I asked, fumbling with my buckle until it clicked free.
“Because my boss has lost his damn mind,” Mac grumbled. With a sigh, he turned on his heel and walked off. “Follow me. And hurry up.”
My jaw dropped at his short tone, but I mumbled a quick thank you to Grady before scrambling to catch up with Mac.
I followed him up the stairs like a loyal puppy to where Hughes stood guard at the door.
Ah. My old nemesis.
Mac let me pass him, and I raised my chin as we approached, keeping my expression neutral. “We meet again.”
Instead of refusing me entry this time, Hughes pulled the door open with a flourish and a surprisingly warm smile. “Welcome back to the Nightingale, Miss Darling. Mr. Westbrook is waiting for you in the penthouse.”
I faltered a step, lips parting in shock. “You’re really letting me inside? Just like that?”
“Of course.” A playful spark caught in his eyes. “You’ve been added to Mr. Westbrook’s account.”
I frowned. “You mean his visitor list.”
“I do not,” he said, mouth twitching. He leaned closer—as if letting me in on a secret. “The account is a far bigger deal.”
I swallowed and glanced at Mac, who rolled his eyes, before squinting at Hughes. “Well, you’re still my nemesis. I crocheted a doll in your likeness, and I’m not afraid to stick it with a few pins.”
He dipped his head and touched the brim of his cap. “I’m honored.”
My frown deepened, and I shifted my weight to my other leg. “This won’t be much of a rivalry if you’re nice to me now.”
Mac grunted and nudged me from behind. “Just get inside, Ellie. You’re blocking the foot traffic.”
“Oh, sorry.” I stumbled forward, quickly clearing the doorway and glancing behind us at an older couple walking in. “I won’t forget this, Hughes!”
His laughter followed us inside, where my bafflement only grew as Preston smiled and greeted me with a shallow bow from behind the front desk. “Let me know if you need anything, Miss Darling.”
Okay. This was officially weird.
I tried to smile back, but there was no way it looked natural as I gravitated closer to Mac. “Him, too? Why is everyone suddenly acting all chummy with me? They tried to sic Frank on me last time.”
I pointed at the giant security guard lurking in the darkest corner of the lobby, whose head snapped toward me like he’d heard his name. I could swear he even winked at me.
Mac didn’t answer, but his lips twitched suspiciously.
A beaming Samuel greeted us at the private elevator. “Hello, Ellie. It’s good to see you again.”
Finally, someone I could get answers from. I hopped into the elevator and smiled at him. “Samuel, thank goodness. Can you fill me in here, please? Why is everyone smiling at me?”
“You don’t know?” He waited until Mac joined us before pressing the P button and tapping his fancy black card. “You’re basically Nightingale royalty now. Mr. Westbrook told us you’re his—”
Mac abruptly cleared his throat, baring his teeth at Samuel. “You’re unusually chatty today, Samuel.”
The bellhop’s face flushed red to the very tips of his ears. “Apologies, Mr. Lawson.”
I sympathized with him. “Oh, don’t mind Mac. He doesn’t understand that just because he needs a few pina coladas before opening up, not everyone is as antisocial.”
That earned me a cutting glare from Mac, and Samuel snorted before turning even redder in embarrassment.
Thankfully, we reached the penthouse before he could become a fire risk.
The music hit me as soon as the doors opened—a soft melody drifting from unseen speakers.
The dark hit next.
All the lights were off, but a small projector lit the walls and ceiling with the warm, shimmering glow of a million little stars. The space was covered in them, making both Samuel and me gasp at the sight before Mac nudged me out of the elevator.
“Cade’s waiting for you on the balcony,” he said, snapping me out of my shock as I staggered forward. I turned just in time to see Mac press the button to go back down and wink at me. “Give him hell.”
Okay, then.
Guess he wasn’t staying.
Speechless as the doors slid shut, I eased back around and stared open-mouthed at the ceiling.
The high, star-covered ceiling.
I took a tentative step forward, then another, completely out of place in this enchanting new world.
It reminded me of the night Cade and I had fallen asleep on the beach underneath a blanket of stars.
And when he made me see stars on the yacht.
My legs moved on autopilot, following Mac’s instructions to the balcony. The doors were open, and more stars waited for me out here—not real ones, but twinkling lights hanging over the doorway and looped around the railing.
But it wasn’t the lights that stole my ability to walk or speak or even think.
Cade leaned against the railing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on me—a soft smile curving his lips.
It wasn’t the man himself, but his outfit, that stopped me in my tracks and made me almost choke on my own tongue. He wasn’t wearing the take-no-prisoners suit he’d worn to Kitty’s or the white linen shirt that showed off his forearms or even the swim trunks I’d gotten used to seeing on the beach.
Cade wore adult-sized rainbow unicorn onesie pajamas, complete with a glittery horn atop the hood.
I blinked hard to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, but the same sight stared me in the face.
Unicorn. Onesie. Pajamas.