Chapter 12
I’m back home. Zachary was super sweet, although a bit awkward. I hope you had fun after I left!
Message from Rose to Grace
Grace
It was no big surprise that Amy’s death had changed my life.
When it happened, I’d known instantly that nothing would ever be the same again.
What I couldn’t have predicted was that I’d have to avoid my colleagues because I couldn’t stand their pity, and spend my breaks hiding away on the private floor of The Darlington.
I’d pushed my cleaning trolley to the end of the corridor and was crouching with my Tesco sandwich behind cleaning products, rags, and bed linen, trying to get hold of Amy’s boyfriend, Garrett.
Amy and Garrett had been a couple when the accident had happened, even though I had begged her several times to break up with him.
He had often stood her up, and didn’t give her anywhere near the attention and love she deserved.
I would have been perfectly happy never to speak to him again, but as fate would have it, he was working at St. Thomas’ Hospital, right next to The Darlington, as part of his medical training—the same hospital my sister had been taken to after the crash.
I had to talk to him. Perhaps there was something in Amy’s file that would help me find the culprit.
But Garrett had been ignoring my calls, and I was reluctant to visit him in person at the hospital.
But if he didn’t stop ignoring my attempts to get in touch soon, I guess I’d have no other option.
The phone rang . . .
. . . and rang . . .
. . . and rang . . .
. . . and rang, until his voicemail came on again.
What an arsehole. He couldn’t even take two minutes to talk to the twin sister of his recently deceased girlfriend.
I sent him a message that didn’t sound anywhere near as angry and reproachful as I would have liked it to, but I didn’t want to scare him off.
Frustrated, I leant my head against the wall and took a bite of my sandwich.
Why was I the only person who still seemed to care about Amy now that she was dead?
It seemed like everyone else just wanted to get over her.
How could they accept the death of someone they loved so easily, without asking questions?
It was inexplicable, but at the same time, in Garrett’s case, I wasn’t surprised.
He hadn’t exactly valued Amy when she was still alive.
Suddenly, I heard steps in the corridor and froze.
No one usually came to the end of the hallway, since there was nothing here but the utility room and a storeroom full of seasonal decorations for the penthouses.
I held my breath, trying not to give myself away with a sound.
If Mr. and Mrs. Darlington found me here, there’d be hell to pay.
It was their private floor, after all, and not my own personal break room.
I packed my sandwich away hastily as the footsteps came closer.
I was in the process of inventing an excuse when Ethan appeared before me.
My heart skipped a beat—and not from relief.
Ethan looked like he was on his way back from a workout.
His hair was sweaty, his face still flushed with exertion, and he’d taken off his T-shirt.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him topless, but no matter how often he stood half-naked before me, I was overwhelmed by his perfect body every time.
Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. Firm muscles.
And smooth skin that was practically begging me to stroke it. With my fingers. My lips. My tongue—
Stop! Don’t!
“What are you doing down there?” Ethan asked, suspicious.
I tore my gaze away from his six-pack. “Nothing.” Great excuse.
He looked at me warily. “You do know that you’re here to work, right?”
“It’s my break.”
“Isn’t there a staff room for that?”
“Yes,” I replied without elaborating.
“So why are you here?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is very much my business if you’re hanging out outside my flat.”
“I’m not hanging around outside your flat!” I protested. OK, his penthouse was the closest to my current hiding place, but that was irrelevant. “I’m about to get back to work, anyway. I just need a few minutes alone, so piss off.”
The end of my sentence just slipped out—I wasn’t even mad at Ethan.
He had every right to ask what I was doing here.
I was just frustrated with Garrett and sick of my colleagues tiptoeing around me.
I knew I wasn’t quite myself at the moment, but I also wasn’t as fragile and breakable as everyone thought.
I missed my old life, normality, sitting at the table with the others bitching about the hotel guests.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Apology accepted,” Ethan said, and before I knew it, he’d lowered himself to sit on the floor opposite me. He rested his arms casually on his knees, his legs bent. “Now tell me why you’re really up here alone instead of spending time with the others.”
“I don’t want to ruin their break,” I admitted.
I was surprised at my own honesty. But Ethan had earned a little trust. He hadn’t told Rakesh or Henry about my break-in; otherwise, I’d have been pulled in for a serious disciplinary meeting by now.
“They don’t know what to say to me and always seem scared they’ll set me off and make me cry. ”
“Sounds terrible.”
I nodded, pulled my sandwich from its hiding place, and took a bite. All the while, I felt Ethan’s eyes on me. I raised an eyebrow. “Want a bite?”
He eyed the wrapper dubiously. While I knew he wasn’t a snooty connoisseur who only ate caviar and gold-leafed food, I assumed prepackaged sandwiches weren’t exactly on his meal plan.
Probably famished after exercising, he accepted my offer anyway.
I handed him the half, still in its wrapper.
He pulled it out and bit into it. His face twisted, but he chewed on bravely.
“This is . . .”
“Delicious?” I finished for him.
He grimaced. “Terrible, more like.”
“Give it back, then.”
“Gladly.” He leant forward to hand it back to me. It was only a small motion, yet it showed every one of his muscles in the most flattering light. I couldn’t help imagining how very different this lunch break would be if Ethan were my snack instead of the sandwich.
Oh my God!
Perhaps I should take a leaf out of Rose’s book next weekend and pick up some random guy to help me get these Ethan fantasies out of my head.
But I already suspected it wouldn’t help.
Any other man would be a disappointing substitute.
Like wanting crisps and having to eat a carrot instead.
It only left you craving crisps all the more.
“What are you thinking?” Ethan asked suddenly.
“Nothing,” I squeaked, caught off guard.
“So your face just turned bright red for no reason?” His mouth twitched, as if he knew exactly what was going through my head.
I had once had a pretty good poker face where Ethan was concerned, but last week’s breakdown seemed to have cracked my mask.
Now Ethan could see right through me to the thoughts I was trying to hide—that I wanted to lick the sweat off his body.
It should really be illegal to look so good while sweaty.
“You cheated on Saturday,” I said, if only to distract myself.
He raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware we were exclusive.”
“We had a deal,” I reminded him. “You got to ask me a question, and in return, you had to tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know. I answered your question, but you never gave me a secret.”
“I never promised it would be a secret.”
“There was interest on the deal. Now you owe me more.”
“That’s extortion!”
I grinned and took a bite of my sandwich. “That’s business.”
“Fine. A secret in exchange for another question.”
“Deal. But I get to veto the question.”
“Done,” Ethan replied, leaning forward again, this time with his hand outstretched to seal our new deal.
I wiped my crumb-covered fingers on my uniform before reaching for his hand.
The gesture itself was perfectly normal, but the effect it had on me was anything but.
A soft jolt of electricity shot up my arm—entirely out of place and entirely unwelcome.
I ignored it. It meant nothing, absolutely nothing!
I blamed our earlier hug for my body now reading far too much into everything Ethan-related.
He squeezed my fingers without breaking eye contact, and I held my breath.
I didn’t exhale until he released my hand and leant back against the wall.
As much as I disliked the effect Ethan had on me, I welcomed the distraction from the reason I was sitting in the hallway.
“You start this time. I won’t let you take me for a ride again.”
Ethan’s lips twitched. “Gracie, if I took you for a ride, you’d never want me to stop.”
I rolled my eyes, though I feared he might be right . . . But we’d never find out, so I immediately banished the image his words conjured.
“OK then, let’s hear it. What dirty little secret do you have for me?”
“I hate living at the hotel.” His reply came instantly, as if it were something he’d thought about often.
“I thought you liked it here,” I replied, surprised.
“Not at all. I hate living in a place full of strangers coming and going every night, where I’m never truly alone.
I’m always being watched, and I can’t leave without at least half a dozen people noticing.
And I—” He broke off and pressed his lips together, as if he’d almost said too much.
At the same time, he looked like he had so much more he wanted to say.
“Anyway, I want a home of my own, a place that belongs just to me. And where the only people who might see me are my neighbours.”
“So why don’t you move out? It’s not like money should be a problem.”
“It’s not. But I don’t want to leave my mum alone. As you can probably guess, she’s going through a pretty rough time right now.”