Chapter 18
CASSANDRA
After Lila left the room on Thursday, I’d picked myself up and gone about my day, checking in with all my departments and answering calls and emails I’d been putting off while I’d been with Blake.
And while my heart felt heavy, my shoulders felt lighter.
I realized I’d been hanging onto preemptive guilt. I’d known what Blake and I had could devastate Lila, and I couldn’t in good conscience do that to another person. I felt liberated. Heartbroken, but liberated.
It stung that Blake hadn’t even so much as texted since last week, but I shrugged it off. It didn’t matter. I’d see him next week for the final part of the review, and that would be that.
I was fine.
Completely fine.
Or I would be.
By the time Monday rolled around, I was actually looking forward to meeting with Lila for the construction walk-through.
It had been awhile since I’d been into the east wing.
I stayed away because normally, it depressed me.
It was a public representation of what George had done to our resort.
I didn’t resent him for it—he’d been trying to save the hotel. He’d just colossally screwed up.
I could relate to that.
A sheet of polyvinyl covered the lobby entrance to the east wing, and when I stepped through, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The space was dark—the only light that came in was filtered through the plastic from the lobby behind me, and from a few of the room doors that had been propped open.
Those rooms were ones where construction had started on and were stripped down to the studs, I knew.
The place smelled stale, with undercurrents of sawdust and oil from whatever machinery or tools had been in here last year.
But as I walked, I found my eyes drawn to a space far down at the end of the hall. A space where two doors had a longer stretch of wall between them.
That was where the hotel’s previous owners had boarded up Room 114.
For a moment, the air seemed to crackle around me, and the hairs on the backs of my arms stood up.
Behind me, the sounds of the lobby—the click of high heels and ring of laughter and conversation—seemed to grow muted.
What if Dad was right? What if the ghost of Eleanor Cleary was real?
Okay, no. There was no way. But maybe he was right about the actual history. Maybe she’d been murdered here by her husband and—
The plastic crinkled behind me and I nearly jumped out of my sensible heels.
“Whoa!” Blake exclaimed, his hands up.
I couldn’t help it, I shrieked. “Ship swell mother bells!” I yelled.
Blake’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”
My heart was pounding too hard to respond. I leaned forward, hands on my legs, catching my breath.
Finally, I stood up straight and allowed myself to register that Blake was standing before me.
Trying to hold in a laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just a little… creepy in here.”
“What exactly did you say back there?”
I grimaced. “Ship swell mother bells. My dad used to say that when he couldn’t swear around us.”
Blake frowned, nodding. “I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”
Then my heart finally caught up to me, squeezing in my chest. This was Blake. The Blake I’d been with in carnal ways last week. The one who knew how I took my coffee and that I used too-elaborate ‘shortcuts’ on my spreadsheets.
The one who was staying in his fake marriage to protect a friend and their business and because he didn’t want to be with anyone in the long term, anyway.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I said. Was my voice stiff? I tried to relax. But now that I was over the shock of having the living daylights scared out of me, my heart felt like it was cracking right in two.
I knew I could have run into him anywhere in the building. But somehow, I still thought I’d have more time to prepare for his effect on me.
“I asked Lila if I could take this meeting,” he said.
I swallowed. “Why?”
“Because I spent a whole week away from you, and it nearly killed me. In two weeks, Lila and I will be home in New York, preparing for our next project.”
While my heart squeezed at the first part, the way he finished was like he was reminding me of the cold, hard facts.
“And I’ll just be a distant memory.” I was unable to keep the wobble out of my voice.
Blake’s face looked physically pained. I couldn’t look at him.
I turned and looked down the hall, but his presence seared my back with heat.
I remembered that night on the other side of the hotel, when I’d brought him up to that empty room.
I hadn’t needed to check that he was behind me—I could feel him.
For a moment we were quiet, the only sounds the muffled lobby noises and the rush of blood in my ears. Hot tears filled my eyes.
“Cassandra.” Blake’s voice was strained. “You know it has to be this way.”
“Of course I know!” I cried, turning back to him. My voice echoed down the hall around us and I swallowed, embarrassed. I knew because I’d made sure of it.
Blake had pulled his mouth into a straight line and he stuffed his hands under his arms. “It’s not like this makes me happy.”
I laughed at this, a dull, dry laugh that didn’t feel funny. “I don’t think you know what makes you happy.”
Blake said nothing for a moment, just looked at my face with the quickest flash of infinite sorrow. Then he nodded. “You’re probably right.”
My mind screamed at him. Stay. Stay and we’ll figure it out. But I couldn’t say it. I’d already made my decision, and so had he. Anything else would just mess things up worse than they already were.
“Cass, I have to tell you something.”
But I shook my head. “Is it that you care about me, Blake? That you have feelings for me?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it again.
My chest felt heavy. “Then it doesn’t matter.
Don’t you see? You’re leaving. Anything else we share with each other is just going to make things harder.
” I took a breath. “Why don’t we spend the last of our time together not pontificating, or fighting, but just… enjoying the good parts?”
I tried a smile then, as if I could force myself into enjoying this.
He wasn’t smiling. “There’s just one—”
“No, I—”
“Goddammit Cassandra, will you let me finish?”
I clamped my mouth shut.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning, okay? I’m catching a plane to London.”
I gaped. “London, England?”
“Yes. We have a client there who’s getting cold feet. We thought it would be better if we nipped things in the bud. Brynn’s going to step in and assist Lila with the final portion of the review.”
He must have seen that my jaw was still hanging open, because he said, “I’ll reduce our fees for the final two weeks, of course.”
“You think that’s what I care about?” I said.
“No. But it’s only fair.”
I took a breath. I didn’t care about the fees I’d be billed for later. I didn’t care about anything at all, except the fact that this was probably the last time I’d ever see Blake.
The tears came back then, and when I blinked, they didn’t go away. They spilled over, running down my cheeks.
Blake didn’t hesitate. He just pulled me to him, wrapping me in his arms. I sobbed then, hitting my fist against his chest just once, where his heart was.
We stood there, Blake holding me, stroking my hair, whispering words in my ear to if not soothe my tattered heart, to patch it up for this one, final night.
Eventually, my tears died down. I pulled back, wiping at my face with the heels of my hands, embarrassed.
I couldn’t look at Blake. But I knew I didn’t want to spend the day weeping, or like I said before, bemoaning our situation or fighting.
I wanted to make the most of it. “Is there anything you have to do tonight?” I asked.
“No, I’m mostly packed.”
I don’t know why that stung, but I nodded. “Okay. Well, what do you say we go out on a date?”
Blake grinned and I couldn’t help it, I brought my finger up and pressed it to his dimple, over the bristle of hair there. “It sounds perfect,” he said, his voice going thick with emotion. Then his smile dropped, his eyes on mine, and he pulled me back in. “But can we kiss now?”
“We can do all the things now,” I whispered. All the things for the last time.
Blake took my cheeks in his hands and brought his mouth to mine. The kiss was so tender; so soft and perfect, I nearly cried again. But I didn’t. I fell into it, allowing myself to go to that soft, open place. Might as well do the last night together right.
When Blake pulled away, I kept my eyes closed for the briefest second, relishing the memory of it on my lips. Then I opened my eyes and smiled at Blake.
Outside in the lobby, someone went running by, their shoes squeaking, and I heard the soft rumble of a bellhop pushing a luggage cart.
“Actually,” I said, “I hate to say it, but it would be good if we did what we came here to do today.” The sounds of daily life at the hotel had reminded me that I wouldn’t have time to reschedule this tour.
At the end of last week, I’d called off the people who’d been filling in for various aspects of my job, planning on getting back to my regular routine.
It had been so I’d have an excuse to see less of Blake and Lila, only making room for the official meetings.
Now I was glad I had, as keeping busy would probably be the only thing keeping me afloat after Blake left.
“As you wish, Cass. I was looking forward to this too.”
“So it wasn’t just me you wanted to see?”
He shrugged. “You were a nice bonus.”
I fake-shoved him, laughing. It felt both good and tragic to laugh, but I vowed right at that moment not to let the sadness take over. Not today.
“Should we start upstairs?” Blake asked. “Work our way down?”
Just then, there was a soft thud from down in the shadowy hall.
Both of us froze.
“What the hell?” Blake said.
“Room 114!” I said, my voice hardly more than a whisper.
Blake looked at me, confused.
What do I say, the ghost? Eleanor?