Hotel Ruby (19 page)

“A chance?” I repeat, incredulous.

“This is our opportunity to start over. Isn't that what you want?”

I stare at him; the color's returned to his cheeks, his hair
is well kept, and his clothes are stylish. I haven't seen him like this since Mom died, and I've missed him. I've missed having a father. “It is what I want,” I say, confused. “But—”

“Then it's settled,” he says, the rest of my sentence unimportant. “Popcorn?” He outstretches the bag in my direction. “They have candy, too. This is supposed to be a great movie, but the summary was pretty vague. We'll see, I guess.”

I take the popcorn even though I'd choke if I tried to eat anything right now. I don't understand what's going on with him and Daniel. The concierge is spying on us, threatening his staff. Am I the one overreacting?

The lights in the room go dark and I gasp. The popcorn falls from my hands, sending white kernels scattering across the black floor at my feet. Right then the screen illuminates and previews start. Patrons lean forward to watch, smiling and content. I ease back in the chair.

My father looks down at the floor and reaches to pick up the bag I dropped. “I'll go grab us another popcorn,” he whispers. “Be right back, kid.”

People laugh at something on-screen, but I can't pay attention. My mind keeps turning back to Daniel. Why did he bring up my mother? And exactly how long do he and my father plan on staying here? Living at a hotel may be okay for Elias, but I don't want to spend my life wandering around the Ruby, terrified of Kenneth. I glance at the door, considering leaving, but before I can make the decision, my
father is scooting back down the aisle. He hands me a new bag of popcorn as he passes.

“Got you Junior Mints,” he whispers. “They're your favorite, right?”

My automatic response is to say no, because my father hasn't guessed a correct thing about me in a long while. But this time . . . “Right,” I say, taking the white box from his hand. “They are my favorite.”

I look down at the candy, still afraid, but maybe a little less so. I turn to my father as he sits down and settles in, smiling before taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth. I watch him until he laughs, pointing at the screen, and then I turn away.

When my fear has faded enough, I take a few bites of popcorn and open my Junior Mints. In a way my father's right—maybe we are better here. At least for another night. I sit back and watch the show.

T
he movie ends. My father looks over at me as the lights come up. “That was actually funny,” he says. “They need to hire better people to write those descriptions. I wouldn't have even stayed if I weren't meeting you.”

I return his smile, his affection feeling genuine though it still catches me off guard. The room starts to empty, and my father and I walk toward the exit, tossing what's left of our snacks in the trash can near the door. I pretend not to notice the guard, even as he watches me.

“Where are you heading to now?” my father asks, holding open the door for me to leave first. “We could probably grab dinner if you're hungry.”

Distracted, I keep a careful eye on everything around us. “Uh . . .” I'm considering fried chicken when the crowd in the lobby suddenly quiets.

“Mr. Casella,” Kenneth says. My stomach sinks, and I turn slowly to face the concierge as he stands next to my father. Kenneth glances at me. “Miss Casella, nice to see you enjoying the Ruby.”

“Whatever,” I say, annoyed that he'd pretend to be polite to me in front of my father. For his part, my father
tenses like he's expecting bad news. Does he really think I'm acting out? He turns to Kenneth, but instead of apologizing, he stoops his shoulders.

“I need more time,” he says quietly. Kenneth is unmoved, lifting his chin in a pompous way to look down his nose. “Please,” my father goes on, “just another few days.”

“What?” I demand. First of all, I just finished telling my father that I wanted out of this place, and now he's begging the concierge to let us stay? Is he nuts? And what gives—did my dad run out of money? I hardly think this is Kenneth's call.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Casella,” Kenneth replies, ignoring me. “But this is the final warning. You remember what we talked out, yes?”

My father touches his throat, a sudden flinch of pain. My anger is quickly replaced with fear, terror reverberating from my father to me. Whatever they've talked out—it's not good. I step in and take my father's arm.

“Believe me,” I tell Kenneth, trying to act brave. “We're out of here in the morning. You can count on that.”

Kenneth flashes me a look of disdain and then sets his eyes on my father. I swallow hard, my dad's arm shaking beneath my hand. “See to it,” Kenneth tells him. “Otherwise there will be repercussions.” He turns on his heel and walks back across the lobby.

My heart thuds against my ribs; the crowd starts talking again. My father pats my hand like the exchange
never happened, and looks down at me, smiling gently.

“Now, about dinner,” he says.

“Seriously?” I ask him. “We're not going to discuss the psycho who just threatened you? What is he talking about, Dad? Do you owe him money?”

My father shakes his head. “It's nothing like that, kid. Promise. Kenneth . . . he's uncomfortable with some of the choices you've made. He'd prefer if you left sooner than later.”

“Likewise. I think he's an asshole.”

My father's mouth twitches with a smile. “I won't even correct your language on that one.” Surprised, I laugh. “I just wish we could stay longer,” my father continues. “This has been wonderful, having us all together.” He looks over at me, his eyes glistening in the lights of the chandelier. “But after tomorrow you'll never have to deal with Kenneth again,” he says. “I swear it.”

He puts his hand to his chest like he's making an oath, and his expression is no longer frightened. I wonder if I read the signals wrong in their conversation. Kenneth clearly has it out for me, but my father might have been speaking on my behalf. Standing up for me. It reminds me of how much he's changed since we've arrived here.

Dad and I both sigh, turning to look over the gathered crowd. For the first time since my mother died, I feel like we're on the same team. We're about to discuss our dinner plans again when I see him. My heart leaps.

“Elias,” I call a little too loudly, startling several people around us. Elias looks up from where he's standing across the lobby with two older men, white-haired types with tuxedos and substantial mustaches. Elias himself has changed into a gray suit and bow tie, his hair combed smooth. His face clean shaven. He tilts his head to say something to the men and then starts through the crowd in our direction.

“Is that Elias Lange?” my father asks, sounding impressed. When I nod, he slips his hands into his pockets and smiles broadly. “That's wonderful,” he adds. “I met him at the party the other night. Nice guy.” Dad looks sideways at me. “Although your brother doesn't much like him.”

“Daniel's predictable that way,” I mumble.
At least he used to be
. No, I stop the negative thoughts. My brother will regain his sanity. Once he sees how Dad's acting, how happy the three of us can be in Phoenix, he'll come back to his senses.

My dad shifts, anticipating Elias as he gets closer. I watch with nervous tension, realizing that I never went back to meet Elias at the café. He's probably wondering what happened to me. God, I hope this isn't awkward. My shoulders fall—of course it will be. I'm standing here with my dad.

Elias is taller than most of the other guests. Warm and charming, he murmurs hello as he passes them, clasping their shoulders or shaking their hands. My pulse continues to climb, and when he comes to stop in front of us, he nods
politely to my father. “Mr. Casella,” he says, outstretching his arm. My dad chuckles, not used to the politeness and respect he's been receiving here at the Ruby.

After what feels like a long pause, Elias turns to me. We stare for a moment, and then he smiles. “Audrey,” he murmurs, holding out his palm. So. Damn. Charming. I slip my hand into his, and he lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses them. “You look lovely,” he adds, and winks.

“Thank you,” I say, probably turning about a million shades of pink. Although Ryan would occasionally hug me in front of my parents, he'd never kiss my hand. It's so . . . intimate.

Elias looks past us to see the emptying theater. “How was the movie?” he asks my father, already on his good side.

My father begins to retell his favorite parts, but I've stopped listening, instead checking out Elias in his suit. There's a swell of affection at the way he seems to say just the right things, how he flashes me a smile every now and then to let me know that he hasn't forgotten I'm there. When the conversation starts to run long, I decide I want him to myself. He's the only thing that makes sense anymore.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I say, moving to take Elias's arm. He slides his hand over mine and turns to me. “Can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, earning a chuckle from my father.

“Uh-oh,” my father says to Elias. “That's a loaded question.”

I roll my eyes. “Way to minimize my feelings, Dad.”

“I'm sorry,” my father starts, but I wave it off.

“I was just kidding,” I tell him, earning a relieved smile. “I'll see you later tonight.”

“I hope so, Audrey,” he responds with a sudden bout of sadness. “Today was a good day. I've missed those. I have the Ruby to thank for that.”

There's a sudden feeling of abandonment, like I'm losing him all over again. My unease returns, and I back away from my father. “Let's go,” I whisper to Elias, pulling him toward the hallway. Confused, Elias says good-bye, and then we're walking swiftly out of the crowd toward the hallway. I'd just started to accept that our lives were getting back to normal, or at least on the outskirts of normal, and then my dad had to go and act all brainwashed again.

“You plan to tell me what's going on?” Elias asks curiously. “I spent an hour longer than necessary at the café.” Last he knew, we were making plans to spend a sportive evening in his room. Unfortunately for both of us, things have changed.

A couple appears at the end of the hallway, falling into each other and laughing. The woman is wearing an elegant green dress, but judging from her and her companion's wobbly steps, they've spent the better part of the evening at the bar. Neither of them notices us, and Elias puts his hand on the small of my back.

“In here,” he says, moving us to the other end of the
hallway near a large wooden door. I didn't notice this entrance before, and as we walk inside, I watch the people go by. They don't even glance in our direction. Elias calls to me and goes to sit in one of the oversize leather chairs in the corner.

“Whoa,” I say, looking around. There are tall bookcases and an enormous gray-stone fireplace. Above the mantel is a green and brown painting of a field, muted and masculine. There are several pool tables on one side of the room, near the oversize leaded windows, and dark brown leather furniture. Now that we're away from the lobby, I'm calmer. Or maybe it's Elias.

“This used to be the gentlemen's room,” he says, crossing his foot over his knee. “Now it's the billiard room, but most people forget it's here.”

“Boys' club, huh?” I ask. I wander over to a shelf and run my gaze over the spines of the books. They're old, some antique, but I recognize the titles from English class.

“Audrey,” Elias says softly. “Although I love being dragged away, I can tell something's bothering you. Care to elaborate?” Elias's face has grown serious. Almost expectant.

“Will you think I'm overreacting?” I ask.

“Probably not.”

He lives here. Would it surprise him if I told him that I think the Ruby has brainwashed my family? If I told him that I think Kenneth means to hurt me? As I decide where
to begin, Elias grows more worried. He comes over and stands facing me, his arms crossed over his chest.

“It's the hotel,” I start. “It's affecting my father and brother, changed their personalities.”

Elias tilts his head curiously. “How so?”

“Daniel isn't going to our grandmother's anymore,” I say, sick at the words. “He abandoned me, and he was cruel. He said not to trust anyone, and that no matter what, I have to leave tomorrow. Like, what?” I ask, confused. “No offense, but my brother can't
live here.
I went downstairs and told my dad that I wanted the three of us to get out now, but he blew it off. He said we were better here—and in a way he might be right. But . . . I don't want to stay at the Ruby anymore. I'm scared of this place. I'm scared of what's happening.” I roll my eyes, aware of how insane I sound. “I think my family's possessed,” I add, wanting Elias to laugh. But he doesn't. He lowers his eyes.

“They looked happy, Audrey,” he says quietly. “When I saw them last night at the party”—he lifts his gaze to mine—“they were both happy. Isn't that a good thing?”

“Uh, sure. Except for the fact that they aren't actually happy. They're grieving—we're all grieving. And although I'm all for denial, this is different. I think it has to do with Kenneth.”

Now, this seems to surprise Elias. “What does Kenneth have to do with this?” he asks. “Did he say something to you?”

“More like threaten.”

Color blazes on Elias's cheeks and he steps closer, taking my arms. “Tell me everything,” he says. “When did this happen?”

For a moment I'm reminded of Ryan and how he tried to fix things for me. In the end I nearly got him killed. I don't want to drag Elias into the same trouble I continually find myself in. I slide my hands along his chest and drape them over his shoulders. “Never mind,” I say, wishing for his easy smile to return. “Forget I said anything.”