Given that she’d skipped today’s grocery store run, the alternative was a can of tomato soup or a bowl of cereal. Magda’s hearty stew sounded infinitely better.
* * *
On Monday morning,Knox woke with a sense of purpose. After spending much of Sunday outlining the article he planned to write, he forced himself to deal with the most painful aspect of it. Buried deep in his closet were two cardboard boxes, containing three years’ worth of memories from his time atThe Hidden Forest. Old scripts, notebooks crammed with ideas, memorabilia from various events, free merch, and his own personal journals. Before leaving Vancouver, he’d packed everything up and almost tossed the whole lot in the dumpster. In the end, he’d taken the boxes with him but never opened them.
He couldn’t avoid them any longer. If he wanted his story to be accurate, he needed to revisit his old memories, no matter how excruciating.
Today would require more coffee than usual, so he made a whole pot. Taking a cup with him, he went into the guest room, where he’d set the boxes. He opened them and tipped them out, spreading the contents across the floor. As he started leafing through his old journals, his phone buzzed with a text.
Logan: Got your message. Work’s crazy right now, but if you’re ready to spill everything, I’m all for it. I’ll call you tonight.
Knox: No rush. I haven’t started writing yet.
He was tempted to text Charlie. She might be glad to hear what he’d decided. Unless she was still simmering with anger over Saturday night. For now, he’d hold off contacting her until he’d written the article, just so he wouldn’t get derailed. Before getting started, he found Zack and Norah’s business cards and emailed both of them, telling them what he was up to. He wasn’t sure whether they’d want to be involved, but he figured they might appreciate the opportunity.
After three hours, he’d written a very rough draft. A few times, he’d been tempted to say, “fuck it” and forget the whole thing. Reading through his journals forced him to relive the humiliation all over again. To recall the hurt he’d experienced when he realized how badly Evan had betrayed him. But he pushed past the pain and kept going.
When he needed a break from rehashing his past, he threw on a fleece jacket and headed outside. Though the wind was brisk, the chill revitalized him. He walked to Chuck’s Deli and picked up an Italian meatball sub for lunch.
He was just heading back when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he peeked at the caller ID: Alejandro Rivera, the AGM of the Grand Duke.
Fuck me.Knox had forgotten he was due for an ass-kicking. Better to deal with it now.
“Hello, is this Knox?” Alejandro asked.
“Hey, Alejandro. I’m sorry about Saturday night, but I…” Knox hesitated as he scrambled to come up with a plausible excuse for leaving early. He couldn’t risk revealing the truth until he published his article.
Alejandro’s terse voice broke the silence. “How is it that you know Lila Winstead personally?”
This wasnothow Knox had expected the conversation to go. “It’s a long story, but we’re old friends. Years ago, we worked together in Vancouver. Why do you ask?”
“She sought me out yesterday and told me you weren’t to blame for leaving your post early.” He clicked his tongue. “For a bartender, you certainly have friends in high places.”
Damn. Knox couldn’t help but smile. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall when Lila reached out to Alejandro. He could only imagine the smug hotelier’s stunned reaction. “Did she tell you what happened?”
“She said her useless husband was drunk and unruly and that you tried to calm him down. When he threatened to call security, Lila suggested you and Charlie leave before things got ugly. For that, you have my profound thanks. Dealing with celebrities is difficult enough without getting caught in a tawdry scandal.”
A rush of gratitude engulfed Knox. Lila hadn’t been kidding when she’d promised to have his back. “You’re welcome. Does that mean Charlie and I will still get paid?”
“Only for the hours you worked. No exceptions. But since your ‘friend’ Lila promised to leave a glowing review of our hotel, I’d like to offer you a gift certificate for our restaurant. It’s one of the most highly reviewed dining establishments in Victoria.”
Of course it is.“Sounds good to me. Should I come by and pick it up?”
“No need. I’ll have one of our peons drop it off at your bar. Good day.”
After Alejandro hung up, Knox stared at the phone. The fact that Lila had already come through for him increased his resolve. If he kept working on his article, he could send it to Logan for review before he arrived at the Duchess on Friday with the crew fromCanada’s Most Haunted.
Once again, Knox was tempted to text Charlie, but he held off. Better to wait until after the article was done. Then he’d make it up to her by using that gift certificate to treat her to a five-star meal.
Twenty-Eight
Now that Charliehad decided to move out, she wanted to tell Knox as soon as possible. Preferably in person. All day Monday, she was itching to text him, but she forced herself to wait. Once he came in to work on Tuesday, she’d seek him out. She’d also apologize for causing a scene on Saturday night. At least the incident hadn’t gone viral. She’d been following coverage of the gala—including stalking Evan and Lila on social media—but she hadn’t seen one mention of Mac Iverson’s unexpected return.
But come Tuesday, she barely had a moment to breathe, let alone send a text. Wednesday and Thursday were even worse. The hotel was at one hundred percent occupancy, filled with guests who’d booked rooms after learning the Duchess would be featured on an episode ofCanada’s Most Haunted. Thanks to the episode’s teaser, which mentioned the hotel’s haunted storage room, the front desk had received dozens of requests for a “private tour” of the room. So far, Preston had denied them all.
Meanwhile, the Gilded Lily had been so busy Charlie had only crossed paths with Knox twice. Though he hadn’t seemed angry, he hadn’t lingered to talk to her, either. Both times, he’d greeted her with a slight smile and a quick “Hey, Charlie,” as if they were acquaintances rather than lovers who’d spent last Friday night in each other’s arms.
Then on Wednesday, he’d sent her a cryptic text:
