She grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
As she turns to head back inside, almost skipping, I call out, “Pack light. And no smuggling any suspicious-looking squirrels in your luggage!”
She turns back, laughing. “No promises!” Then she disappears into the house, leaving me standing there, fighting a smile despite the worry gnawing at my gut.
I spend the next few hours coordinating security measures for the trip. It’s a logistical nightmare, but I’m determined to keep Cora safe, even if it means calling in every favor I have.
As the day progresses, the conversation with Mercer replays in my mind, each detail scrutinized for any clue I might have overlooked.
Around noon, I hear the clack of heels on marble and look up to see Cora descending the grand staircase, a vision in a flowing summer dress. She’s talking animatedly on her phone, no doubt making arrangements for the Hawaii trip.
“No, absolutely not,” she says as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t care if he’s the groom’s best friend. We are not having live pythons at the reception. This is a wedding, not a circus... Well, yes, I know Valerie likes to make a statement, but there are limits.”
I can’t help but chuckle, earning me a mock glare from Cora.
She covers the mouthpiece of her phone and whispers, “Don’t encourage them. Next thing you know, they’ll be asking for fire-breathing dragons as ring bearers.”
“Wouldn’t put it past them,” I mutter, imagining the security nightmare that would entail.
Cora rolls her eyes and returns to her call, pacing the foyer as she argues about floral arrangements and seating charts. I try to focus on my own work but find my gaze continually drawn to her, like a compass needle to true north.
The way she moves, the passion in her voice as she fights for her vision—it’s mesmerizing.
And dangerous.
Mercer’s warning echoes in my mind. Am I getting too involved? The lines between professional duty and personal feelings are blurring, and I’m not sure I can find my way back to solid ground.
I force my attention back to the security plans, but the doubt lingers. Can I keep Cora safe if I can’t even trust myself?
Seventeen
CORA
“What do you mean there are no rooms available?” Sweat beads at my temples, and I resist the urge to fan myself with the glossy hotel brochure showing pristine Waikiki beaches. The weight of my silk blouse feels suffocating after the six-hour flight from LAX.
“Talk to Valerie. She said she’d arrange rooms for me.”
I stand at the polished mahogany reception desk, the air conditioning a blessed relief against my heated skin. Behind the desk, a wall of windows frames swaying palm trees and the endless Pacific. It would be beautiful if I weren't so irritated.
“All our rooms are occupied with wedding guests,” the receptionist says as she purses her lips. “Unless Miss Johnson wants us to evict one of her guests, she can’t conjure a room out of thin air.”
“Shit.” I turn to Ryder, who stands behind me, his face an impassive mask. Not helping.
I spin back to the receptionist. “I need a room in this hotel. There must be something you can do. Call the manager.”
“I am the shift manager,” the woman says, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “The only option I have?—”
“Yes.” I grip the edge of the counter. “I’ll take whatever’s available.” I can make do with a broom closet at this point. Even the staff quarters if necessary. I have to sleep here. Valerie chose an isolated hotel, and there’s nowhere else to stay within miles unless I fancy sleeping on the beach with the crabs.
“The only option I have,” she continues, “is the honeymoon suite.”
“What?” I furrow my brow. “But that’s for the couple. Isn’t it taken?”
“The hotel has two honeymoon suites available for two simultaneous weddings.” The manager’s tone suggests she’s explaining quantum physics to a toddler. “And since the hotel is at full capacity because of Miss Johnson’s wedding?—”
“The second suite is available,” I finish for her. “But we need two rooms. One for me and one for Ryder here. We’re not a couple.”
The receptionist’s eyes light up at my words like I’ve just told her Christmas came early. She eyes Ryder, and I fight the urge to claw her eyes out.Back off, sister. He’s not available.Not that he’s mine, but…Oh, shut up, brain.
