Tash inspects the map, handing it to me with a quizzical look. ‘How are we even supposed to find our own suites on this?’ she sighs.
I take it and quickly study it. The map is simply a whole jumble of lines, directions and advertisements. The Venetian is a very complex hotel with many floors and thousands of rooms.
Sister Kevin whips it from my hand. ‘Allow me.’ Within seconds he has located the spot we’re in and pointed us in the direction we need to go for each of our rooms. ‘I haven’t been navigating enemy terrain for this many years without learning how to read a map,’ he says, beaming at Tash.
Thank God. He’s military. No wonder he was so tight-lipped about it all. He’ll be off duty or some such. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Big Sue gives him a look of admiration. ‘Now all we need is eyes on the target.’
‘Roger that,’ confirms Sister Kevin with a quick salute.
I’m just about to ask which regiment he’s with when Tash answers for him.
She hangs off his beefy arm. ‘He’s a professional gamer,’ she boasts. We take a beat. Is there such a role? ‘In his spare time. Tuesday nights, mostly.’
Once again, my heart sinks. ‘I’ll ring Luke.’
We listen to Luke’s phone go straight to voicemail.
‘He’s either blocked your number, is refusing to pick up or he’s dead already,’ says Big Mand.
I race over to the phone on the cabinet beside Liberty and ring reception.
‘They might ring his room for us,’ I explain. I replace the handset when, after five minutes, the number rings out.
‘We’re wasting time,’ warns Big Sue. ‘We need to split up. Connie and Matteo, you go down to reception to find Luke. Ged and Liam, you come with us to find Hank Junior.’
I see my best friends turn pale yellow and feel a stab of guilt in my stomach.
Matteo walks over to them. ‘It’ll be okay, guys. We’ll find Luke and make sure everything is sorted out. If you see Hank, do not approach him. Ring me, and I’ll come to where you are.’ They are looking at him in awe. ‘Do you understand? None of you approach him. It’s too dangerous.’
My heart is swelling to five times its size.
* * *
Matteo and I hurry down to reception to beg, beg, beg the staff to help me.
‘Wait in line, ma’am,’ I’m told.
Gah!
The clock is ticking. I’m scanning the passing hordes frantically, while the never-ending queue of guests checking in seems to get longer, not shorter. I have rung Luke’s number fourteen times. Still no answer.
By the time we get to the front, I’m a gibbering wreck. ‘Can you tell me which room Luke, erm, Luke…’Oh, God. What’s his surname?
The receptionist raises an eyebrow. ‘I have a long line of people to check in, ma’am.’
‘Try Count Nikolai of the House of Glucksburg!’
She taps the keyboard, shaking her head as though I’ve asked her to type in Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter.
‘Try Nick, Nic. Nicholas. Nicky! For Christ’s sake, he’s a famous opera singer! He’s always on TikTok showing off!’ I end up yelling at her.
She gives me a pitiful shrug.
It is clear that Luke has checked in under a pseudonym.
‘Perhaps if you tell me what the urgency is?’ she asks, taking in my wedding dress.
