“All right, when you ask about it, they’ll say you won the racetrack special or something.”
“Racetrack special?”
“It happened to another flight attendant once. A weird promotion discount unless you ask for it, but in this case it’s not a real thing. I don’t know, Raine. But they’re going to lie and not tell you someone paid for a very nice upgrade. Theerror, if there is one, is they most likely weren’t supposed to refund your deposit for the room. And they certainly weren’t supposed to tell you about it.”
I hate it that she makes sense. Her eyebrows go up and her fists land on her hips.
“You look like Mom,” I say.
“Take that back,” Wren says.
“Nope, it’s true.” I laugh and dart into the bathroom, closing the door with more force than I should in a hotel like this. I gasp and pivot, opening the door back up. “Wren, shh. And come in here.” The bathroom looks out the back of the hotel. A large brass tub has a view out a circular window of a snow-covered mountain.
“Shut up.”
“It’s stunning.”
“I think rural Switzerland has just taken over from Kyoto Japan for my favorite place in the world.” Wren sinks down to a wooden stool next to the tub.
“Well, I haven’t been anywhere but New York, home, and here. And it’s definitely got home beat out.”
“You still want to go ask them if it’s a mistake?”
“No, that’s okay. You take a nap and we can go explore afterwards.”
“Just a quick lean over.”
“What?”
“Sorry, it’s when you aren’t given a full ten hours off for sleeping, because your day didn’t start until late in the afternoon. I just need forty-five minutes.” Back in the bedroom, Wren crawls under the covers of the king-size bed and pulls her sleeping mask over her eyes.
I should sleep too. But I don’t think I can. My brain is whirling. I think Wren’s right. One of them upgraded us tothis, and I don’t know what to think about it. There’s a buzzing in my ears that’s taking over.
I grab the key from where Wren left it and my crossbody bag. Then I sneak out of the suite, letting the door close with a soft click.
I smile at the clerk behind the desk but decide not to ask. I’m not going to go up and move Wren.
It’s definitely cooler today, but it’s still warm. Out the back door, there’s a patio. A curly-haired woman sits doing a crossword puzzle in pen. She looks American, but I could be wrong; I’m no fashionista.
“Hi.” I wave at her.
She nods and keeps reading her paper, lowering her pen when she does. Then I notice she’s wearing one of those things in her ear, like they do in action movies.
43
RAINE
Ishould just keep walking. But there’s a pull on me that makes me sit down. Why does this curly-blonde-haired woman have an earpiece on? I pick a table two away from hers and sit facing her. I take my phone out and stare at it like I’m super busy and should be doing something other than sitting on a glorious deck facing the Alps.
Nope, can’t do it. I can’t pretend. It’s like a bubbling caldron of uncool pulses at me.
“Are you visiting someone?” I ask.
“Just touring.” She picks her pen back up again.
“It’s so pretty here.” Because I have a habit of pushing through social cues ofleave me alone.Wren frequently reminds me that I don’t have to be everyone’s friend. But it’s a hard habit to break.
“It is,” she says in what’s definitely an American accent, but I have no idea from where. She’s right back at her crossword puzzle.
