He held the basket of bath stuff, all wrapped in cellophane and tissue paper, up by his chest to hide his face as he crossedthe hotel lobby. Dimly lit crystal chandeliers blushed the room with a golden glow. The sound of his steps on the marble floor was muted by the wood walls painted black. The golden elevator door opened and a pair of teens stepped out, too absorbed in their phones to pay any attention to him.
What he really wanted was to see Allie again—to talk. Just talk more. The desire was strong enough to propel him into the elevator to do something stupid.
The easy-going way she’d brushed off getting his autograph could have been an act, but Mark didn’t think so. And after the way George had behaved, Mark was pretty sure he was the one who had asked for an extra room.
That left Mark with a problem.
He’d met a woman who hadn’t asked for a part of him and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about her. He stared at the buttons as the elevator took him to the second floor. He could still hear her clear voice and see the joy light up her face as she talked about those kids. He wished his church had a children’s choir. Chloe could sing and she’d love to participate. Performing in a group would be a good way for her to get used to being in front of people too.
That was his ticket—he’d ask Allie about her church, and he and Chloe could visit this Sunday. With a clear plan of action, Mark squared his
shoulders and waited for the doors to open.
Room 216 was easy enough to find. There was loud music pouring from underneath and around the door, spewing into the hallway. Mark raised his eyebrows as he knocked on the door.
A woman in a white bathrobe opened the door and gave him the once over. She recognized him immediately. “You’re Mark Dubois. Honey— come see this. It’s Mark!”
She used his first name as if they were friends. George popped his head into the hallway. “Mark! My man. Come on in.” George adopted a sense of familiarity that caused the hair on the back of Mark’s neck to stand on end.
“I can’t. I was just delivering this to Allie—is she around?” He couldn’t imagine her hanging out with these two, but stranger things had happened. She was so nice, maybe she’d asked them to stay for a while before going to their hotel.
“Naw, they carted her off to some other hotel. Me and my lady are living it up tonight—aren’t we babe?”
“We sure are.” She ran her hand down her chest, opening her robe a few more inches in the process. Mark quickly averted his eyes. Wait—If George was here, that meant that Allie was at a dive hotel. “You guys can have this, then. Have a great night.” Mark shoved the bag of bath stuff at George and took off down the hallway. The elevator didn’t open right away, so he hit the stairwell, pulling his phone out of his back pocket as he ran.
Kate picked up on the third ring. “What did you do?” he demanded. “What?” Kate sounded like she might have been asleep. He wouldn’t blame her for going to bed, especially since she’d had to deal with George for most of the day.
“Allie was supposed to be at the Ritz, not that sleazeball cop.” “Technically he was the one who held the winning ticket, and I didn’t think kicking him out would be a good idea,” defended Kate. “He could
have sued or demanded a redo of the entire day or who knows what gumbo he would have cooked up.”
Mark handed his ticket to the valet. “Any gentleman would have given the lady the better room.”
“Well, obviously he’s not a gentleman.”
Mark cursed. “I’ve got to fix this.”
“What can I do to help?” Kate was firing on all cylinders now. “See if you can get her a room here, on a different floor. I’m going to get her.”
“I’m sending directions to her hotel to your phone. I’ll call you right back about the room.”
They hung up just as his car was delivered to the curb. He tipped the silver-haired man and slid behind the wheel. His phone beeped and he set the GPS.
A half hour later he pulled into the cracked and weathered parking lot of the One Night Only Motel. An airport shuttle bus was parked just to the left of the front door and three rough-looking characters hung out on the bench, smoking and grumbling about the short stick life had given them. Allie’s room was just to the left. The lights on low. Good, at least she was still awake.
The men eyed Mark’s car, one of them letting out a low whistle. “How ’bout a ride?”
“Sorry, fellas, I’m on a mission.”
If his skin crawled when he walked passed these guys, how had Allie felt? He was such an idiot for sending her here. He knocked quickly and took a step back, his senses on high alert and his martial arts training sparking to life.
The curtain parted letting a sliver of light escape. “Allie? It’s me, Mark,” he said to the crack, sounding stupid and desperate. He owned both emotions because he’d been stupid to let her stay here and not check deeper into the arrangements. And he was desperate to get this little ray of sunshine out of the darkness.
A chain rattled, a deadbolt slid to the side, and the lock on the handle popped before the door cracked open. Allie blocked the entrance with her body, her hand clutching her ratted robe closed over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to get you.” He barged into the room and shut the door behind them, throwing the deadbolt as a precaution. Better to avoid a fight than allow one to come through the door.
“You can’t just come into my—wait, get me? What do you mean get me?” She took a step back.
