He shakes his head. “Thank you, ma’am, but no. I’m like you. I don’t enjoy places with too many people.”
I wonder if it’s because of his experiences as a policeofficer, because he’s antisocial, or a combination of the two. He doesn’t volunteer any more information. I decide not to probe.
Turning tail, we head back for the palace. Lillian’s pace is slowing. She’s ready for her last meal of the day and bed. Just like me. I cover a yawn with my hand.
Art walks me to the palace’s main doors. “Good evening, ma’am. Arthur.” Bill, one of the night guards waves to us.
“Cheers, Bill,” I say. “Is it you and Killian tonight?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I know I’m in good hands.” I wink.
Bill chuckles. “Do you need me to sign anything back in for you, Arthur?”
“No. I took care of it all earlier.” He shoves his hands back into his pockets. “I’ll leave you here, ma’am. Have a good night. Bill.” He nods to the guard.
“You too.” I wave as he walks away toward the staff entrance.
Bill scratches Lillian’s ears. “That rookie is certainly devoted to his work.”
“Oh?”
“Arthur insisted on being the one who accompanied you on your walk with Lillian tonight.” He shakes his head. “Killian and I assured him we could manage just fine, but the young man wouldn’t take no for an answer, even though he’d already clocked out.” Bill slips my spaniel a treat from his pocket, then stands. “I guess all rookies feel they have something to prove.”
I spend a few more minutes chatting with one of the palace’s long-time officers before heading up to my room. Thoughts of Art swirl around my brain. He insisted on being with me even though he was already done for the evening? Why? Does he feel that he has a lot to prove? Or is it something more?
Unlocking the door, I slip Lillian’s harness off her and watch her pad over to her food and water dishes. I lie down on my bed, intending to replay some of the day’s moments in my head, but as soon as my head touches the pillow, I fall asleep. Figuring out my personal protection officer will have to wait another day.
Ten
“Welcome back to Charlie’s, ma’am. We’re honored to have you as our guest today. If you’d please follow me, Mr. Walsh is expecting you,” the maître’d says as he leads me through the main dining room to a private room in the back of the club. It’s Tuesday afternoon the following week, and time for my date with Eric.
Falling back a half step, I joke to Art, “Did you need to do a perimeter sweep?”
“No, ma’am. Angela did it.” His tone is short and clipped.
I don’t understand why he’s changed so much from the other night. Haven’t we gotten past this? I don’t think he’s hangry. I make a mental note to myself to ensure that both Angela and Art are treated to whatever they want for lunch.
“Here we are, the Garden Room.” The door opens, and I’m greeted by the scent of fresh flowers. There are dozens of arrangements incorporated into a living wall, with a water feature as the centerpiece. It’s one of my favorite rooms in the club.
I wonder if I could create something like this in my own flat. The only tricky bit would be figuring out how to incorporate the plumbing into the wall. I’d need an existing connection to the water main. I can’tsee my parents approving the extra cost of adding it since it’s only for aesthetic purposes. If I did a smaller-scale project, I wonder if I could use the external plumbing from a fish aquarium.
I store all those thoughts away for later. At the only table in the center of the room is Eric. He stands up so quickly that his chair topples over. I bite back my laugh.
“Alice, you made it!” he says.
“I did.” I smile.
“Ma’am, I’ll be just outside the door if you need me,” Arthur murmurs flatly before he leaves me.
“Okay,” I say without turning around.
I approach the table. Eric quickly picks up his chair and rushes around to the other side, beating the maître’d to pulling out my chair for me. “I’ve got it,” he insists.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome.”
