Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. “We’ll find him.”
“I’ll never stop looking.”
“I know.” She pushed off the stool. “C’mon, baby. We gotta sleep.”
Once they were in bed, she asked, “How often do you stop by your hotel?”
“When my life isn’t spinning out of control, I go by twice a week,” he replied.
“What about tomorrow?”
He cuddled close behind her, draped a protective arm around her. “That’s my question for you, Britain. Areyougoing to be there tomorrow?”
“So, you know Liliana’s got her speaking engagement.”
“I know everything going on in my hotel,” he replied.
She released a harrumph. “I don’t want to, but it’s important to Addison that I go. Will you be there?”
He gave her a loving squeeze. “I’ll be right beside you the entire time.”
The following afternoon,Brit and Addison entered the busy Hotel Dillinger with Rebel and Hawk close behind.
As they made their way through the spacious lobby, Brit asked Addison, “Have you seen the Bohemian lounge?”
“Yes. I love looking through the vinyls. Hawk and I have been here a bunch of times. The hotel’s got a great vibe.”
“I’m having an expensive glass of something in the lounge after I sit through this BS,” Brit murmured.
They made their way toward the ballrooms and salons. Rounding the corner, the throngs of milling people had them stopping short.
“It’s packed,” Brit said.
“Cult survivors draw a big crowd,” Rebel said. “People are curious.”
“People arecrazy,” Hawk said.
Brit and Rebel exchanged glances.
“Do they know your motto?” Rebel asked.
Addison smiled. “I do.”
“Nope,” Hawk replied.
“Life’s short, shit happens, people are mostly crazy,” Brit said.
Hawk laughed. “That sounds about right.”
They made their way to the check-in table. When Brit gave her name, the woman said, “You have VIP tickets. You’re in the front row.”
Oh, no.
With tix in hand, they made their way inside.
“I’ve never seen a ballroom like this,” Brit said. “Very artsy.”
Behind a sheet of plexiglass, a waterfall stood against the far wall while hundreds of dangling pendant lights glimmered like diamonds overhead. Neat rows of chairs—shaped like hands, palms up with fingers as backrests—filled the large space.
