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“The hotel’s been busy.”
“I know. You’ve been working very late.” Chloe gathers the wineglasses. “Come to the spa with me on Saturday.”
“I might have to work.”
“The vote is Friday. Whatever happens, I’m claiming you for one day.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll book us massages.”
She smiles as if the matter is settled. The reminder of how little I’ve seen her only makes the guilt worse.
Two more days, I remind myself. Once the city rejects Eric’s hotel on Friday, I’ll tell Grandma and Chloe everything.
35
RACHEL
On Thursday afternoon, two of Grandma’s friends invite her to a welcome-home dinner. She wants to go, but she doesn’t want to leave me alone the night before the vote. I tell her Chloe is spending the evening with me, so Grandma agrees to meet them.
An hour later, Chloe calls. A new client has asked for a last-minute meeting, but she offers to cancel because she knows Grandma is going out. I lie and tell her Grandma changed her mind and will be with me.
By five, Grandma thinks I’ll be with Chloe, and Chloe thinks I’ll be with Grandma. Neither of them knows that they’re both going out—or that I won’t actually be alone.
Eric is coming over.
When I reach my building that evening, Eric is waiting beside the entrance in a charcoal suit, with a cream box tied in dark green ribbon tucked beneath one arm.
He breaks into a grin when he sees me. “I missed you.”
We only spent one night apart, but I missed him too. More than I expected.
“I missed you too.”
Upstairs, Percy meets us at the door and announces that he hasn’t been fed.
“He had breakfast,” I tell Eric.
Percy meows again.
“He says the portion was unacceptable and he’d like to speak to management.”
“I am management.”
Eric looks down at him. “He’d like someone else.”
He sets the box on the kitchen counter, takes Percy’s food from the pantry, and fills his bowl without asking where anything is. Percy begins eating while Eric removes his jacket.
By the time we settle onto the couch and I open the box of chocolates, Percy has finished his heaped portion. He jumps onto Eric’s lap, turns around twice, and lies down. Eric strokes his back with one hand.
I choose a chocolate square and bite into it. The thin shell cracks, releasing soft salted caramel that melts across my tongue. The salt cuts through the sweetness perfectly.
“This is delicious,” I say before eating the other half.
We sit quietly for a few moments. Eric and I usually avoid talking about the vote, but it’s happening tomorrow. Tonight, ignoring it feels like a lie, especially when I know something he doesn’t.
I stop searching for the right way to ask.
