“I’ve got calls to make and reports to fill out,” Emily said tersely when Hattie finally showed up. Instantly, she regretted her impatience. She shouldn’t have snapped at Hattie. She’d make it up to her, take her out to Amigo’s Mexican Restaurant where bottomless chips and salsa would solve all their problems. “Can you take care of anyone who comes through the door?” Emily waved toward the entrance, not wanting to notice Hattie’s red-ringed eyes. Hattie’s slow nod got Emily second-guessing the decision of having her be the face of Eureka Springs, but there was little choice.
Emily was elbow deep in fixing the Excel formulas Hattie had cut and pasted in the spreadsheet. It had messed up the past three months’ worth of numbers, and Emily had to know where they were at financially before her call with a potential headliner that afternoon.
The low grumble of an argument pulled her out of her work. She looked up to see a group of five or six rough-looking men crowding around Hattie’s desk.
“What do you mean, there aren’t any more booths available for the UFO festival? It’s still five days away.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Vendor slots sold out five months ago.”
“Don’t be smart with me, missy.” The speaker for the group wore fingerless leather gloves and ripped jeans with enough muscles for Emily to guess that he was there to sign up for the motorcycle weekend instead.
“Wh-what do you mean?” Hattie’s expression registered complete confusion as she turned her computer screen so the man could see all the booth slots on the map were X’ed out.
He probably thought Hattie was smarting off, using the same number with months instead of days, but he didn’t know her the way Emily did. She was telling the truth, not making a point.
He tugged on his beard, eyes squinty and beady against the backdrop of the bright green bandana on his head. “Are you really that dumb or—”
“Excuse me!” A man, a few inches shorter than the speaker and a good fifty pounds lighter, stepped between Hattie and the red-faced man in the middle of a pack of frenzied wolves. He looked a little familiar, but from this angle, Emily couldn’t clearly make out who was willing to risk his life over an argument.
Bandana man turned to Hattie’s savior and poked him hard in the chest. “What do you mean, excuse you?”
“You heard me.” Now that he’d spoken a few more words, Emily recognized Finn Weston. He spoke calmly, though the man shouting at him was anything but. “The lady kindly informed you that all the vendor areas are full for this event. I bet she has a signup list for next year, if you’d like to reserve your slot. I hear the UFO festival is worth planning ahead for.”
The man’s eyes bored into Finn’s, but neither man backed down even a fraction. “If the dumb—"
“I understand you are upset,” Finn interrupted, still as calm as a yoga teacher in a farmer’s market, “but there is no need for name-calling.”
Or intimidation, Emily might have added, had she been as brave as Finn.
After a couple seconds of silence, Finn stepped back. “Would you like Miss Smith to get you the paperwork for next year’s event?” he asked as if the men had just come in.
“No,” Red-face growled, but at half his previous viciousness. As a group, the pack of men turned and left.
A few hours later, Hattie and Emily were at Amigo’s, waiting on their enchiladas and kicking back with diet sodas, decompressing.
“That was one crazy day!” As soon as she said it, Emily wished she hadn’t. Even though there had been a difficult start with all the busyness of doing double duty, once Hattie came in, Emily had been able to make up for lost time. She’d checked off everything that she’d needed to do and then some, and she hadn’t been the one to have to deal with the alien wolf pack.
“You’re telling me.” Hattie snapped a chip in half and dipped a corner into the salsa, piling it high. When she went to take a bite, half of the salsa dumped down the front of her blouse. “You warned me the UFO guys get a little nuts.” She popped the chip into her mouth and dabbed at the salsa with a paper napkin.
“Well, not exactly.” The UFO festival was one of Emily’s top five favorite annual events. As one of the unique things that put Eureka Springs on the map, it was the best thing to happen to alien aficionados this side of Roswell, New Mexico. “What I said was that every event has some crazies. And it’s not usually the tourists, the ones excited about their hobbies. It’s those who are truly disappointed they didn’t get what they wanted—whether that’s a city permit and a spot for their vendor table or the trophy and bragging rights.”
Emily picked up a chip of her own but was careful not to end up wearing her appetizer. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. That guy was worse than most.”
“He was scary,” Hattie admitted. “I was so happy Finn stepped in, I could’ve kissed him.”
“He was pretty heroic.” Emily munched her chip. Finn was a great guy when it came down to it, but the interesting thing was that when he’d walked in, she hadn’t even recognized him, let alone felt flutters of attraction for the second time in a few days. She’d had fun with him at the ball, but she wouldn’t concede her no relationship status to someone who didn’t send pulses of excitement down to her toes.
He hadn’t seemed interested in seeing Emily, either. He hadn’t hesitated to step in and save Hattie, but when the altercation was over, he’d grabbed a map of town and waved goodbye to Emily without a word.
Her mind circled back to the conversation at hand. “You do know I wouldn’t have left you to get eaten by the wolves, don’t you?”
“I know that.” Hattie shifted in her seat. “But I’m so glad Finn was there so you didn’t have to.”
The waiter brought their enchiladas and refilled their chips and drinks.
Emily still hadn’t asked Hattie what had happened to keep her away from work that morning, though she had her guesses. “How are you doing?” Her tone would communicate her meaning without having to add “since Friday night when Elton Phillips snubbed you.”
Hattie made crosshatches on her refried beans with the tines of her fork. “I’m doing better.” She looked up, and Emily didn’t see a trace of sadness in her eyes or disappointment in the lines of her mouth. “I actually—” She stopped and set her fork on the side of her plate with a clatter. “I’m over them. Both of them.”
That was the most confident Emily had ever heard Hattie. Something had changed. Something big. “Both?” Emily’s mind flipped through memories of the Regency ball. “Elton—” Hattie winced only slightly when Emily said his name. “—and . . .”
“Martin.” Hattie folded her hands in her lap. “I realized you’re right. I can do better. You always said if I paid attention, I would see there were other men out there interested in me, and there is someone else. I mean, I never thought I could . . . He’s so . . .” She sighed, practically swooning, and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “I didn’t think I had a chance, but he’s led me to believe that maybe . . .” She picked up her fork and cut off the corner of the wrapped tortilla. “Do you think you could—”
“Wait.” Emily lifted her hand to stop her. “I have to tell you something.” She blew out a quick breath. “I learned something too. I decided it’s better if I don’t meddle in people’s relationships. No more matchmaking. If I’d stayed out of things, you wouldn’t have even met Elton.”
Stopping at not matchmaking wasn’t enough, though. Emily knew herself, and if she got too close to the situation, she’d be tempted to meddle again. “So this time, I can’t even know his name. That way, I won’t orchestrate anything to set you up. The two of you can have fun getting to know each other on your own, and your relationship will be better because of it.” The peace of her decision settled around her, comforting. “Okay, so knowing that, what did you want to say to me? And no names, remember.”
Hattie twirled her fork in melted cheese before starting again. “I’m . . . I’m worried you won’t approve my choice.”
/> “Nonsense. I know exactly who you mean—I saw how he defended you, and I wholeheartedly approve.”
Hattie’s smile broke out large and bold. “Are you sure?” She giggled, almost giddy.
“Yes, Hattie.” Emily reached across the table to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Let yourself be happy. If he’s interested in you and you’re interested in him, enjoy it and don’t worry what anyone else thinks.”
Hattie blinked back happy tears. “Thank you.”
Emily shook her head. She was the one who should be thanking Hattie. In having this conversation, Emily finally felt forgiven for the mistake with Elton. Now if she could only forgive herself.
16
Grant checked one last time to make sure everything was in place. All of the clues were positioned and the locks set. After Emily’s comment at Thorncrown the previous week, he’d been excited to invite a group over to try out Dawnwell’s escape rooms. He’d walked through the current setup himself, of course, but this would be the first time running his latest challenge with a group before finalizing it for the London escape mansion.
Confident that everything was in order, he stepped into the hallway and closed the door just in time. Approaching from the grand staircase and elevator from the first floor, Annalise led his guests with Miss Bates pushing Mrs. Bates’s wheelchair in the front.
“Are you going to do the puzzle room with us?” Miss Bates blinked up at Annalise with nothing short of awe on her face. “I bet you’re good at this. I don’t think I’ll be much help, but Mr. Grant insisted he wanted me and Mother there—” She shook her head. “Here, I mean. He said it just wouldn’t be the same without us. He’s always so kind. But I think it is my niece, Jaden Fairbanks, he really wanted to see—”
He sneaked a look to gauge Jaden’s reaction. She twittered something to Finn at her side. Yeah, she’d heard the comment and didn’t agree. Emily, who’d appeared interested in everything around her a moment before, stiffened up, stony-faced and a million miles away. Hattie, as usual, concentrated on the ground as if she would trip if she wasn’t looking. Mr. Wood, hands in his pockets, stepped to look at every picture on the wall and glance around every nook and seating area. He’d be good in the escape room.
“I think he has a crush on her,” Miss Bates continued, obviously still opining on Grant’s motivations for the party and his designs to make a move on Jaden. “That’s why he’s always coming to Highbury. It’s not to play dominoes with a bunch of old fuddy-duddies. No, it’s so he can talk to my Jaden. She’ll be good at this puzzle-solving; she is so smart. They gave her a scholarship at the university, you know.”
Miss Bates was still deep into her monologue when the group reached him at the escape room door. They stopped, silent with anticipation, and after a moment, Miss Bates followed her compatriots’ examples and fell speechless, waiting for instructions.
“Thanks for coming,” Grant said. “Creating escape rooms is kind of a hobby of mine.” That earned him a few indulgent chuckles. The hobby paid rather well. “It’s like writing a 3D novel—with a lot fewer words and less outlining.” Made so much easier this time around with access to these interconnecting rooms on-site. Being able to be in the space—to see it spatially and manipulate it with his own two hands—had helped in ways that virtual reality programs had failed previously. “I have a little something new I wanted to try out, so thank you for helping me.”
These people, friends both his own age and ones he spent time with up at Highbury, would be a good test group. They had the right cross section of age and experience, those who’d read his books and those who hadn’t, and would be a good a snapshot of how regular customers might participate.
“Starting now, you are a US operative sent to do a mission—to protect the Saudi Arabian prince—but everything has gone sideways. Your only contact to headquarters—your handler—has been murdered, and you are stuck on foreign soil with no idea who to trust. You must find the clues that will lead you through the correct series of doors. If you choose wisely and gather the right information, you will protect the prince and arrive safety in your homeland. If you misinterpret the clues, mission failure, kidnapping, torture, or even death may result.”
Miss Bates’s eyes went wide, and she leaned over her mother’s shoulder. “I don’t know if we should do this, Mother. Would you rather go sit by the fire upstairs? I’m sure this nice lady could take us.”
He hadn’t expected her to take him literally. “Don’t worry, Miss Bates. I have confidence in your ability to figure out the clues. If you get stuck, I’ll be there to provide a hint or two.” He lowered his volume, taking her into his confidence. “I’m kidding about death. There’s no actual pain associated with ‘losing’ the game. It’s just more fun when the stakes are high.”
He stood up straight again and spoke to the entire group. “One difference from other escape rooms to keep in mind: You may solve an immediate puzzle, but you need to decide if the information you glean is something you actually should pursue. It is an evaluation game as much as it is a solving one.”
He swung the door open to a swanky living room. Off to one side, a set of glass-paneled French doors separated them from a library with a heavy office desk. Swinging three-quarter doors led to a mock kitchen, with two plain, solid wooden doors as other options. All four exits were locked. “Everything you need is here in this room somewhere. Anything you know about Cruise Donnelly may help as well, though you don’t have to have seen the movies or read the books to solve the puzzle. You have forty-five minutes in each room. A clock is counting down. Work together, and have fun!”
He stepped back and let the group of seven pass into the room, and then dismissed Annalise with a nod. Mr. Wood walked in last, his look of delight so intent, he forgot to use his cane.
“This will probably be too easy for you,” Grant whispered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll hang back and observe. If they need help, maybe I can give the first hints?”
Grant nodded. “Of course.” He ushered him to a leather chair with a great view of the room.
Miss Bates followed, placing her mother’s wheelchair next to Mr. Wood and then claiming the matching chair. An ornate chess table sat between them, the game set up already in progress, the pieces in strategic positions.
“I don’t know that we’ll be much help here, will we, Mother?” Miss Bates snugged a shawl around the older woman’s shoulders.
“You’ll be surprised,” Grant said. “It takes everyone to put it together.”
He looked over the other four participants, who’d scattered around the room, taking in everything from a map of Yorkshire to a framed print of a strawberry patch. Emily moved a flower arrangement to pick up a book that had been between it and the top of a piano. She fluttered the pages and found a scrap of old paper. That didn’t take long.
“I wouldn’t suggest making any moves in the chess game,” Grant warned, “but you might find other interesting things to observe about the table.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets and strolled about the room, listening as Hattie, Jaden, Finn, and Emily excitedly explained the clues they’d found. On a side table, they started a collection of keys and various loose tools. So far, they’d collected a pen, a flashlight, and slips of paper.
“Jaden, dear,” Miss Bates called from across the room. “Do you think these are important? I’ve been trying to put them together, but I can’t make heads or tails of them.” She waved a wooden Scrabble rack in the air.
“Coming, Aunt.” Jaden’s tone was an audible eye roll. Looking back and forth, she seemed reluctant to leave Finn’s side.
When he didn’t take the hint that she wanted him to come with her, she touched his hand—a caress, almost—but then quickly pulled away, looking about the room to see if anyone had noticed. Seeing Grant, her face reddened, and she walked to the chess table where Miss Bates had laid all the tiles out in alphabetical order. Interesting.
The Scrabble tiles were ac
tually two colors—some of them were the natural wood color, but others had been dipped in a blue-gray stain. Grant had assumed players would separate the two into colors and try to create words from each group. Miss Bates was actually on the right track.
“How many racks are there?” Jaden touched the tiles lightly, but didn’t rearrange anything.
“Two.” Miss Bates pulled the second from the table drawer where the tiles had been hidden and placed it next to the first.
“Two words, then.” Jaden’s eyes flew from letter to letter.
“Would you like some help?” Finn joined, standing a little closer than necessary.
When he touched her back, Jaden took a half step away. “Please.” Was that a please help with the puzzle, or a please don’t touch me?
On the other side of the room, Emily must have noticed a few of the piano keys had numbers on them—two sets of four numbers. Grant stepped close enough to see she wrote each number with the corresponding musical letter names. She took the information and went to the various combination locks around the room to try them out. None of the letter-number combinations unlocked anything, but it was a good try. Going back to the piano, she rubbed her chin, staring at the keyboard. Finally, she plunked them out in numerical order.
“What was that?” Finn’s head shot up. “Play it again.”
Emily did as instructed, and this time everyone paid attention.
“That does sound familiar!” Hattie practically jumped up and down. “Are you playing the sheet music?”
Emily shook her head and closed her eyes, playing again from memory. The answer had to be right there for her. Anyone with a doorbell or clock should recognize it, and with Big Ben in London, it was probably too easy for the first escape mansion. What he liked about it was what Emily had demonstrated—with the short letter and number combinations, participants would assume they were codes.
“How about this one?” Finn turned a word toward Jaden, who giggled.
“If that’s right, then to use the rest of the tiles—” She moved them around, and after a few false starts, she turned her rack to him in triumph.
The Matchmaker's Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 2) Page 14
