Until Dawn

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  More than hour, I thought.

  I turned to make a comment about it to Mia, but she no longer stood beside me. My heart dropped. I craned my neck and searched through the crowd. A flicker of red drew my attention.

  There.

  She was inside already, moving through the lobby toward the elevators with the little blonde who’d mistaken me for a stripper.

  Liv, I remembered. The darer.

  I stepped forward, intent on catching up with the two of them. I only made it a few feet into the hotel before being stopped by a harried employee.

  “Sir,” she said as she blocked my way. “Are you checked in? Do you have a key card?”

  “Not yet,” I replied, trying to see around her.

  “I’m sorry. But the management has asked that only registered guests go past this area.”

  “I’ve got a reservation.”

  “Have you checked in, sir?” she asked.

  Shit. I’d lost sight of Mia.

  Gritting my teeth, I dropped my gaze to the woman in front of me. “No, I haven’t. Look. Could you make an exception?”

  She pointed to the enormous line and shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’d like to make an exception for pretty much everyone, but it’s just not worth losing my job.”

  “Right.”

  “Sorry,” she said again.

  “Not a problem,” I lied.

  I eyed the elevators once more, yanked my bag toward the front desk, and told myself that at least the amount of time I’d be stuck standing there would be long enough to come up with a plan.

  * * * *

  Mia

  I breathed out, gave my appearance a final check in the mirror, and told myself I was fine. That being stuck in a car with Ethan for a few minutes changed nothing. Accepting his suggestion for getting past the tree and the blockade was just convenience. Hearing him label his purchase of my store as a mistake wasn’t an apology I had to accept.

  And leaving him in the crowd does not make your heart hurt a little, right?

  “Right,” I said to my reflection. “His own fault for being a jerky, stalking maniac who didn’t have the foresight to check in ahead of time.”

  I wrinkled my nose and sighed. I knew perfectly well that he couldn’t have predicted the disastrous weather and ensuing disorder. But I also knew perfectly well that I shouldn’t feel bad for him being stuck down in the crowd, and I couldn’t seem to cast off the feeling.

  At least I no longer looked—as Liv had put it—like I’d just had sex in a mud puddle. The black satin dress was probably a little over the top for the impending rehearsal and dinner. I’d actually only thrown it into my bag at the very last second because of a panicked moment where I thought the floral wraparound I’d picked might be a little under the top. If that was a thing. But I was glad to at least have the option to put on something else.

  My hair was still damp, and the rain had washed away most of my makeup. I couldn’t muster up the energy to do a complete reapplication, so I’d settled for a quick swipe of eyeliner and a light coat of lip gloss. Not glamorous. But serviceable.

  I picked up my phone and glanced at the time. The power outage had caused a bit of a delay, so I still had almost thirty minutes until the start of the rehearsal.

  And a good opportunity to be early, I told myself.

  I dropped the phone into my clutch, then snapped the clasp shut.

  I certainly didn’t want to spend the next half hour alone in my room musing over Ethan. Wondering why he didn’t flat out deny his deception. Or make more excuses.

  It doesn’t matter what his reasons are, I thought firmly. They won’t change a thing.

  But as much as I tried to fight the niggling doubt, it wormed its way back in as I stepped into the hall. It built up even more as I got into the elevator, and it had me sucking in my lower lip nervously as I got out.

  I wasn’t naïve enough to think it was all some big misunderstanding.

  Because you were fooled. And you enjoyed being fooled, so you want to find some excuse…some reason to go back.

  “And he’s not worth it,” I muttered.

  I paused in the crazy busy lobby to check the sign that listed all the special events happening in the hotel, just in case the chaos had caused a change. But as I confirmed that we were still in Ballroom One for the rehearsal and the Regent Lounge for dinner, Ethan’s familiar voice carried to me and stopped me from going any farther.

  “Unless there’s another Regent Inn in Vancouver that caters to Hotel Platinum members,” he was saying, “then I must be booked in here. Top floor, turndown service, executive brunch tomorrow, all confirmed by email this morning.”

  A woman answered, “Can I be honest with you, sir?”

  “I’d prefer it, actually,” he said.

  “Every one of our rooms is booked,” replied the woman. “Every cot is in use. We’ve shuffled around as much as we could, and even the rooms we hold for our overnight staff have been reallocated to hold guests instead. Anyone who isn’t already checked in…won’t be. It’s the worst possible time for a reservation to be lost. We’re calling around, trying to find alternatives, but the last customer had to take a room in Coquitlam.”

  “Coquitlam?”

  “It’s a neighboring city. A good forty minutes away.”

  “Christ.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  I closed my eyes and willed myself not to look. Not to give in to the need to see his face. But I couldn’t seem to walk away, either. Unconsciously, I took a step closer. Then another.

  Ethan sighed, sounding frustrated and apologetic at the same time. “I’m sorry for the language.”

  “It’s not the worst thing that’s been said to me all night, trust me,” said the woman.

  “Not surprising under the circumstances, but I know it’s not your fault. Just give me the best-case scenario.”

  “Being honest again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The guys from hydro are due here to assess the downed tree sometime in the next hour. The hotel is lucky enough to own two shuttle buses, which are ready to go the second that tree is out of the way. We’re prioritizing the higher-need guests first. Families with young kids and the elderly.”

  “So I’ll be at the bottom of the list.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, sir.”

  I turned in slow motion, but the words that slipped out of my mouth came out in a rush. “You can use my room. I’ve got a dinner, and I’ll probably be out late anyway. So if you want to shower or lie down…”

  His dark eyes traveled the length of my body, then settled on my face. “Is that a serious offer?”

  No! screamed a voice in my head. Don’t do it. This is a bad idea. Very bad. Rescind it while you still can.

  But I nodded. “Yes. Like I said, I won’t be there.”

  “Trust me. The thought of being in an actual room has a hell of lot more appeal than being stuck in this glorified sardine tin with fifty strangers,” he said with a wry smile. “But if you’re going to change your mind…”

  “I won’t. Unless you don’t want to use it.”

  “I could stand to get a little dryer and a little cleaner.”

  “There’s a minibar,” I told him.

  “Also not unappealing,” he stated. “Unless you’re planning on using those tiny bottles to poison me.”

  I fought—really fought—a smile. “If only my planning were that good.”

  The concierge cut in. “Sir?”

  She had a pen poised over a pad of paper, and her eyes darted from me and Ethan to the line of people who were still waiting their turn for bad news.

  “Really,” I said. “It’s just a room.”

  He shrugged and stepped out of the line. “Okay, then. I’ll accept.”

 
I was as relieved as I was anxious.

  Stop it, I ordered silently. You’re just being the bigger person.

  Which was all well and good until I remembered a small, annoying fact.

  “The key card,” I said with a groan.

  Ethan frowned. “What about it?”

  “They were having a problem with them earlier, and it was just me checking in, so I only got one.”

  “So we’ll go back and get another.”

  I pointed to the surge of people around the desk. The concierge was already invisible again.

  “You want to stand in line again?” I asked. “Or take a chance that the guy who looks like a pro boxer won’t kick your ass for cutting in?

  He followed the direction of my finger. “Is there an option ‘C’?”

  “I’ll have to take you up to let you in.” Another bad idea. “I’ve only got about five minutes to spare, but if you want to go out later or whatever, you can swing by the Regent Lounge to grab me again.” An even worse idea.

  But Ethan was nodding. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Okay.”

  I took a breath and led him through the lobby to the elevators, not speaking until we’d actually stepped through the sliding doors. And what I did say came out sounding weak, even to my own ears.

  “It’s just a room,” I blurted.

  “Yeah, you mentioned that,” he replied.

  “Oh. Well. I just want to be clear.”

  “You know I’d never take anything from you without your permission, Lu,” he said.

  I started to point out that was exactly what he’d done, but the elevator doors slid open, and a wizened, hand-holding couple stepped in, interrupting me.

  “Evening,” greeted the older man.

  “Evening,” Ethan replied easily. “Going up?”

  “Floor eight,” the older woman confirmed.

  Ethan pressed the button, then leaned back against the car. A weighted silence hung in the air, and strangely, the older woman broke it.

  “You two have a fight?” she asked.

  “You know that’s none of your business, Darla,” scolded her partner.

  “Oh, please, Chuck,” said the woman. “She’s clearly upset with him, and the sexual tension in here is thicker than it was at Woodstock.”

  The man chuckled. “You weren’t at Woodstock and you know it.”

  “Not that you know of,” Darla teased, then fixed me with a stereotypical finger waggle. “Mark my words. You don’t want to waste a precious moment being mad at the man who loves you just because he did a stupid thing.”

  “Men do a lot of stupid things,” her companion agreed. “Takes us a while to get there. Nearly sixty years ago I let this one slip away, and it took me all this time to talk her into taking me back.”

  The elevator dinged again, and Chuck gave Darla a playful swat on the rear end before following her out. The second the doors slid shut, I turned to Ethan.

  “Don’t even bother,” I said.

  “With what?” he replied innocently.

  “That couple. They weren’t some sign from above.”

  “Well…” he started.

  “Well, what?”

  “Technically, they did get on above us.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. And they got off below us. So there.”

  He inched closer. “Give me a chance, Lu.”

  The plea in his voice was as obvious as the desire in his voice. And I wanted to give in so desperately that it hurt. But I’d given him a chance. More than once, it felt like. And each time, I got closer to falling. Closer to letting myself believe that after only two weeks, I’d found the man I was meant to be with. But that also meant I was that much more at risk for heartbreak.

  “Lu?” Even the way he said my name made me want to throw myself into his arms and sob.

  I stiffened my resolve. “It doesn’t matter, Ethan. Whatever your reason was for buying the building, and whatever you think we need to talk about. it’s not enough.”

  The air around me was suddenly stifling, and as the elevator finally reached our floor—not our floor, I corrected silently, my floor, the twelfth floor, anything but our floor—I couldn’t get out fast enough.

  Chapter 20

  Ethan

  For the first time, it occurred to me that I really might not be able to win her over. And it just about broke my fucking heart.

  I breathed out, and I thought my rib cage might crack as I watched Mia stumble in a seemingly blind way up the hall. I followed behind, feeling a little blind myself. I was almost surprised when she reached into her tiny bag and managed to let herself into the room without any trouble.

  “This is it,” she said over her shoulder, but she didn’t look at me.

  Crack, crack, went my ribs.

  I hurried forward, barely making it to the room before the door closed all the way. And I no sooner got inside that Mia turned to leave.

  “So this is it,” she said, stepping wide around me. “The rehearsal is in Ballroom One downstairs, and the dinner’s being catered in the private section of the Regent Lounge. Like I said before, feel free to use the shower or crack open the minibar. Go ahead on order something from room service if you’re hungry.”

  Crack.

  “Lu.”

  “Don’t.”

  Cr-r-raaaack.

  “Don’t what?” I sounded like a man on the edge.

  Her throat moved up and down. “Look. Just…everything’s on me.”

  “On you?”

  “It’s my room and you’re my guest, so…”

  My jaw clenched painfully. “All right. Have a good time.”

  Pretending I was burning from the inside out, I flopped backward on the bed and stared up at the ceiling as I listened to her open the door. Listened to her open it and exhale a soft, nearly inaudible sigh.

  But in the end, I couldn’t let her go quite so easily. I slid my legs over the edge of the bed, strode across the room, and closed my hand on her shoulder.

  She gasped and spun. “Ethan!”

  Maybe it was her surprise that made her drop her guard. Or maybe it was the sudden, palpable current that ran from my fingers into her bare skin. Either way, when she looked up at me, I knew that whatever she said, there was a part of her that wanted me. Maybe just physically, but it was something. It was how things started, which made me think that maybe I could get them started again.

  The pain my chest eased a little, and as I stared down into her eyes, I forgot what I was going to say. If I ever knew.

  I wanted her too. I ached to take her. To kiss her. To hold her for an eternity.

  The one.

  She exhaled a warm, sweet breath that whispered across my lips as she said my name, this time softly. “Ethan.”

  “Do something for me, Lu,” I replied.

  “I can’t—”

  “Just a small thing.”

  “Which would be?”

  I had to beat back the hope in my heart so I could speak normally. “Don’t decide yet.”

  Her perfect, tempting mouth worked a second before she shook her head. “I have to go, Ethan.”

  “I know. I’ll wait.”

  “I might be late.”

  “I’ll still wait.”

  “And I’m tied up with the wedding all day tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  She opened her mouth again, then closed it, then opened it once more. “So. I’m really going to leave now.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “And you aren’t going to try to stop me this time.”

  “No.”

  “Well. Good.”

  And this time, I did let her go.

  Not because I wanted to. Just the opposite, in fact
. As the lock clicked shut, I wanted to throw it open again. I wanted to drag her back—caveman style, if necessary—then toss her onto the bed and make her forget the wedding rehearsal altogether.

  I pushed to my feet and stared at the blank wood panel. As much as I was sure of my heart, and as much I thought she was just protecting hers, none of it mattered if she wouldn’t let me past her wall.

  You need an in.

  I ran a frustrated hand through my hair, then paused as my reflection caught my eye. I looked like hell. Crooked tie. Dirty suit and soaked shirt. Even my hair had flecks of mud caked in it.

  “What you need is a cold fucking shower, Ethan,” I said to my ragged self. “For more reasons than one.”

  With a resigned sigh, I bit back my need to do otherwise and set myself up to get clean and clear my head. I undressed, wrapped myself in a towel, cranked the shower—deciding on scorching hot rather than cold—and let my mind work for a solution.

  I didn’t want to approach her friend Liv. Even though I had her to thank for Mia in the first place, I got the feeling it would just create more of a problem.

  I lathered my hair with the hotel-issue shampoo, then stuck my head under the tap for a thorough rinse.

  Who else could I ask for help? Even though she spent most of her time and energy at work, she didn’t talk about her employees like they were friends.

  But she’s close to her family.

  And they were all in the hotel.

  I paused in my washing to cast a look toward the bedroom. There was a phone on the nightstand. A hotel operator at the ready.

  I couldn’t. Could I?

  I twisted the tap into the off position, then grabbed a towel from the rack and stepped out into the bathroom. My gaze flicked to the bedroom again, and before I could get into a more in-depth argument with myself about it, I strode to the phone and grabbed the handset. I dialed zero, then greeted the operator cheerily.

  “Who am I speaking with?” I asked.

  “This is Lise. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, Lise. This is Ethan. I think your name’s a little prettier than mine.”

  She let out a laugh. “Charm will get you everywhere, Ethan.”

  “I know you’re completely swamped down there, so I won’t bug you too much. I’m with the wedding party that’s here this weekend, and I’ve got a small problem that I’m really hoping you can help me with? Please?”