Page 35 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

Farther down the hallway, I discovered a large wine cellar with a collection of wine that was probably worth more money than I’d earn in a lifetime. There was a beautiful Swedish sauna behind the next door. I turned around and saw another hallway. I was completely lost. The ding of the elevator gave me a starting point. I headed toward the sound. I could start there and go back to Luke’s original directions.

The doors slid open as I reached the elevator. Alexandria stepped out. She’d changed yet again. This time she was wearing white shorts and an olive-green tank top. Her tanned shoulders were shiny and smooth. “Just coming to pick my song and then we’re off to hit a few balls at the putting green. Do you golf?” she asked.

I smiled. “About as well as I ride horses.” I was getting better at this cryptic, meaningless answer thing.

“Oh, but I didn’t see you on the ride.”

“Nope,” I replied. “Now, according to Luke’s directions, we go right and then take the second left.” I wasn’t thrilled to have picked up a companion on my adventure, but it served me right for taking a long detour.

“Ugh, this ground floor is like the catacombs in Rome. Have you been?”

“Not recently.”

“They should add some more light down here with subterranean windows,” she added.

I stopped and looked at her. “How does that work? Subterranean windows?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I probably won’t need that knowledge at any time in my life.”

“So, you two are really cozy, I guess,” she said.

“Cozy? That’s a quaint way to put it.” I decided to leave it at that. Luke was talking a good game, but I’d seen the way he looked at Alex. There was a spark or, at the very least, a measurable amount of attraction between the pair. I didn’t want to get in the way if they were destined to become a couple. And what a spectacular couple they’d be.

Following Luke’s directions brought us to a vast room with a bar on one side and a dance floor and stage on the other. A crew was setting up a sound system fit for a rock concert. A woman stood behind the bar counter. “Taking song orders,” she quipped.

Alex waved her hand with a flourish. “You were technically here first.”

I headed across to the bar counter. It was fully stocked with every kind of liquor imaginable and a tap for beer. The woman slid a laminated list of song choices across to me. It didn’t take me long to pick a song. “Number 59,” I told the woman. “The name is Isla.”

She wrote down my name and my choice. Alex stepped up to the bar, peered down at the list and nodded. “The Chicks, ‘Cowboy Take Me Away.’ Great pick.” She sighed. “So many good ones to choose from.”

The sound system came on with a record-scratching screech. The woman behind the bar sighed. She handed over the clipboard. “Just write your name and song number on the next line. I’ve got to go help them before they wreck the whole system.”

“Well, I think I’ll head upstairs. I guess we’ll see you later. I can’t wait to hear you sing,” I said.

“Yes, same here, Isla. See you later.”

I reached the elevator at the same time as one of the staff members. Interestingly enough, it was the same young woman I nearly ran into on the path to the maze. She looked less harried this time, but she quickly smoothed her hair when she saw me.

“Hello again,” I said.

She smiled and we stepped into the elevator together. An awkward silence followed, then she all but flew out of the elevator when we reached the first floor.

Two long hallways and one steep set of stairs later, I was in my room. It had been cleaned, and the whole room smelled just a little too much like cleaning solution. Maybe Margaret had left orders to give my room a thorough cleaning, worried that I’d brought along some of those dreaded bedbugs.

I turned on the bath. I was going to take full advantage of the amenities at this five-star resort, a resort that would be wonderful if not for the few Steven King characters roaming the halls.

Fragrant, iridescent bubbles floated around the giant bathroom like rainbow-colored snowflakes in a flurry. My phone rang just as I lifted a foot to settle into the tub. It was Ella.

“Hey, El, everything all right?”

“I hate to bother you?—”

“You want to know what’s happening at the manor house.”

“Well, that and Layla wanted to bake some banana muffins, only we couldn’t find the vanilla.”

I settled into my bubbly quilt and rested back with a sigh.

“Well, you don’t have to be condescending about it. We don’t use the vanilla that often,” Ella said sharply.

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