Page 193 of The Fake Date Agreement

Christian takes the news well, probably because the news is bad but not terrible, promising to turn around and return to Lamont.

Reid is in the waiting room, a metal clipboard and pen beside him. “A nurse wants Caleb’s life story,” he says as I approach.

“I called Chris. He’s on his way back. He’s going to call their mom, so no need to do that.” I hand Reid his cell phone.

“And Tobie?” he asks, face blank.

“Three missed calls. I called her back, but…”

He checks his phone and hits dial. We watch and listen as his call goes straight to voicemail.

“It’s not good,” I add unnecessarily.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” he asks me, fingers tightening around his cell phone and making me think he’s imagining it’s Marc’s throat.

“Yeah.” I nod at the clipboard. “You get busy filling that out and keep trying Tobie. I’ll head to the hotel. Maybe she’s still there.” Unlikely. “Or maybe someone saw her and can tell us how she was.”

“Do you think we made her cry?” Reid does nothing to hide his devastation.

I squeeze his shoulder. “Marc is at fault here. Worrying about anything other than checking she’s okay can wait. I’ll call you later when I know more.”

We say our goodbyes, and I leave the hospital.

I head straight for the Carlton-Westlake.

There’s no sign of Tobie in the lobby. A small group of hotel guests stand near the check-in desk. Trying to get a straight answer out of half-drunk hockey players and their dates is a lesson in frustration.

“Tobie was here,” Hallie says, eyes glazed over. “She was waiting for you.” She blinks. “Wait. Did you just get here?”

“You can’t hold your alcohol for shit, Princess.” Theo ruffles her hair.

She elbows his side and yelps, face twisting in pain. “What the fuck are you made of?”

He smirks down at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I’m dancing,” she suddenly declares.

“He’s not going to say yes,” Theo says with a smirk. “You should give it up and stop embarrassing yourself.”

“Embarrassingmyself? Hold this.” She thrusts her glass of champagne at him and stalks toward the dance floor, weaving slightly.

So much for telling her how he feels about her.

I raise my eyebrow at Theo. “I’m going to assume you’re out of practice talking to a woman.”

“Yeah, I know.” He downs the champagne, passes the glass off to me, and follows her.

I shake my head and continue my search.

Tobie was here, waiting in the lobby for all of us, and none of us showed. One of the guys says he saw her talking with a guy in a tux, but didn’t recognize him.

She tried to call us all, more than once, and then what?

Did she go home?

I’m headed for the exit to try her dorm room when I stop.

There’s no one at the front desk now waiting to check in, and there are chairs right there. If Tobie were waiting for a while, she’d have sat down. Maybe someone remembers seeing her.

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