Page 73 of Sapphire Sunset

At some point, his mother showed up with his suitcase.Apparently, Logan had already taken the penthouse suite out of the registrationqueue so Connor could stay there. A little presumptuous, maybe, but alsoincredibly convenient and logical given Connor didn’t plan to leave the hotelanytime soon, and he’d already started worrying about when he’d get his nextshower.

In a way,it’s kind of like he read my mind.

Logan appeared next to him suddenly.

“Did you get all the cameras down?” Connor asked.

“Every last one.”

“All right, riddle me this,” Connor said. “How are we goingto get all these people to eat? We told them dinner’s at eight when they checkedin, but most of them are so dazed I doubt they’ll remember.”

“We can knock on their doors,” Logan suggested.

“That’s a lot of doors. Do we have the staff for that?”

“I’ll tell you this. First thing they’re doing when they getto their rooms is turning on the TV so they can see if their house burned down.If there’s not a TV within sight, we’re not getting them to go anywhere,including a nice buffet.”

“Can we get the food to their rooms?” Connor asked.

“All at once, it’ll take forever. They’ll be starving.”

“I’m thinking we should get some TVs to the DolphinBallroom, otherwise these people will never get any food down. Can we do that?”

“On it,” Logan answered, then, when he was a few steps away,he turned and winked at Connor in a way that made Connor’s breath catch alittle.

When Connor and Naser made it to the ballroom after thesecond wave of folks were checked in, there were flat screen televisionsstudded throughout the tables, all tuned to wildfire coverage. The food hadn’tbeen laid out yet, but some of the evacuees were gathering so they didn’t haveto watch in suspense alone.

Logan was correct. Right now, nothing was more important tothese folks than TV access. When Connor caught his eye from across the room, Logangave him a thumbs-up and a smile.

With so many guests gathering in the ballroom before thefood was served, they had more than enough staff to remind the latecomers. Bythe time the buffet was out of food, not a single person had complained aboutmissing a promised meal. Still, Connor ensured there’d be kitchen staff on handlate into the night to prepare a sandwich or a salad for anyone they might havemissed.

Goddamn, we did it,he thought as he flounced downonto the love seat in the penthouse suite, his new apartment. The truth was they’ddone something, something good. Whether or not it could be classified asit,however, remained to be seen.

The minute the crowd started filtering back to their rooms,Logan took Connor gently by the arm as Naser walked next to them, scrollingthrough his phone for the latest press conference coverage. Now the three ofthem were alone, and it was time to hear the results. Connor was exhausted, butnot so tired he couldn’t get anxious all over again.

As if he thought they all might need some air, Logan openedthe doors to the suite’s terrace, filling the room with a warm ocean breezethat rustled the sheer drapes and the matching orchids on the love seat’s sidetables.

“All right, let’s hear it,” he said.

Naser plopped down into a chair at the black lacquer diningtable. “Okay. For the most part, great. I mean, you’ve got a few peopleaccusing the hotel of exploiting the tragedy, but they can’t get very far withit since the hotel’s not charging anybody.”

“Are we going off Twitter right now or the news?” Connorasked.

“The news. Even the cable news stations covered it. If youwere looking to shut the whole story down, then linking the hotel to thewildfire probably wasn’t the best way because the Palm Fire’s also nationalnews. But you weren’t looking to kill the story, you were looking tochangethe story, and you’ve done that in spades.”

“Because of the wildfire?” Connor asked.

“And because of what you said about Rodney at the end,” Naseradded. “That’s definitely given a new element to it.”

“What kind of element?” Connor asked.

“The soap opera kind. CNN’s already got two hot take op edsabout it. One accuses you of playing the victim card and using identitypolitics to distract from your uncle’s crimes. The other holds you up as anexample of how marginalized people always bear the brunt of the horriblemistakes of straight white men. The fact is, it’s put you and Rodney onopposite sides of the story, and that’s made for a conflict they’re sinkingtheir teeth into.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” Logan asked, but he was lookingwarily at Naser, as if he thought Connor’s best friend might take his arm offfor speaking out of turn. “If you’re on the opposite side from Rodney and yourun the hotel now, that means it’s a new day at Sapphire Cove.”

“Any word from our friend Sylvia Milton?” Connor asked.

“Nothing official,” Naser said, “and the Stop Sapphire CoveTwitter account looks quiet for now.”

---