Page 24 of The Maine Event

I force a smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “That’s great news, Zoe. Congrats.”

She preens under the praise, her eyes darting to mine. “Thanks, Rach. Couldn’t have done it without your groundwork.”

I nod, feeling the jealousy welling up. It should’ve been my win, my moment to shine. But here I am, stuck in Maine, while Zoe basks in the glory.

Helen’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Excellent work, everyone. But let’s not rest on our laurels. Rachel, we’re looking forward to having you back in a few weeks. There are a lot more clients out there who need Channing Gabriel… They just don’t know it yet.”

All eyes turn to me, and I sit up straighter, smoothing my hair. “Absolutely. Looking forward to being back.”

Helen nods, her expression unreadable. “Good. That’s all, team. Recharge and regroup, we go again tomorrow.”

No pressure, then. I push aside thoughts of Dan and his guilt. I can’t afford any distractions, not when my career is on the line.

As the call wraps up, I take one of the complimentary bottles of water from the nightstand. I need a break—and ice. If I’mgoing to stay up much longer, I’m going to need something cold to keep me from nodding off.

I grab the empty ice bucket and step out into the night air, the hallway dim and silent. The machine is just around the corner, humming like it’s working far too hard for its age. I fill the bucket halfway, already craving the clink of cubes in my next drink.

But when I get back to my door and reach into my pocket, my hand hits nothing.

I freeze.

No key.

No. No, no, no. I check again—every pocket, twice, even under the bucket, as if I might’ve stashed it there.

I sigh, long and loud.

Because of course this would happen. On this day. After that call.

I set the bucket down and make the walk of shame back to the front desk.

To my surprise, it’s not the young receptionist on duty—it’s Richard, Dan’s brother, and the man who checked me in when I first arrived. He looks up from his computer screen and offers a warm but tired smile.

“Lock yourself out?”

I nod, holding up the empty hand that should be holding my key card. “Classic rookie move. I guess my day wasn’t quite finished messing with me.”

He chuckles and pushes back from the desk, already reaching for the spare keys. “Happens more than you’d think. Coffee in one hand, phone in the other, and the door clicks shut. You’d be amazed how many people leave barefoot.”

He hands me a fresh key card.

“Thanks,” I say, sliding it into my pocket.

“You holding up okay?” he asks, his tone shifting ever so slightly—just enough to suggest he means more than the key situation. “Must be strange being stuck out here with all the flight chaos. That volcano’s throwing a bigger tantrum than they expected.”

I smile faintly. “Yeah, I saw the news earlier. I was hoping it would have cleared up by now, but sounds like I’m here for a while longer.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “you could do worse than Biddeford.”

“That’s what Dan keeps telling me.”

Richard’s eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn’t comment.

I clear my throat, keeping my tone as casual as I can. “Speaking of… how is he? Dan, I mean.”

Richard gives a little noncommittal shrug, eyes thoughtful. “He’s doing alright. Been through a lot, but… he keeps going. He’s that kind of guy.”

It’s not much, but I don’t expect more. Still, the way he says it lingers in the air like something unsaid. I nod, letting the silence speak for both of us.

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