Page 75 of Hibiscus Heights

“Grant—”

“Let me say this first,” he said softly. “I never stopped loving you, Deb. I was just too young to fight for us. I let my disappointment cloud my judgment instead of fighting for what mattered most.”

She pulled back to meet his gaze, seeing the regret in his expression. “When I pieced together what happened, I confronted my brothers about their interference.”

“Please forgive them,” Grant said, touching her cheek. “They probably thought they were protecting you. Men don’t always get it right—myself included.”

She leaned into him, enjoying his warmth. “We were different people then. You had dreams that were larger than this island.”

“That wasn’t it. It was something else.” His expression immediately closed off.

Something in his voice set off an alarm in her mind. “Another secret?”

He shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

As his gaze shifted to one side, Deb felt as if she’d been shut out.

He didn’t speak again.

A chill coursed through her, and she realized not all was as it seemed. When the music ended, Deb dropped his hand. “I don’t like secrets.”

She left him on the dance floor without looking back. Because if she had, he would have seen tears welling in her eyes.

Years ago, Deb had promised herself she would never be hurt again. Even if others didn’t keep their promises to her, she did. And she was too old for this nonsense.

Deb picked up her purse at the table. Holding her head high, she hurried from the ballroom, heading toward the only place she knew she would be alone. She needed a few minutes by herself to collect her thoughts before returning.

When the elevator door opened, Deb rushed inside, blinking back her emotions.

“Well, if it isn’t Deb Whitaker,” an elderly man said.

He was dressed in a Majestic Hotel uniform and seated on a stool beside the elevator buttons. A hat covered most of his white hair, which looked trim and tidy.

“Hello, Stafford.” Deb was surprised to see the retired elevator operator in uniform. He looked spiffy with polished shoes and manicured nails. She dabbed her eyes surreptitiously. “Did Ryan put you back to work?”

“Only for the evening. My suggestion. I would have preferred the old elevator, but it’s no longer up to safety standards. I might dust it daily, but we’ve both aged out of work.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke. “Not out of fun, though. And tonight, I get to relive my glory days.”

“I’m glad,” she said, kissing his cheek. “It’s good to see you here.”

Ryan had given Stafford a room to live out his years, and the employees doted on him. The older man had worked at the hotel and run the elevator for decades; he was the hotel’s oldest living employee. Just last year, Ryan had thrown him a party for his centennial year. Even now, Stafford still turned on the lights every Christmas season and reported daily to his table at the cafe to greet returning guests and regale them with stories of yesteryear.

Deb adored him, and she’d known him since childhood. He was a calming presence, and she needed that right now.

Stafford welcomed more guests into the elevator. “What floors, please?”

Deb watched as he pressed the buttons they had requested.

“Two, three. And Miss Whitaker?”

Glancing up, Deb saw Kitty approach the elevator entrance. Usually, she would hold the elevator, but with her nerves raw, she only replied, “Fourth floor, please.”

The doors slid shut.

Deb let out a breath. The ascent was slow as the elevator stopped at every floor, and Stafford chatted pleasantly with each guest. After the third floor, they were alone.

“The fourth floor is next,” Stafford said. “Everything alright with you tonight?”

Deb sniffed. “Just a few allergies.”

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