Page 63 of Not that Impressed
“I will.” I hang up and within a minute I have Caleb’s phone number from Will and he’s heading toward me while I call with the name. I trust Caleb to get us information far more than the women at the reception desk.
“1525,” Caleb cries triumphantly. “Grey and Lydia Fitzwilliam, here on their honeymoon, apparently.” His voice is dry.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say back. I hang up and look up to see Will jogging toward me. “1525,” I tell him as he comes close.
“That building.” He points to the one I was considering going into when Janelle called. He takes my hand and leads me toward it, walking fast enough it’s almost hard to keep up.
“How do you know?” It’s not that I distrust him, but I don’t want to waste time.
“While I was doing the lobby circuit, I stopped by the map and studied it for a while to give me a reason to look around the lobby for longer. I could tell you where anything is in this resort. Try me.” He looks down at me and gives me a half-smile.
“I guess you’re probably decent at studying and memorizing diagrams, huh?” I tease back.
“Meh. I’m okay.”
I don’t want to wait for the elevator, but it’s definitely faster than trying to climb fifteen stories. I’m in good shape, and adrenaline is flying through my veins, but I’d be dead by the time we got there.
The seconds tick by like they’re hours. Will runs circles withhis thumb along the top of my hand, but we’re both antsy, glancing around us constantly. I text Janelle the room number. Finally the elevator opens. A family gets out, and we slip inside. Will hits the button for the fifteenth floor and then we wait again: wait for the elevator to move, wait as it glides by each floor, wait for the door to open once we stop at fifteen.
A sign points us to the right, and we rush forward, with me counting off the numbers as we go by them.
1515, 1517, 1519, 1521, 1523.
I skid to a halt in front of 1525, Will behind me. I summon the best accent I’ve ever used and knock on the door. “¡Hola! Estamos aqui para limpiar.” There’s no answer right away. “¿Hola?” I knock again, trying to keep from knocking too hard. I share a worried look with Will. Did they actually slip by us? Could they know we’re here? Did Grayson see me on the beach or Will in the lobby and slip them both out of the hotel somehow?
“Come back later,” a voice calls. Grayson! “Can’t you read the do not disturb sign?”
“Pretend like you don’t understand?” Will suggests in a low voice.
“Lo siento,” I call back, knocking on the door and hoping Grayson gets annoyed enough to come shoo the housekeepers away in person. “No entiendo. Nececitamos limpiar, señor.” As far as I know, Grayson doesn’t understand my requests to come in and clean the room, but I’m banking on him coming out to talk to us.
“Go away!” he yells. He still doesn’t open the door, and a spike of fear shoots through me. What’s he afraid for the housekeepers to see?
I give up the pretense and pound on the door. “Libby! Libby, it’s Ellie. We’re so worried about you. Please answer the door.”
Grayson swears from inside the room. Will shifts me aside and gives three firm knocks. “Hollis. Open the door now.” The dangerous edge to Will’s voice sends a shiver down my spine.He’ll break down this door any second, and I’ll support him, but there might be an easier way without risking injury to Will. I pull out my phone, texting Caleb swiftly.
Ellie
He won’t answer the door. Anything you can do?
Caleb
And then, the door clicks. I look up at Will and back down at my phone.
Caleb
Will opens the door, holding me behind him with a hand as he steps inside the room.
Grayson stands by the sliding glass door next to the balcony, turning with his mouth open in shock when we walk in. “How did you?—”
“Shut up,” Will commands.
“Ellie?” a voice says, and I stride around Will to see Libby on the bed. I rush to her, throwing my arms around her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Are you okay? You stopped answering and we were all so terrified, Libs.”
Libby holds me so tightly it takes my breath away, and she shakes in my arms. “My phone died,” she whispers. She doesn’t give any more explanation, but the fear in those words tells me everything.
