Page 8 of Peasants and Kings
I saluted her and grabbed my suitcase to wheel it into the bedroom. Once I closed the door, I settled the suitcase in the corner and unzipped it. I pulled out an old pair of faded jeans, clean undergarments, and a gray threadbare T-shirt. With my toiletry bag in hand, I headed into Tiffany’s guest bathroom.
The water was hot, and the pressure was perfect; the lavender body scrub soothed my senses. I hid for as long as I could, blocking out my hopeless reality.
But I knew I couldn’t hide in Tiffany’s shower, no matter how nice it was, and so I finally climbed out and towel dried my hair.
I got dressed and then went to the kitchen, lured by the aroma of eggs. My hunger kicked into high gear.
“You made this?” I asked in surprise when Tiffany slid a plate across the counter. I hopped up on a bar stool and reached for my fork.
“You think I made eggs Benedict?” She laughed. “You’re cute. I called out for it. There’s a café around the corner, and I tip well so they’re fast.”
“Well, thanks,” I said in amusement. “It smells great.”
“Eat.”
“You didn’t get anything for yourself?”
“I’ll have a smoothie in a bit.”
While I devoured the eggs, Tiffany stared at me pensively over her cup of coffee. “I’ve been thinking about your situation, and I think I have a solution.”
“I’m all ears,” I said.
“I know someone who can get you a new identity…a real one.” Tiffany paused for a moment and then said softly, “You need to talk to Genevieve.”
“Who’s Genevieve?”
“My boss. She can get you a job at The Rex and a new identity.”
“You work the Concierge desk, Tiff. How in the world can your boss get me a new identity?”
“I need you to trust me, Sterling.” Her eyes glowed like flames.
“Of course, I trust you,” I said automatically. “I came here, didn’t I? I told you everything.”
She smiled slightly. “You wouldn’t have told me anything if you didn’t need my help.”
“Probably not,” I admitted. “I wish I didn’t have to come to you. I wish I could have left you out of it and protected you. I don’t want you to run into any trouble because of my—”
“Hey, take a breath,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with this alone, Sterling. I’m happy you came to me.”
“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me.”
She came around the corner of the counter to embrace me, and for a moment, I let her. It had been so long since I’d felt the comfort of another person’s touch.
“Thank you,” I said again.
She pulled back and rested her hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sterling. But I want you to know that I admire you.”
“Admireme? Why?”
“Because I don’t know anyone who would’ve been able to do what you’ve done. You’ve got a lot of courage and determination.”
I stared into her eyes.
“I’m tired, Tiff.”
