Page 18 of Saving Sophia

Relax. Be Amber Jade. You can sit and eat a room service salad and have a conversation with this man.

I could do this. I scootched back on the couch, forcing out a breath and making my body relax. My thigh responded with a needle-sharp stinging. I looked down.

Oh no.

The Band-Aid peeled back from my thigh, reopening the cut and leaving a bright red smear on the pristine white couch.

I jumped up in a panic to get the offending blood off the couch before he could come in and discover what I’d done. I clutched my leg with one hand and grabbed for the water bottle with the other, while muttering, “Oh no, no, no!”

And at that exact moment, Ethan walked out of his room.

“Sophia?” Alarm rang in his voice as he crossed over to me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry.” I spun around hopelessly. What if I ruined the couch? Would I have to be on the run from both Mr. Roscoe and this fancy hotel for destruction of property?

His eyes fell on the Band-Aid dangling from my leg. He rested his strong hands on my shoulders to stop me from my hopping and spinning. “Come with me.”

He pulled me into the kitchen. I followed, wondering how much dry cleaning a couch would cost. Could a couch even be dry cleaned? Was Ethan going to throw me out for racking up his bill?

He faced me, his hands resting on my shoulders for a moment, grounding me, before sliding down my arms and finding my waist. I shivered, staring at him. His grip tightened, then he lifted me onto a thickly padded cream barstool. I held my leg up awkwardly to avoid getting blood on that too. Why was every piece of furniture in this place white?

He grabbed something from the pocket of his suit jacket, which was casually slung over another barstool. “I brought Ariel along too, just in case.” He fluttered the second Band-Aid in the air at me, and my mouth fell open. Who was this man?

My skin burst into goosebumps as he cleaned and bandaged my thigh for the second time in one night. I searched for something to say.

“It was Mrs. Helmsley’s unicorn.”

“What?” His lips twitched upward, and he paused in applying the Band-Aid, his hand still resting on my thigh as he looked up at me.

“She was my teacher …the horn is … sharp.” I slumped my shoulders in frustration with my babbling. “It’s glass. It’s broken now.”

He let out a little ahh of understanding. “Can it be fixed?”

I sighed, picturing the things I left behind in my room, broken, disheveled and picked over by investigators, and my nose began to sting. Sadness and loss swept over me, and I shook my head so hard my hair almost came undone. I bit the inside of my cheek, determined not to cry.

“Well, good thing you can be.”

My nose stung again, and tears hovered behind my eyes. Why was he being so sweet? “I’m so sorry,” I said, wincing.

“What could you possibly be sorry for?” He looked genuinely perplexed.

Everything.

“I … the trouble … the room … the couch … it’s?—”

“Just a couch?” He stroked a finger gently along my chin then stood up, grabbing a towel and wetting it at the sink’s arched silver faucet.

I trailed behind him, back to the scene of the crime, then stared as he crouched down by the couch and wiped at the smear with the wet towel. The stain vanished, and I gasped, realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Problem solved.” He winked, the gold flecks in his eyes dancing.

I stared at him, then at the couch, then back at him. He wasn’t mad. He fixed the couch. He fixed me. My hand drifted up to my locket and I traced the engraved letters with the ball of my thumb. His gaze dropped to the little gold heart, and I wrapped my fingers tight around it, hiding it from his view.

A rapid knocking at the door made me flinch. He stood up and tossed the towel aside with a flourish. “Food’s here.”

A hotel employee in a neat, black uniform with two golden capital H’s embroidered on the lapels wheeled a cart over to the coffee table in the living room, directly next to the recently fixed couch. At Ethan’s direction, he set out several platters with silver covers. The smells coming from them were yummy … and familiar somehow?

The server carefully lifted the one nearest me.

“Spaghetti tacos!” I didn’t even bother to hide the happy squeal.

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