Page 97 of Fire

Chapter 26

Rome was lovely, or at least what Gwen could see of it through the window of the van that drove her and part of the crew to their hotel. She was exhausted, traveling for over fifteen hours—including a layover in London—and even though she’d spent a lot of the flight sleeping, it hadn’t been restful, and she was more than ready to crawl into bed. Jet lag was no joke. But she figured she’d better get used to it.

Gwen pulled out her phone and saw no missed calls or texts. She’d tried to reach Blake as soon as she’d landed, but it had gone straight to voicemail. She wouldn’t panic, it was too soon for him to have forgotten about her—yes, she was kidding, sorta, maybe—but she did want to hear his voice.

In lieu of that, she pulled up her photos, scrolling until she found her favorite—Blake standing at the bar before the club opened. He’d been laughing at something she’d said, and she’d pulled her phone out and snapped a picture while he’d still been smiling.

“Who’s the hottie? Boyfriend?”

Gwen tore her eyes from the picture to look at her seatmate. She was a twenty-something blonde with pixie features and a grin that showed perfectly even, white teeth. Her smile was contagious, and Gwen found her lips tipping into one. “Yeah.” She looked back down and fingered the picture, causing it to grow smaller. She gave it a tap to blow it back up.

“I’m Rebecca Moore. Becky for short.”

Gwen saw a hand enter her periphery, and looked back over, taking Becky’s hand. “Gwen Butler.”

“Hopefully, with us sitting together, that means we’ll be sharing a room.”

“Sharing a room?” Gwen asked, confused.

“Yeah, we all have to double up. Some even have to triple up.” She winced. “I hope I’m not one ofthem.”

She guessed that made sense. The production company wouldn’t shell out rooms for each of them individually. Not to mention, if they did, there probably wouldn’t be enough available rooms in the hotel. They were a very large group.

They pulled up in front of the hotel, and she and Becky sidled out of their seat, grabbed their stuff, and got off the van. More production crew vans lined the front and people from their party already filled the lobby. It was a madhouse, but Gwen hoped it was, at least, an organized one. Making her way around the crowd, she spotted Frank at the reception desk and hoped he sorting shit out. She found an empty spot against a wall and sank to her butt.

She pulled out her phone and tried Blake again. Still no answer. She tipped her head back and rested it against the wall, closing her eyes. Why wasn’t he answering? She knew she was being paranoid, but the distance between them felt more than just physical at that moment.

Time passed slowly. Soon, groups of two and three were called as Frank handed out keys. The lobby started to clear until she was the last one left.

She got up from her spot as she saw Frank head toward the elevator. “Hey, Frank.”

He turned, walking over when he spied her. “That was crazy, right?” He scanned the empty lobby shaking his head in bemusement. “And it’s going to be like that at every stop.”

Feeling a bit awkward she said. “You didn’t call my name. I don’t have a room.”

He gave her a weird smile. “Your room’s been set up already. Sorry, I thought you knew. You just need to go to reception and check in.”

“I don’t have to share a room?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” That would have been nice to know an hour ago, she thought as she shouldered her bag and picked up her suitcase before trudging over to the reception desk. She could’ve been showered and in bed by now.

She tiredly greeted the woman behind the counter, giving her name.

“Gwen Butler?” she asked after typing her name into the computer. “It says there’s a package for you in the safe. Let me go get it.”

Weird.

It took a few minutes for her to return, and when she did, she was carrying a clear, zippered bag containing a small, square box. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Gwen opened the bag and examined the box. It wasn’t wrapped in brown paper with her name or the hotel’s address stamped on it, so it hadn’t been mailed. The box was plain and white and tied with a red ribbon. She pulled out a red envelope—again sans her name—and was just thinking the hotel had made a mistake when she opened it to find a familiar looking postcard sized card with Fire embossed at the top.

Blake.

The card simply read in Blake’s precise script.Hope when I see you next time, you’ll say yes.

Her eyes flew back to the box, and she pulled it out of the bag with a shaky hand. Tugging at the ribbon, she let it fall to the counter as she opened the lid. Inside was a black, velvet ring box.

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