Page 72 of The Princess and the Fraud

The faint sound intensified the closer I got to the bathrooms, and by the time I stood outside the door, I realized it wasn’t just crying, but full-on sobbing. I pushed inside, expecting to find the tiled room empty and someone crying in a stall, but instead, I found a figure crouched on the floor near the sinks, her arms wrapped around her knees.Paige.

“Hey, hey.” I rushed over to her. “Paige, what’s wrong?”

She had her head buried atop of her folded arms, her ponytail falling over her shoulder to obscure her face further. Her whole body heaved with her cries, though, in a way that reminded me of a child.

I grabbed onto her upper arms, heart already aching even though I had no idea what was going on. “Paige, what happened?”

“They—theydismissed me.” The words came out in a half-choked croak, and when she lifted her face, I found her swollen eyes. Tears tracked down her cheeks, bleeding her mascara and smudging her foundation. “Mr. Robertsfired me.”

The words seemed to break a dam inside her, and she leaned forward to press her face into my shoulder, allowing the thin fabric of my polo to absorb her next sob. It took a moment for my arms to wrap around her, disbelieving. “Hewhat?”

“He said—locking the elevator without checking was too big of a mistake.” Her voice was muffled, but the words still shot through me. “He said that—that—that a guest with t-too much authority complained. Mr. Roberts said—he said his hands were tied!”

I’d been smoothing a hand down her back, but I froze. “A guest complained?”

“I thought he wasn’t mad!” Paige pulled back to peer up at me again, eyes wide and heartbroken. “I thought Aaron knew it was just an accident! Lovey, you know I’m hardly ever on the front desk, and never at night. I—I had no idea about locking it on the ground floor! I forgot!” She let out a strangled cry. “I have student loan payments due. What am I going todo?”

Heat slowly poured through my veins, a fire igniting as the gears in my head turned. My chest almost seemed to hum as I drew in a breath. “A guest complained,” I repeated in a barely controlled voice. “Aninfluential one.”

“Aaron didn’t seem angry, did he?” Paige asked, hiccupping on air as she sat back. “I—I didn’t think he seemed angry! He seemed more upset about the ice machine?—”

Shoving to my feet on shaking legs, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, my expression scarily calm, red ebbing at the corners of my vision. “I’m going to kill him,” I said to my reflection. “I’m going tokill him.”

Paige sniffled, sadness bleeding into alarm. “Lovey?—”

But I didn’t wait for her to finish. I turned on my heel and shoved open the bathroom door, setting off. I felt like a shark who’d gotten a whiff of blood, moments away from frenzying. It was one thing to be mad at me for being harsh, but to complain toMr. Roberts? To get Paige fired over amistake? Aaron could be embarrassed all he wanted over what he’d confessed, but retaliating this way? Not a chance.

As I crossed from the Alderton-Du Ponte lobby into the hotel’s, I half-hoped I’d run into Fiona. Aaron could make problems where there weren’t any? Well, so could I.

But Fiona wasn’t in the hotel lobby. I bypassed Trisha at the front desk, avoiding her eyes, all but slapping the button on the elevator to open the doors. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I stood in this very elevator as my world turned from one side to the other, and now, it felt like it was coming apart at the seams again. Only this time, I had enough spark in my flame to do something about it.

The elevator doors parted on the eighth floor, and I stormed off, each breath I drew in doing nothing to calm the fury in my lungs. I stalked down the hallway, already relishing in how hard I’d get to rap my fist against his hotel door. Hopefully he was sleeping in. Hopefully I’d scare the hell out of him.

But when I was still steps away from 801, the door opened, and Aaron, wearing a dark red long-sleeved button-down and dress pants, stepped out. He was adjusting his shirt sleeve when he caught me from the corner of his eye, fully lifting his head. “Oh, fancy seeing you here,” he said, and then frowned as I got closer. “Is that snot on your shirt?”

“Youprick.”

Aaron’s spine stiffened. “Hello to you too?”

Without warning, I shoved my hand into his shoulder hard. Hard enough that pain shot up my bones from the connection, and Aaron couldn’t secure his footing fast enough as he reached out to steady himself against the hotel wall. “Every time I think you mightpossiblyhave a shred of decency in you, you prove me wrong.”

Aaron looked down at me with an expression so closed off that there wasn’t even a gleam of emotion in his eyes. “Care to tell me what you’re so angry about, my dear, or are you going to make me guess?”

The flippancy of the reply had my hand shooting out again, shoving at his other bicep. This time, he sturdied his stance, and only moved an inch. “You complained to Mr. Roberts.”

“About you?”

“AboutPaige. About the elevator last night.” I scoffed hard. “I told you she didn’t know—it was an honest mistake, and yet you justhadto be the victim in that situation, didn’t you? You had to manipulate everything again to getempathy.”

Aaron watched me with detached indifference, and it was only his clenched jaw that clued his true feelings.

“Is this your way of getting revenge? You’re so embarrassed about me turning you down that you had to run to our boss?” My heart slammed in my ears, almost as loud as my voice, which I was sure echoed off the walls. “Paige is agood person. I’m sorry you have this stupid desire to impress your family and steal someone else’s company, but other people have real problems, like whether or not they can make rent because some entitledidiotreported them!”

Aaron caught my wrist before it could connect with his shoulder again, and though the grip wasn’t tight, it was firm. Unyielding. His voice was low. “Did you askMr. Holland?”

I tried to jerk my arm free, but he didn’t give in. “What?”

“Did you ask your ex if he talked to your boss?” he asked flatly. “Because, dear Lovisa, even though you’ve convinced yourself—and have quite effectively showcased it to me—I didn’t say a thing to this Mr. Roberts about your friend. Why would I, when she’d already apologized?”

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