Page 98 of The Princess and the Fraud

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Since I still had my keycard on me, instead of going back through the hotel, I led Aaron around to the back of the country club, my hand wrapped around his. “You’re sneaking me inside?” he asked in a hushed voice. “We’re not vandalizing property, right?”

I nearly snorted at the shock in his tone. “You’ll see.”

“I didn’t realize you were this bad of an influence.” He stepped right behind me as I waved my employee badge against the scanner, and the door unlocked with a click. “I hate to admit, I quite like it. Does that make me twisted?”

This time, I did snort, readjusting my grip on his hand so we could walk through the door. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late, my dear.”

The employee wing was completely dark when we stepped out of the cold. The last person to leave must’ve turned off the lights in this wing. It reinforced what I’d needed to confirm, though—wewerealone. Aaron hesitated to let the door close after us, but I tugged him along. “It’s a little freaky after dark,” he murmured, tightening his grip on me.

“Kind of.” I took a right out of the nearest door outside the employee wing, which deposited us into the hallway that we needed. “Hopefully Nancy Du Ponte doesn’t bother us.”

He stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“People say her ghost wanders around at night.” I wiggled the fingers of my free hand at him. “And that the piano in the ballroom mysteriously begins to playon its own.”

Aaron didn’t crack a smile. “You’re not funny.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t have a good history with the late country club founder?”

“She didn’t like me.” Aaron grimaced. “At all. If she’s going to haunt anyone, it’s most definitely going to be me.”

“Best I stick with you, then.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll be the human sacrifice to appease the dead. Why not?” He’d said it jokingly, but then it was like something else occurred to him. “I hope that isn’t why you brought me in here after hours. As some sort of country club sacrifice.”

I could’ve dropped his hand then, simply just allowed him to follow, but I didn’t want to let go. Not yet. “You’ll see.”

“And yet I’m still following you.Definitelytwisted.”

I looked up and smiled at him, even though I was sure he could barely see it in the darkness. For the first time since I’d stumbled upon him tonight, Aaron smiled back.

We came to the hallway that housed the music hall, its door still propped open with light filtering out. Even though I’d been in it practically all day, seeing the door now caused anticipation to swell behind my ribs. Ever since Sunday night, I’d thought about it. And thought about it. And thought about it. And now, I had the chance.

“I get a sneak peek of the fundraiser’s set up?” Aaron guessed as we walked inside. I let go of his hand then, mostly because my palms had begun to sweat. “You’ve been working in here all week, haven’t you?”

“Mostly in the ballroom.” We came to the mouth of the grand room, coming around the front of the stage. I gestured to it. “But it does look different without all the junk, doesn’t it?”

It’d been a feat, finding new places to stash the items that’d been cluttering the stage, but they were all gone now. Instead, the sleek black piano from the ballroom had been moved to perch atop it—which had been a nightmare for the movers—along with the crates of flowers Trisha and Monica had brought in. Aaron’s eyes bounced around the stage before pausing on them. “Indeed.”

“Did you order those before?” I asked Aaron, gesturing at the crates.

“Before?”

“Before you broke things off with Fiona. Someone said they were for a surprise you were planning?”

“Oh.” Aaron looked away from them as if the sight turned his stomach. “Yes. They were ordered before.”

I shouldn’t have said anything;ugh, I could’ve kicked myself. “I’m sure they’ll find somewhere to put them,” I said brightly, and uncaring about my damp palms, I reached for his hand again. “This way.”

Instead of cupping my palm, this time, Aaron wove his fingers between mine, the fit perfect. I led him around the backside of the stage and up the ramp that led to the surface. You couldn’t see it from the main floor, but behind the curtains backstage, there were other instruments lined up in their cases. “The charity had these delivered this morning,” I told him. “For the musicians they’ve invited to perform.”

Aaron nodded, but then again, he was helping out with the charity. He probably knew all that.

Releasing his hand, I walked forward and bent down in front of the case that caught my eye the second it’d entered the building. Like a sailor lured by a siren’s song, I reached for the locks on the hard case, popping them undone. The lid flipped easily, revealing a glistening, glimmering cello beneath. The antiqued Italian oil varnish brought the maple to life, and even in the dimness of the shadows, it was a beacon to me.

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