Page 33 of The Best Wild Idea
Flaunt it?I narrow my eyes. “I’ll add it to the list, Jules,” I murmur, possibly too quiet for her to hear, then add a bit louder, “And I do, by the way.”
“You do what?”
“Care. About you. Now. Then. Always have,” I tell her smoothly and calmly as if I’m reciting an indisputable fact from a history book.
Another pocket of air makes the plane dip, harder this time, before righting again. Jules’ hand shoots back to my forearm, grabbing it even harder.
I look down pointedly at her nails digging into my skin, then up at her face. Her eyes are still closed but she cracks a discreet smile, as if she knows she’s being ridiculous. She might want comfort right now, but she’s not going to pretend like it’s okay coming from me.
I smirk in her direction, even though she can’t see it, before straightening my face to stare at the back of the seat a few yards in front of me. I’ll play the game. I’ll allow her hand to squeeze my arm harder with each passing moment without acknowledging that it’s even there.
I peek one eye over at her.
She must feel my gaze and the obnoxious grin that accompanies it.
“Shut up and just let me hold your arm,” she mumbles. Then she yelps when the plane takes another sizable dip.
I chuckle and shake my head toward the front of the plane when Andy pops his head out of the galley to check on us. I wavehim off silently, wondering what Grant might think if he could see us right now. Probably happy that we’re together, if not still on rocky territory.
“Sure, Jules,” I say, under my breath, still smiling to myself. “Whatever you need.”
* * *
Things don’t get much better once we arrive at the hotel.
“What do you mean we’re staying in the same suite? Monica said she would look into changing that.”
Jules is staring at me like I’ve just thrown a glass of ice water over her head, both annoyed and wildly unimpressed.
“I believe she said it was too late for this hotel,” I say, getting a nod from the attendant on the other side of the check-in counter.
We’re standing in the lobby of Interlaken’s most beautiful luxury hotel, right in front of the reservations desk. The opulent motif in here is like an old-world chalet sandwiched between two glowing turquoise mountain lakes, each fed by the towering snow-capped mountain peaks surrounding them. But Juliet’s excitement and awe for the scenery subsided the moment the attendant behind the counter mentioned our one and only suite reservation was ready.
“You can’t be serious, Silas. You have more money than God, which we don’t even need to discuss. Just get another one so I can have this one.”
She turns back to the attendant and slaps her credit card on the counter.
“You know what? I’ll just pay for another room,” she says, throwing a bit of cheer into her voice.
The attendant doesn’t move, clearly waiting for our squabble to end.
“This is how Grant asked Monica to set up the reservations,” I remind her, pushing her credit card back toward her. Apparently, Monica gave her false hope. “You won’t even know I’m there once we’re checked in. There are multiple rooms in the suite. This is how Grant set it all up so let’s just go with it.”
“Well, Grant’s dead.” We both cringe at the worddead, but she continues, turning back toward the worker behind the counter. “So, he doesn’t get to make the arrangements anymore. I’d like my own, please.”
She slides the card back across the reservation desk toward the woman checking us in.
“I’m sorry, it’s the only suite of rooms we have open currently, but it’s a two-bedroom setup so there’s separate sleeping quarters, a living room, and a dining area,” she tells my surly travel partner. “It’s quite private for you both.”
“You heard her. It’s quite private,” I repeat.
She glares at me, nose flaring with every inhale, like she’d rather bolt from this hotel than stay in any room that’s connected to mine.
She turns back to the attendant.
“I’ll take a non-suite then, please. And there’s supposed to be a letter waiting for me here?”
“The only other room I have open is . . .quitenice.”
