Juvenile or not, she was desperate to see him or talk to him.
“Robert—”
“No.”
“But it’s your fault in the first place.” God, talk about juvenile. Jeez, Ele.
Robert didn’t dignify her words with a remark. Ele, feeling foolish and stupid, looked out the window. She could say she’d exhausted every avenue today. She’d tried asking nicely, pleading, cajoling, whining, and demanding. Robert refused to help her, but she needed to talk to Tristan today, and she knew just how to do it.
They pulled into the hotel parking lot thirty minutes later. Although she followed protocol, she rushed through the security checks to get to her room. Once there, she changed her clothes. She waited a bit and then picked up the hotel phone and called the front desk.
When the clerk answered, Ele said, “Margaret Smith’s room,” using the code name assigned.
Juliana picked up on the second ring.
“Can you shake Noah,” Ele asked, “and make sure Robert sees you when you come to my room?”
Jules cackled. “Does the queen wear her crown to bed?” Jules responded before disconnecting.
Ele chuckled. The three of them were convinced Queen Lilian wore her crown everywhere, if for no other reason than to assure herself that everyone she encountered would see it perched on her lovely head. Ele didn’t have to wait long for her sister to show up. And Jules did not disappoint.
“Perfect,” Ele murmured.
Jules walked in the door, a sullen-faced Robert behind her. He bowed and left the sisters alone.
“I need your clothes,” Ele explained.
Jules’s face lit up with her trademark mischievous grin. She didn’t ask questions or hesitate. She stripped out of her fuchsia joggers, black sweatshirt, and black-and-pink trainers. Ele did the same, shucking her flannel pajama pants and tank top. They switched. When Ele was dressed, Jules circled her.
“Sit,” she said, pointing to the sofa. “Let me get your hair right.”
Ele’s hair was still in an elegant chignon from their appearance earlier. Jules made quick work of the pins and brushed her fingers through Ele’s hair. She pulled it up into a ponytail and dropped the hat on her head.
“I wore it low and gave Robert the usual hard time, so you should be good to waltz out of here.”
Ele nodded. She stood up and took off for the door. Jules grabbed her arm before she could grasp the handle.
“Are you sure about this?” Juliana asked, her features creased with worry.
Up until the moment Jules had asked the question, Ele hadn’t even given it any thought. She would be going to a different floor of the hotel. She didn’t even have to walk outside. There wasn’t anything to be worried about—no unknown elements, no unidentified people. She just needed to talk to Tristan.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Do you know where to go?”
“Yes. Robert briefed me on evacuation routes before we arrived. I know where I need to go.”
She avoided telling Jules where she was going and why. Jules, while far more street-smart than Ele, would always be her younger, wilder sister. Walking around a hotel by herself was a normal occurrence for Jules. There was no reason it couldn’t be .for Ele. She reached for the door again.
“Are you sure he’s worth it?”
Ele stopped in her tracks. It was the simplest of questions. Her conversation with the queen came back to her. They’d all been patiently waiting for Ele to be normal. Twelve years of waiting. For the first time since that day, Ele found something she wanted. Maybe he wasn’t perfect for her. Maybe he wouldn’t end up being worth it. But in the end, it didn’t really matter. If she walked out this door and tried to do something by herself, for herself, then the question was answered. Because Tristan might not end up being for her. But she wanted this right now.
So, she answered the only way she could, “Yes.”
Then, she pulled open the door.
Because, most importantly, she was worth it.
11
19 June
The Michigan Inn
Tristan threw the controller and raised his hands in the air. “Victory!” Then, he looked at Caleb. “Again.”
“All right, Junior, out of the way.”
“Ro, you have to get out of the losers bracket before you can take on the champ,” Tristan said, lifting his training shirt at the chest, emphasizing his number. He snickered. “Grumpy Gramps is going to try to take me down for you,” he teased them with a wink at Caleb.
“Whatever. I can’t help it that you have five years more practice time,” Caleb responded with far more indignation than necessary.
“That’s right, Junior. I will always have more experience than you.” Tristan wiggled his eyebrows, and Rowan threw a pillow at his head.
“Go grab a couple of drinks for us. I’ll handle you when you get back,” Rowan commanded.
“I got you, Skip,” Tristan said before he turned and bounded out of the room.
The hotel had a hospitality room available for them, filled with approved snacks and drinks. Tristan strolled down the hallway, scrolling through his phone. He pulled up his photos and picked one of the us-ies he had taken with the boys, playing video games. Quickly, he loaded one and wrote, Downtime well spent. Adding a couple of smiling emojis, he posted. He flipped back through his pictures, searching fruitlessly, knowing what he was looking for didn’t exist. He had zero evidence of his relationship with Ele.
Relationship? He shook his head.
The day had been lighthearted and fun. Cavorting around Chicago with Caleb’s family and playing video games all evening should have steamrolled the epic finale of the night before. Around midday, he’d realized he’d been an ass to Ele. But by then, it had been too late to do anything about it.
He slipped into the hospitality room and rummaged through the offerings. Grabbing a couple of drinks, he headed back to Caleb’s. He was about to knock when the Exit door closed, drawing his attention, but when he looked, there was nothing there. As ridiculous as it seemed, something continued to hold his interest. He rapped on Caleb’s door, and when it opened, he handed the drinks to Rowan.
“Be right back,” he said.
He walked to the stairwell door, peering inside. A flash of pink darted around the corner to the floor below.
“Ele?” Tristan whisper-yelled.
A squeak of trainers on the rubberized floor alerted him to the person’s presence. He let the door close silently behind him, and he followed the steps down. Against the wall on the landing below stood a wide-eyed princess. Tristan remained where he was, seven or eight steps above her.
He tilted his head in question. “Where’s Robert?” he asked.
Ele bit her lip, and her eyes skittered away from his. “Probably outside of the suite.”
“And what are you wearing?” he asked. He tried to disguise the mirth in his expression, but she looked so unlike herself that he couldn’t help but tease.
Ele glanced down at her outfit, and her head leaned back against the cement wall. “I ordered Juliana to give up her clothes.”
Tristan chuckled. “You are just full of surprises.”
She peered up at him. “Are you still mad at me?”