The last time she’d been here, she’d tried to get me to come to her place for Christmas, but the chances of a Hunter run-in were too high for that.
“You’re going to turn into a mummy in this room.”
“I’m moving and haven’t been ingesting any pine needles or whatever it is those monks eat for self-mummification, so I think I’ll be fine.”
“When was the last time you left the room?”
I opened my mouth.
“Not to put a tray outside.”
And snapped it shut. “I’ve answered my emails and have five client meetings set up for the second week in January. That gives me two weeks to get my life together, figure out where the hell I’ll be living, and find a work space.” There was also the semi-important issue of how to retrieve all my equipment from Hunter’s. I didn’t care about my things, but my work gear I’d need—soon. And that made me tired, weary to my bones, which made me think maybe self-mummification wouldn’t be such a terrible thing after all.
The clouds would part and I’d have to get over this eventually. I’d been knocked down before, but this time, dragging myself back up felt like standing at the base of a craggy, jagged mountain in bare feet.
“What about Cat? Will she be back in town soon?”
“I don’t think so. She’s in Australia or Austria. The connection was bad last time we spoke.”
I’d kept my texts to Cat brief and vague. It was the holidays and she might have a whole day off at some point, she didn’t need to be worrying about me half a world away.
Plus, I had everything I needed.
Meals arrived three times a day even though I didn’t do more than pick at the food that came up. Was this the thing where people talked about being so upset they could barely eat? Apparently, I’d never really experienced this type of hurt before. Normally I’d grab a pint of ice cream or box of cinnamon rolls to make it all feel better, but this was different.
Housekeeping and I had come to an agreement and I’d handled most of the cleaning, mainly so I didn’t have to leave the room.
But today was quieter than normal. The hallways were quiet. The streets were deserted. The whole city felt like it had slept in for the day.
Zara left not long after and I couldn’t blame her, not one bit.
“Merry Christmas to me.” I stared at the room service tray with my plastic-wrap-covered container of gravy. It had been delivered hours ago. The top of the gravy had congealed. The smells had turned from appetizing to awful.
My stomach rumbled, and I placated it with a bit of turkey and some gravy Jell-O while watching the gentle dusting of snow on the ledges of the buildings across from my window.
A knock on the door pulled me from my stare-athon at the white-light-lined building across from me. I’d turned off the lights to see it—and also so I wouldn’t have to see my reflection sitting at the desk beside the window.
I opened the door without checking to see who it was and gasped, not sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Jesus. If your face were any puffier, I’d think you’d been attacked by bees.” Cat stood in the hallway, complete with a red and white Santa hat. “But I’d still like a kiss.” She held a sprig of mistletoe above our heads.
Instead of serving back a biting retort, I burst into tears.
Her face fell. “Shit.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me so tightly it was hard to breathe—or maybe my lungs had just given up. “Don’t do that; I’m sorry. I know I’m a total asshole. I wasn’t sure what level of breakup you were at.” Her Cat-hug magic worked, and she rocked me. “I can see how you’re still in the chest-bursting tears phase.” She shhed and rubbed my back. Her arms were warm and tight around my shoulders.
My cries turned to hiccups, and I lifted my head from her tear-soaked coat. I jolted when I saw the hotel room door hadn’t closed.
There was a man in the hallway with his hand splayed against the door, keeping it from closing.
Fear gripped my chest. Had he been here the whole time? Who the hell was he?
I held onto Cat tighter and whispered to her, “There’s a guy behind you.”
She waved her hand like it was a mild annoyance that a large, scowling man had his gaze locked onto both of us. “Don’t mind him.” A look of irritation flashed on her face, and she glanced over her shoulder. “You asked and now you can see. You can leave now.”
His lips pursed. The severe look didn’t seem like one he could ever take off. It was etched in the strong lines of his face and would’ve probably sent most people diving for cover. Cat spoke to him like an overly large nuisance.
“When will you be back?” The thickly rich accent spilled from his lips, not overly harsh or severe like his look. As I’d suspected, this was one of the Ivans. Or maybe it was one of the other two.
“I’ll see you on the second. I haven’t used a single vacation day in three years. I’d say I deserve it.”
“We’re going to Washington for New Year’s Day.”
“Have fun.” She stared at me, not even sparing him a glance anymore.
“I’ll need you for the meeting at one p.m. that day.”
A seething sound escaped from her pinched lips. “Fine, then I’ll be there for the meeting at one. If I smell like a bar exploded on me, that’ll be your job to explain it to the clients.”
The muscle in his neck tensed, and a vein on his forehead bulged. “Try to be at least half-sober.”
“I’ll be as sober as you are. You can close the door now.” Dismissiveness shot through her words like barbs like he wasn’t one of the people signing her check. It must be nice to have that much job security—or balls.
His gaze lit with a fire that didn’t seem like it was all anger. There was an undercurrent I couldn’t put my finger on, but from how tense Cat was, I wasn’t sure she believed she’d be able to get rid of him this easily.
Instead his gaze jumped to mine. “It is nice to meet you, Cat’s friend Sabrina.”
Wow, he knew who I was.
On a hunch, I threw out the most likely name. “Nice to meet you too, Ivan?”
He nodded. “The car will be here at nine a.m. to pick you up on the first.”
“I can’t wait. Bye.” She tilted half her body backward rather than turning around, and flicked her fingers toward the hallway.
The muscles on his jaw were getting a work out. The tension in his face coupled with those cheekbones—how anyone stopped staring at him was beyond me. “I will see you soon, Cat.”
The door slammed closed behind him, and her shoulders dropped. Tension escaped her like a breath she’d been holding.
“What was that?”
“Don’t worry about him. I’m here for you. For the next few days, we’re doing nothing but watching terrible TV, ordering room service, and lying in bed. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds a lot like what I’ve been doing already.”
Her nose scrunched up at the abandoned tray sitting on the room service trolley. “Not so much the eating part.”
She placed an order for a pizza, two slices of double chocolate cake, and glasses of cold milk.
“Minibar prices are such a rip-off. I’ll be right back.” After bundling up, she ducked out to stop by a liquor store she’d seen a couple blocks away.