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“You’re…something else, Onyx Davies.” Falcon whispers tenderly. “Are you hurt?”
I smile, shake my head, and kiss his chest. I turn to the left and find Dylan curled up in Grayson’s arms beside me. Gray winks, and for once, I don’t blush. Silas strokes my back in long, comforting touches. He’s lying on his back on my other side, staring at the roof with a half smile.
My happiness fades, and I close my eyes as I realise the huge…critical error I've just made. This feels right. The five of us together like this.
This is my dream. The one I’m not allowed to have. In the darkest moments, when I don’t have the strength to remember reality, I dream of this. With that clarity comes a deep fear and then a resolve.
I’m going to enjoy it while I can. For a little while, I can pretend I can be more, have more, and then I’ll take the job on the other side of the world and go back to where I belong. I shift in Falcon’s arms, getting comfortable.
I reach out and wrap my fingers around Dylan’s hands. He smiles in his sleep.
But I don’t have to go just yet.
twenty-four
Onyx
Ineed distance.
Those three words go around and around in my head as I scurry through the hotel, finding my way to the dining room. I’m not too proud to admit that I’m running. But this…it’s all too much and too big for someone like me.
I exhale and enter the room. The lights are bright and only a half a dozen tables have people sitting at them. Everyone seems subdued and relaxed. I spot Simon and sneak up until I stand right beside him.
He glances from his tablet down at me and raises his eyebrows. “Miss Davies.”
“I need to clean something. An oven or a pool. Perhaps some windows. Got a carpet that needs to be beat?”
Simon frowns slightly. “Alpha Treyfield, Hastings, and Waters would be irate if I made you clean-”
“I’m asking. Like, as a favour. One normal working person to another. Give me some manual labour. I've searched the hotel high and low, and everything is disgustingly clean.”
He presses his lips together, and I get the distinct impression he’s laughing at me. But he’s far too professional to let me see.
“Follow me.”
I let out the breath I've been holding. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head and mutters something we both pretend not to hear.
“How long have you worked for Falcon?”
“I’ve worked for Alpha Treyfield for five years. But I worked for the Hastings Hotels from the time I was seventeen.”
“Wow. So you know it all, then?”
“I have a good understanding of how the hotel works.”
“They are…stunning. When I worked at the Lillith and the Evelyn hotels, I really saw how impressive the Hasting Hotels really are. But Ingrid was legendary, she’s my favourite of the hotels, with those painted walls and such classy charm.”
“I noted in your file that you worked for us. How did you find it?”
“It was good money. Long hours. We didn’t get breaks, but we were temps.”
Simon grunts. “I’ll have a word with them. Temps are supposed to get breaks.”
I shrug. “Work is work.”
Simon’s mouth parts, and I think it’s his surprised face. He pushes a door open, and I find myself in a dark storage room. It’s huge, but when he flips the light, it’s got white floors, it’s clean, and there are dozens of metal shelves full of boxes and different equipment. It’s the nicest storage room I've ever been in.
