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Slowly, new questions form. If the mugs are theirs . . .
“So . . . what about the lights?” I say.
“Me,” Brittney says.
My eyes widen. “Candle?”
“Also me,” Brittney says, starting to sound proud. “I thought the place needed a little glow.”
“I liked it,” I say quickly. “It was a very nice touch.”
Brittney gives a little-girlish smile and raises her eyebrows at Sam as if to say, “See? I told you it was better.”
My eyes flicker over to Sam. “So . . . the two of you are a couple, then. Who found the ARC room too.”
Brittney grins and says as loudly as ever, “Yes, we did. I found it last June when running an errand for Ms. P. The door was open—”
I can’t help but wince, vaguely remembering second-guessing myself one day last summer with the question of if I had actually shut it or not.
“—and I was just about bowled over when I discovered what was inside. But I never really had a reason to use it—”
A reason? What does she mean, “never really had a reason”? It’s a hidden room!
“—until Sam and I started dating,” she continues. “And yes, we are dating. Didn’t want to announce it until Giselle was gone. But now that she’s moved on to . . .”
“Hostessing at the Painted Pony Saloon,” I say, filling in the blanks for her.
“Right.” She nods. “Now that she’s at the Painted Pony, we are happy to make the news official.” She reaches for Sam’s hand and holds tight for good measure. “Going to that little room every once in a while was just our way to have some nice little meet-and-greets in secret until we could share.”
“Not that our work has suffered,” Sam adds suddenly, looking directly at Will. “We made very sure of that. Just like you all did, too, I’m sure.”
At that point Will and I glance at each other.
“Of course,” we both say at once.
“Right,” Will adds.
“And for that matter, you were obviously doing work in there, as I now understand,” Sam says, loosening up a bit now that he’s been openly cleared. He looks at me. “Isn’t that right . . . Holly?”
His eyes twinkle oh so slightly with the name.
“Don’t worry,” he continues, no doubt seeing my cheeks flush. “I’m a lawyer by trade. I’m used to confidentiality. The secret’s safe with us.”
“We could be like ARC buddies,” Brittney adds, her cheeks glowing with the sudden inspiration. “It could be like our own secret fraternity.”
I nod on and on as the conversation turns enthusiastically toward homemade T-shirts with our secret club logo stamped on the front, group handshakes, and double dates. It stops on the question of double dates, and my eyes shift to Will.
His, too, look uncertainly back at me.
“Brittney, how about we go get that coffee mug from Savannah’s room and have a go at them?” Sam says, clearly seeing the situation at hand.
And as they move out of the room, it’s just Will and me.
“I thought it was Sam,” I confess immediately and rub both hands up my temples. “Oh, this is all so confusing. I thought my editor was Sam.”
“Sam?” Will says incredulously. He looks like he’s been slapped in the face. “How could you think I was Sam?”
“Well, I kept running into him up there, just as he was coming and looking so guilty every time I saw him, and—oh,” I say, closing my eyes. “It all makes sense now. So . . . let me just run this through out loud. You’re him.”
