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I do, however, see some of the women she was here with last night. Making my way over to them, I search for Claire’s face again. My heart drops when I still don’t see her.
As I approach, a familiar face turns. Claire’s colleague.
“Hey,” she says, stepping forward. She extends a hand. “I’m Maya. You probably remember me as the woman who made a total fool out of herself last night.”
I laugh and shake her hand. “No worries, Maya. I’ve been there, too.”
“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night.”
“It’s all good.” I think I see Claire behind her, but it only takes me another half-second to realize it isn’t her. “Is Claire here?”
“Nope. Not tonight. She’s back at the hotel.”
“Ah. Gotcha. Thanks.”
Time to get out of here, then. Although…shit. I don’t know what room she’s in.
“She’s in Room 403,” Maya says, as if reading my mind. “Don’t make me regret sharing that with you.”
“Thanks, Maya.”
“Have fun. Don’t keep her up too late.”
I laugh and give her a nod. Then I weave my way out of the crowded bar and go straight back to the hotel. One too-slow elevator ride later, I’m up on the fourth floor. But when I get to Claire’s room and knock, she doesn’t answer.
I knock again, and there’s still silence.
Fuck.
Well, either she’s sleeping, or she’s not in her room. Either way, this is useless. I walk back to the elevator and step in. My finger hovers over the button for my floor, but before I can punch it, another button catches my eye—the one for the rooftop pool.
I didn’t bring anything to swim in. But that doesn’t mean I can’t just sit up there and unwind for a bit. I jab the button with my thumb, and the elevator doors close.
A quick ride later, the elevator doors open up to a small hallway. I follow it down to a pair of glass doors that open to the hotel’s rooftop pool. As I step out onto the terrace, I quickly take in my surroundings and see that the place is empty.
Scratch that.
Almost empty.
There’s someone in the pool, down at the far end, completely submerged beneath the surface of the water. The swimmer is moving through the water like she was born for it, and when she breaks through the surface to come up for air, I’m struck by the gracefulness of her movement.
Then I realize it’s Claire.
I walk over to the edge of the pool, my chest warming. Claire reaches the edge at the same time. When she looks up, shaking water from her face, she sees me and raises her eyebrows.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” she says.
“And yet here I am,” I say. “How’s the water?”
“It’s perfect.”
“Wish I’d packed my trunks.”
Claire glances around and shrugs. Jokingly, she says, “It’s not like there’s anyone else around.”
“Is that an invitation?”
Claire chews on her bottom lip as she considers it. Then she says, “Come in if you want,” and pushes off the wall, swimming back toward the other side of the pool.
