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“Stop,” Kami said. “Let me have the satisfaction of saying ‘Jackpot’ so you can be both startled and impressed.”
“Okay.”
“Jackpot,” said Kami. “You can look now.”
Jared leaned on the back of her chair and looked over her shoulder. Kami used the cursor to point out the names of the guests to him. “Slow night,” Kami commented. “Only three guests. Jocelyn and Chris Fairchild, looking to get a romantic night without the kids. And Terry Cholmondeley—”
“With his wife,” Jared said. “Madeline.”
“Well, he’s not actually married,” Kami said. “He’s from Sorry-in-the-Vale, though. So that leaves us Henry Thornton from London. Who came down alone for one night.” Kami pressed PRINT on the page with Henry Thornton’s details on it. The printer obliged her with a soft whirring sound.
The sound of steps down the corridor made Kami freeze, then she reached out with shaky hands to flip up the edge of the warm paper emerging from the printer. She could see half of Henry Thornton’s address—she just needed one more minute.…
Jared spun her chair around. She glanced up into his eyes.
Someone’s coming, he thought at her. You’d better kiss me.
“Because someone’s coming? That’s so clichéd,” Kami said. She stood, grabbing the printed page in one hand. They both heard a step outside the door. Jared leaned down and hesitated.
He wasn’t going to do it. He always tried to avoid actually touching her.
The door opened.
The woman standing in the doorway wore a Surer Guest apron. Kami was uneasily aware of the stains on theirs. She also hoped the woman hadn’t heard the sound of a computer being turned off.
“What are you two doing?”
“Dusting!” Kami exclaimed.
The woman snorted. “As if I didn’t know.”
“I assure you, we weren’t canoodling,” Kami said.
“Really,” the woman said. “Then may I ask what you were doing?”
“You caught us,” Jared announced. “Totally—uh—canoodling. The laundry room was occupied by fellow canoodlers, so we took a chance.”
“The laundry …” The woman glanced down the hall. “You two stay right there. I’m going to have a word with your supervisor!” She set off.
Jared and Kami exchanged a look. Then they both dashed for the door, into the hall, and in the other direction from the woman as fast as they could run, and through the door at the end of the corridor. They blundered into darkness and then into several other things.
Jared cursed. “What is that?”
Kami patted the object in an investigatory fashion. “I think it’s an exercise bike. My other theory, that it’s a giant whisk, seems unlikely.”
“Okay,” Jared said in a whisper, breathless from running, and sounding like he wanted to laugh. “Just a little gym. That’s okay. Let’s just go through here. Take my—” He cut himself off before he said “hand.”
Kami didn’t take his hand. It wouldn’t help; it would put them more off balance, and it wasn’t like they could lose each other.
They were both silent, pretending they couldn’t feel the other’s discomfort, until they went through into another room and Jared fell over what Kami thought was a massage chair.
His amusement flared through her. After a moment, she said, “Lucky that door was open.”
“If it hadn’t been,” Jared said, close by her ear, “I could have got it open.”
Kami negotiated past a massage table and into what seemed to be a cupboard full of bottles, which rocked ominously for a minute. She made for the next door, visible by the dim glow in the next room, not like there was a light on but as if there was a fish tank in there.
“No, you could not have,” she told Jared, smiling at him in the dark. “Not by breaking anything or jimmying any locks or indeed performing any acts of delinquency at all. Because you’ve reformed.”
