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She laughed. “I thought for sure my father would call out every law enforcement organization and the national guard. I left a note telling them I was leaving and not to do that. I guess the note helped.”
“Do you miss them?” he asked.
Breely’s chest tightened. “It’s hard not to. After spending twenty-eight years with them, it was an adjustment to be on my own.” She shook her head from side to side. “But I had to do it. I know it sounds cliché, but I needed to find myself.”
“And have you?” Moe asked.
“I’ve only been out for two months. But I was getting there,” she said. “As Bea Smith, working at the tavern, people didn’t see me as the only child of Robert Brantt. They saw Bea, the waitress. It was liberating. Stan didn’t treat me any differently than any other waitress.” She glanced his way. “He’s gruff but a big teddy bear with a soft heart. He gave me a job no one else would. I didn’t have a resume or any job experience.”
“Didn’t you have to have a Social Security Number and a driver’s license?”
“He paid me under the table. I think he knew I was on my last dollar, with no gas in my car and no food. I had just enough cash for my apartment deposit and first month’s rent—which is more than a lot of homeless people have. If he hadn’t given me the job, I would have had to beg for food and join the ranks of the homeless.”
“Or go home,” Moe said.
Breely’s jaw hardened as she stared at the road ahead. “Not an option. It took a lot for me to leave. I wasn’t going back until I went on my terms. For a visit. Not for good.”
Moe turned off the interstate and headed into downtown Denver.
Excitement rippled through Breely as she stared up at the tall buildings. Though it was night, people walked along the streets. Couples held hands, passing beneath the softly glowing streetlights.
Moe pulled up to the front of their hotel, shifted into park and got out.
A valet stepped off the curb. “Checking in?”
“Yes, sir,” Moe said.
The valet opened the passenger door and held it as Breely climbed out. Staring up at the marble columns and polished glass doors, she wished she was dressed more appropriately. The short denim skirt, midriff T-shirt advertising Tumbleweed Tavern and oversized puffy jacket didn’t seem appropriate for the posh hotel. She looked more like a hooker than someone the establishment would want staying the night in their building.
When Moe joined her on the curb, Breely leaned close to him. “I’m not dressed for this place.” She frowned. “And I doubt I have enough cash in my purse to stay a night here.”
“Let’s see what they have. If you need a bit more, I’ll loan you the amount.”
“I didn’t leave my parents’ home to rely on others to bail me out. Can you take me to a less expensive place?” She turned around in time to see the rental SUV being driven off by the valet. Her heart sank into her tennis shoes.
Moe hooked her arm. “Let’s see what they have. Then, if you still want to leave, I can get them to bring the car around.”
Too tired to argue, Breely let Moe escort her into the lobby, where they stood in a line of people checking in.
By the time the people in front of them made it to the reception desk, they were close enough to overhear the clerk say, “I’m sorry, sir, we’re fully booked. I’ve called around to some of the hotels close by, and they’re full as well. I even checked as far as the airport hotels. It’s a big night in Denver. Every hotel I’ve called is at capacity.”
The concierge stepped out from behind his desk and announced, “If you don’t have a reservation, we’re very sorry, but we don’t have any rooms left.”
“Not good.” Breely looked around the lobby as several couples behind them left, grumbling. “Do you think they would frown if I slept on a couch in the lobby?”
“You’re not sleeping in the lobby,” he said, his voice a deep rumble.
“How about I sneak down to the garage and sleep in the back seat of the rental car?” She gave him a weak grin.
“It’s supposed to get chilly tonight.” He shook his head. “No. Let me get checked in, and we can come up with a plan.”
The clerk gave a relieved sigh when Moe told him he had a reservation. Two minutes later, he had key cards in hand, a spare toiletries kit, and they were on their way up the elevator to the eleventh floor.
Tired, disheartened and sad that her first night in a city was going to be filled with trying to find cheap accommodations, Breely leaned against the wall while Moe touched the key card to the lock on the door. “I’ll wait out here while you drop your backpack.”
“I’m not leaving you out in the hall. You can wait inside.” He pushed the door open and held it wide for her to enter ahead of him.
Breely met his gaze. “You do realize I’ve only known you for a few hours. It seems a stretch to walk into a hotel room with a stranger. How do I know you aren’t going to take advantage of me?”
