Wishing Well(78)

Flicking a disgusted glance at my hand, he stormed off, closing my office door behind him with considerable force. I dropped my weight into my seat and went about finishing up a few issues that needed my attention before shutting down for the night and heading to the basement. Sunset was in twenty minutes and I didn’t want to be late. This was as important to me as it was to Penelope.

Reaching the basement, I heard the standard tapping coming from the left. Assuming Maurice was busying himself with what he was learning about managing aspects of the hotel, I strolled down the hall expecting to find Penelope on the couch curled up with a book. Although I couldn’t mention Barron in front of Maurice, I had every intention of warning her when I next saw her alone. Unfortunately, when I entered the room, only Maurice was inside.

Concern was an icy finger scratching at my heart. “Where’s Penelope?”

Maurice’s eyes never left the screen of his computer. “She left a few hours after lunch to go up to her room and take a shower.”

My brow arched. “Why doesn’t she just shower down here?”

His eyes sparkled. “Because she never gets clean. I won’t let her.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Well, I’ll just go upstairs and bring her down. Sunset will be happening soon.”

I’d barely turned to leave before he answered, “She had to run errands before coming back. If she’s not down here on time, she’ll meet us by the employee door leading to the garden.”

By now, my pulse was absolutely jagged. “Then we should go.”

Perhaps it was a note in my tone that caused his eyes to dart up. “Sunset isn’t for another ten minutes.” Maurice’s shoulders went rigid, worry creasing his brow.

Purposely attempting to hide my own feelings, I smiled. “We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting. You know how Penelope can be.”

The expression on his face was love-struck. “Wonderful?”

“Let’s go, Maurice. This will be your first sunset in a long time. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

Watching him rise from his seat, I had to stop myself from rushing him along. My spine was prickling with anxiety, my thoughts racing to the conversation I’d just had with Barron. Telling myself there was no way his path could have crossed with Penelope’s, I walked with Maurice down the hall, taking a deep breath as I punched in the code that would take us to the lobby.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


The first indication that something was wrong was Penelope’s absence by the employee door leading into the garden. She had been so excited for this step in Maurice’s life, so adamant that I let it occur. She was his champion after falling for a man that was learning to love himself as much as he loved her. For Penelope not to be at the door with a selfless smile to give to him, together with her hand for him to hold, was the first warning I needed to turn around and take him back to the basement.

I wish I could say it was just me that tensed to see the hallway empty of her presence, but Maurice grew concerned as well, his eyes searching the distance looking for her. “Maybe she’s outside,” he posited, “I may have misheard her. I do that all the time.”

It was a momentary relief to think the two had simply miscommunicated, and I walked beside my brother through the door. The garden, like the hall, was silent, even as guests strolled by, their hands or arms locked together while they enjoyed the peaceful serenity of the garden I’d commissioned to remind me of home.

I should have turned around. I should have forced him back inside. But doing so would have only set him off. Now that Maurice was outside the confines of the basement beneath the hotel, there would be no stuffing him back in that cage until he had Penelope beside him.

“Maybe,” I said, “she’s just late. Anything could have held her up. We’ll continue walking until we find her.”

Nodding his head, Maurice tucked his hands inside his pockets, his shoulders folding in on themselves as self-conscious thoughts attacked his mind. Already he was assuming that Penelope had forgotten about him, that she was rejecting him by not being in the place where she’d promised to meet him.

If she was running late, I would be sure to tear her a new asshole when I had a moment to speak with her alone. This was a big step for Maurice, an important step, and she should have known better than to fuck it up. And even while my anger caused my teeth to clench together, there was still the concern that Penelope would have been on time if something hadn’t stopped her.

To say I wanted to run the perimeter of the garden to find her and drag her to us was an understatement, but with Maurice at my side, I had no choice. I had to walk calmly. Running would only cause him to panic. It would cause him to lash out.

“The well,” he finally breathed out. “I bet she’s there. She always talks about how much she loves it.”

“Does she?” I asked, making idle conversation, my eyes scanning every nook and cranny, seeking her out. “Why does she love it so much?”

“Because that’s where she met me.”

My mind returned to that night, to the fear I’d seen on Penelope’s face when I told her to be careful around Maurice. If only I’d known she’d be the catalyst for his change, I would have shoved her at him, chained her to his waist. As it was, Maurice had been the first to pursue her, the only one to love her, but Penelope wasn’t aware of that yet.