Under the Stars

“Look, Jilly. Mount Rainier.” I tilt her little body so she can see out the window.

She’s busy sucking a clear blue pacifier, which Roland says will keep her ears from popping. How he knows this shit is beyond me, but I’m not in the mood for another crack about common sense.

We left New Orleans at eight a.m., but because of the time change it’s only eleven when we touch down. It’s noon by the time we arrive at the hotel.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The front desk attendant shakes his head, giving Roland a worried look. “You’re not on the guest list for Miss Hale’s room.”

“But… this is her husband and child.” He points to me, and I shift Jillian in my arms, going along with his half-truth.

The man smiles at us and does a little wave to the baby before turning back to Roland. “I’m sorry, I can’t give you a key to her room without her permission.”

His eyes light, and he pulls out his phone. “Do you have her phone number listed on her reservation?”

“Of course.”

“What if I call her, and she verbally agrees for you to give us a key?”

He frowns and looks down at the computer. “I suppose—”

Roland holds up a finger, and I see Evie’s picture appear on his phone face. He’s going to have Evie pretend to be Lara?

Catching his arm, I pull him to the side. “This is illegal. If she calls security, I can’t—”

“Trust me,” he says in a low voice.

Five minutes later, we’re in Roland’s private room waiting for maintenance to deliver a portable crib. The key to Lara’s room is in my pocket, and I slide my hands inside my blazer to remove my shoulder holster and gun.

“You’re trusting me with that?” He slants a smile at me, and I shake my head.

“I’m putting it in the safe.” I put the holster and my gun in the room safe and program it. Then I turn back. “I’ll leave Jilly with you for now.”

My insides twist with all the feelings I’ve battled for months. I’m not entirely sure what will happen when Lara and I see each other again, and it’s probably best the baby isn’t present.

“We’ll be here.”

Touching her back one last time, I’m amazed at how my baby girl’s mere presence, her warmth and adorable smiles, have managed to cool the burning anger in my chest. Roland’s descriptions of Lara’s tears and desire to protect my honor have further taken the edge off the betrayal I’ve felt since waking up alone in Nice…

But none of it unblocks my telephone number.

None of it puts me in the room when Jillian was born.

None of it restores my trust Lara won’t do it again.

The bitterness in my chest is smoldering, not extinguished, and I can’t deny my primitive need to take her by the arms and shake her until she tells me how she could do it. How she could walk away from everything we said, leaving me with only a note.

I’m not sure what it’ll take to make up for those wounds.

Her room is neat. Her suitcase is open and several outfits are draped over the edge. Toiletries are scattered across the bathroom, and a pair of heels is on the floor at the foot of her large bed.

She left the “Do not disturb” sign on the door, so housekeeping hasn’t made the bed, and the entire room smells of her soft, floral perfume. I go to the picture windows and look out at a white arched bridge with Mount Rainier a haze in the distance.

A sailboat slowly passes, and I’m still turning over these thoughts, battling the tension of my warring emotions, when the noise of the door card bleeps behind me.

Time is up.

She’s here.

Turning to face her, I almost lose the fight when she enters the room.