He didn’t call Chantel on the way home. He returned a couple of business calls, texted his sister as soon as he was in the house. And then took a shower.
Twenty minutes later he was back out the door. She worked all day, she’d said. On her book, in her hotel room. But she had to break to eat, didn’t she? Maybe, if he got lucky, she’d be ready for a late lunch. If she’d already eaten, at least he could say hello. Apologize, again, for his abrupt departure the other night.
Who was he kidding? He wanted to look her in the eye and get the feeling he got every single time she looked back.
Pulling into the resort, he left his car with the valet and went straight for the front desk. He wouldn’t take up much of her time. Hell, he didn’t have but a few minutes to give. Just enough to solidify another date.
Another chance to be alone with her.
She hadn’t answered his text. If she wasn’t interested in pursuing time with him, he’d know the minute he saw her and leave her in peace—of that he was certain. He was enchanted by her. He wasn’t a stalker.
Rejection would be a new experience for him. Maybe one that he needed and should have had long ago.
Lord knew he was acting like a lovesick schoolboy. The whole thing would be humiliating except that for some god-awful reason she meant something to him. Enough that he was willing to face whatever came next.
“Can I help you, sir?” The black-suited gentleman behind the counter spoke in a way that instilled confidence.
“I’m here to see Chantel Johnson,” he said. “She doesn’t know I’m coming, and I was hoping you could ring her room for me.”
He could have called her cell phone, but the man behind the desk didn’t know that.
This was probably a bad idea. One of his worst. He should have just called, had a casual conversation, then determined from there if she had any interest in furthering their association.
At least he hadn’t come bearing flowers. Or chocolate...
“I’m sorry, sir, we have no Chantel Johnson staying here.”
On a good day, Colin didn’t have a lot of patience with inefficiency. With very little sleep and suffering from jet lag besides, he wasn’t on a good day. “Could you check again, please? I know she’s staying here. For an extended period,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I dropped her off here myself on Saturday night. Walked her in and watched her get on the elevator.” He spelled Chantel’s name. Just as he’d seen it on the email Leslie had sent out to the library committee. Leslie had been formally introducing her before the lunch on Saturday.
He waited, glancing over the counter to the keyboard to see that the man typed the name correctly.
He did.
Good. Any minute now...
“I’m sorry.” The man shook his head. “We have no one registered under that name. I can call a manager for you if you’d like.”
Colin shook his head. He wasn’t going to cause a scene. He’d just call her cell. “That’s not necessary, thank you,” he said, turning to leave.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he heard as he retreated, head held high. Until that point, he’d figured he’d left some dignity intact.
But no. It was pretty obvious that the front desk clerk at a hotel he could probably afford to purchase had just pitied him.
* * *
CHANTEL AND HER current partner, Daniel Lewis, a gray-haired twenty-year veteran, didn’t have a lot in common. They rode well together because they didn’t get into each other’s personal shit. Daniel, who’d acquired somewhat of a paunch, was the type of guy who went by the book, did his job well, but didn’t do anything he didn’t have to do. If the call didn’t come to him, he didn’t take it.
When it did, he was rock solid.
She could learn a thing or two from him, Wayne had said. Both good and bad. Monday’s shift—a four-to-midnight crossover—was more good than bad. They’d had a domestic-violence call that turned out to be a vindictive girlfriend who’d tried to get her man in trouble and had confessed to the childishness three minutes after Daniel had sat down with her in her living room. He’d been taking her report, had shown compassion and, after looking at the clean apartment, the worried-looking boyfriend and the girl’s unmarked skin, had gently explained to her how she could ruin someone’s life if she made reports that were untrue.
This opened the door for Chantel to make clear to her that when she cried wolf, she made it more difficult for true victims to get the help they deserved, as people were less likely to believe them.
As they were leaving, Daniel, in an aside to the boyfriend, suggested that he might want to move on down the road.