* * *
We drove down the street. As the wrought-iron fencing, lovely columns, and now-defunct lanterns came into sight, Kyle demanded from the backseat, “Why the hell are we here?”
“Method to the madness,” I contended. “Give me the benefit of the doubt and work with me.”
Amano pulled up to the security booth and lowered the window. “Hello, John.”
I stifled a sigh of relief. I’d hoped John would be at the gate, knowing it would make this much easier. Relatively speaking. Only gaining access to the drive into 10,000 Lux would be easy. The rest would be monumentally, excruciatingly difficult. Painful.
Amano gave a little song and dance about wanting to check on the property for purposes of comparisons related to insurance matters. John didn’t question the boss. He did make mention that he was glad to still have a job and that Amano had been right—it was a good idea to have the security gate manned to keep the lookie loos and media at bay.
As we rounded a grove of sycamores and entered the wasteland that was 10,000 Lux … I couldn’t breathe.
I wasn’t the only one.
“Jesus,” Kyle muttered. “Holy fucking shit.”
Amano parked the SUV where the valet area once existed. Right in front of the lobby of the Lux … that had once existed.
I stared up at the gaping hole. I’d seen something similar before—the whole world had. I was instantly reminded of the huge void in the Pentagon after a plane had struck it on 9/11.
It was the creepiest, eeriest, scariest damned thing just like the Pentagon. This massive destruction in the very center of a once-amazing hotel.
We were lucky at the Lux, however. No one died. That did not take away from the devastation we stared at.
I climbed out. Amano and Kyle followed.
“I don’t understand why you wanted to come here,” Kyle said.
“I just needed to see it,” I told him. My gaze didn’t waver. I took in the scene before me. Shattered glass, splinters and chunks of wood, exposed metal, mammoth pieces of jagged-edged stone and marble, wrought iron, scorched land … I shuddered. A lump of emotion swelled in my throat.
To the west was the wing that had housed the executive offices. The very end still stood—where Dane’s suite was, right by the stairwell.
My gaze shifted and fell closer to the destruction. Part of the gaping hole was my office. The beautiful one. So meticulously, thoughtfully decorated by Dane. The gorgeous space I had wanted my whole event-planning career and which I had loved fiercely.
It was now obliterated.
I thought of how wiping out brick and mortar, material possessions, and memories could shatter spirits as much as it could lives. So much so that it’d almost made me forget …
The beauty of this place.
The hard work we’d put into it.
The dream that had been Dane’s.
I let out a slow breath. Couldn’t pull in a full one. Tears crested the rims of my eyes.
I turned back to the SUV. What had been the point to coming here?
My hand lingered on the door handle of the passenger’s side. Something had compelled me. And I’d brought Amano and Kyle along with me.
Facing to the ash and burnt grounds again, I wondered what the hell would ever become of something once so painstakingly tended to, something so magnificently built.
“What are you thinking?” This from Kyle.
I slid a glance toward Amano. He gave me an empathetic look.
I asked him, “What will he do with this?”