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“I’m trying to reach a guest,” I reply.

“Blaire Wilson. Could you call her suite and let her know Ross Kensington is downstairs?”

The woman types something into the computer. Her expression changes almost immediately.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she says. “Ms. Wilson checked out this morning.”

For a second, I’m sure I’ve misunderstood her.

“This morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

I look toward the elevators and then back at her.

“She wasn’t supposed to leave until tomorrow.”

The woman gives me the careful expression people use when they know they can’t tell you very much.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any information about her plans.”

“Did she leave forwarding details?”

“I can’t provide private guest information,” she says.

“I understand.”

I pause.

“Can you tell me whether transportation was arranged?”

She hesitates before answering.

“A car collected her this morning with her luggage,” she says.

“I believe it was for the airport, but I can’t confirm her destination.”

That is enough.

“Thank you,” I say.

I walk away from the desk and out through the hotel entrance. The air outside is cool enough to cut through my jacket, but I barely notice it.

She didn’t just want the conversation over—she wanted distance.

Enough of it that she left London before I could ask her to reconsider.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Blaire

Saturday afternoon finds me at home with Wells and Miles sprawled across the living room floor while Erica stands at the kitchen island cutting sandwiches in half for lunch.

Almost two weeks have passed since I came back from London. Long enough for the suitcases to be unpacked, the laundry to disappear back into drawers, and the boys to settle into the familiar rhythm of school, homework, soccer, chess, and whatever argument happens to matter most that particular day.

Not long enough for Ross to stop showing up in my head.

Wells is sitting cross-legged near the coffee table, completely absorbed in something he has built from a scattered collection of blocks and magnetic pieces. He studies it with his head tilted slightly to one side, then adjusts a piece with the same intense concentration Ross gives a contract he doesn’t like.