Page 34 of Lorenzo

“Hotels never sleep,” he confirms.

“I believe it.” I glance at my phone and let my expression shift into mild annoyance. “Speaking of people who take their time, I should probably go see what is keeping my friend.”

He smiles knowingly. “Might be wise.”

“I’ve given her enough grace for one afternoon.”

I take one last sip, set the glass down, and pull cash from my bag. I leave enough beneath it to make his eyebrows lift.

“That’s very generous,” he says.

“You made the wait entertaining.”

His smile widens. “Anytime.”

“I may hold you to that.”

I slide off the stool and pick up my bag.

“Good luck finding your friend,” he says.

“Thank you. At this point, I may need it.”

He laughs as I turn toward the elevators, and I can feel him watching me go without any reason to wonder why.

The room number Julian gave me is 1418. North side of the hotel.

I slow my walk enough to pull up behind a family of four as they approach the elevators. The father is juggling two suitcases while the mother keeps one child from wandering toward the fireplaces. I fall into step several feet behind them, phone to my ear.

The father presses the button, and the elevator doors open.

I move with the group.

The mother glances at me, then at the phone.

I give her a distracted smile and continue a conversation that does not exist.

“Yes, I’m coming up now.”

The doors close.

The father presses twelve.

I press fifteen.

No one questions it.

Money is useful. Looking as though you have money is sometimes nearly as effective.

The elevator rises.

At twelve, the family steps out. I wait until the doors close again before lowering my phone.

The fifteenth floor is quieter than the lobby, which both suits and doesn’t suit me.

A discreet plaque points left for rooms 1501 through 1512 and right for 1513 through 1526.

I turn right.