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I frown at him. “Why?”
“I need more fuel if we’re going to crash a concert.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
EVA
When we reach Vienna, there’s a car waiting to take us to a boutique hotel not far from the venue. I follow our progress on Google Maps and click on the hotel—Hotel Schönes Wien. The listed nightly rate makes my jaw drop. Lina and I planned to stay in a hostel at a fraction of that cost, but Andi insisted our lodgings were her treat for letting her join us.
The car stops at an ornate building, dropping us in front of a line of closed umbrellas and covered tables. In the summer this is probably a hopping place, but at dusk with a faint dusting of snow on the ground, the street is deserted. Streetlamps cast a yellow glow on the tidy brick sidewalk, and we follow our driver through double doors into the grand lobby.
Andi thanks the driver when he deposits her suitcase beside her, then turns to the uniformed woman behind the desk. “I have a reservation. Andi Feltz.”
The woman consults a list on the desk—not a computer, but a hand-written list in an old, leather-bound book. “You have the Imperial Suite.” She takes a key—a heavy, old-fashioned key with a big red ball hanging from it—and places it on the counter. “Passports, please.”
We hand them over. I peer over the desk, wondering if she’s going to copy down the information by hand with a calligraphy brush on vellum, but she slides them through a scanner hidden beneath the countertop. “Four guests for two nights?” She stacks the documents together and hands them back to Andi. “Breakfast is included. I’ll have someone show you to your room.” She taps something—a hidden touch screen, perhaps—and the door behind her opens. A man in a matching uniform takes the key, then comes around the desk to heft Andi’s bag.
The rest of us—me, Lina, and Andi’s friend Celeste who joined us at the last minute—carry our own backpacks to the sleek elevator hidden around a corner from the grand staircase. We ride up in silence, exiting on the floor marked three.
A narrow hallway with a tasteful runner extends in both directions, and our guide leads us past four closed doors before stopping at the end. He unlocks the room, then stands aside to allow us to enter.
A crystal chandelier hangs from the high ceiling, casting a sepia-toned glow over the elegant room. A sofa with an ornately carved, curved wood frame and dark red upholstery sits along one wall, with a pair of deep armchairs flanking an elaborate white enameled fireplace on the other side. Heavy drapes cover the outer wall, and thick, patterned rugs in coordinating colors hide most of the golden herringbone floor.
Celeste crosses the room and pulls back the first set of curtains to reveal tall windows reflecting the light of the chandelier back at us. She opens one, and the sounds of traffic far below filter up through the early evening darkness. A wrought iron railing gives the appearance of a balcony—and probably prevents anyone from falling out.
Methodically, Celeste opens and closes each of the four tall windows, snapping the drapes shut after, then heads through a door on the left. Lights snap on, and after a few seconds, she returns and heads across to the other bedroom.
“What’s she doing?” I whisper to Lina.
Andi shrugs out of her wool coat and drops it across the arm of the sofa. It slides off the curve, but the belt catches on the carved edge of the back before it falls to the floor. She tosses her hat on top of the coat and runs a hand through her newly dyed hair. “Celeste works security at the palace. She can’t help doing all that.” She waves her free hand at the second room.
Celeste returns in time to hear the comment. “It’s my job. The place is clear. We’ll take this room.” She points to the door behind her, then grabs both her own backpack and Andi’s suitcase and disappears inside.
I raise a brow at Lina. “She seems fun.”
Andi rolls her eyes. “She’s not bad. Always working.” She fluffs her hair again, pulling a strand forward to examine in the soft light. “Mareike did an outstanding job, didn’t she?”
We both nod and exclaim. Half a dozen different shades of green are woven together through Andi’s hair. It’s fantastic waving around her face and will look spectacular when braided.
Andi reaches out and yanks my beanie off. “Yours looks amazing, too!” She grabs my shoulders and turns me so I can see my reflection in the oval mirror hanging above the sofa.
The hair on the crown of my head is now a dark gray, with silvery sections framing my face. When Andi pulls back the top, the bright blues and purples come into view again. The color really pops against the gray sections, and my brown roots are completely hidden. “She’s fabulous,” I agree.
Andi insisted Mareike do my hair while we waited for hers to process and then refused to let me pay for it. Which is probably a good thing since I’m pretty sure her bill would have wiped out my savings. Normally I can only afford my amazing colors because Tami uses me for practice and only charges me for the materials.
“Let’s get changed. The doors open in an hour, and there’s food available at the venue.” Andi saunters across the parlor toward the room she’s sharing with Celeste.
“Is concert food good here?” I put a hand to my growling stomach. We had snacks on the train, but the restaurant car was full when we found it. Andi tried to convince the maître d’ to bump us up the wait list, but he wasn’t impressed by our second-class tickets. “I’d like to get something other than neon orange nachos.”
“Neon orange?” Andi shudders. “Is that what they serve in the States? Don’t worry, there’s a lovely bistro attached to the Wernerhaus—we have a reservation for seven.”
“But the concert starts at seven thirty!” Lina wails. She didn’t know anything about K-pop when we met, but she’s all in now. “I don’t want to miss the beginning!”
“They’ve got an Austrian group doing the opening. BigRed. We won’t miss anything important. But we gotta get going!” She disappears into the bedroom and shuts the door.
Lina frowns at the big clock beside the fireplace. “It’s five forty-five. Will we have time?”
I shrug and sling my backpack onto my shoulder. “Plenty. I’m going to work on my paper—it’s due tomorrow.”
