by Melissa Hill
Once the truth came out there weren’t going to be any more of those.
Danny felt a sob start to well in his throat. Out of frustration. Out of confusion. Out of regret. Sitting here now, in the place that held so many memories of good times shared with Beth, he knew deep down that, despite his best attempts, their happy life was about to come to an end.
And he knew he wasn’t ready for that just yet.
Chapter 23
Waiting for the lift to reach the twenty-third floor was sheer agony for Beth. She didn’t know what she should be looking for, or what to expect, but then an errant thought crept into her mind and she remembered what she had contemplated earlier that day at work.
If Ryan was the one behind this, would he be waiting for her here?
Admittedly, her palms started to sweat at the thought. Especially as her circumstances, it seemed, had changed so much in the last half-hour. If Ryan was here, what would she do?
Was seeing Danny on the street like that a sign of sorts? Serendipity …
But no, it wasn’t as simple as that, she reminded herself. While she had immediately jumped to conclusions about what she’d seen on Park Avenue, was she one hundred and fifty per cent sure that Danny was actually cheating on her?
She wanted to say she felt sure, but that still didn’t give her the right to jump into Ryan’s arms, only to discover that she had jumped to incorrect conclusions about Danny.
‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ she said to herself with conviction – another one of her grandmother’s wise sayings – as the elevator car slowed, approaching her final destination. If Ryan was here it was still a no-go.
‘But first things first,’ she reminded herself anxiously. There was no point in worrying about what she would do if Ryan – or indeed anyone else – was here until she at least made some headway on this clue.
Beth pressed her lips together and wiped her hands on her sides. She didn’t necessarily understand why she was so nervous just then, she just knew that she felt some sort of trepidation, as though whatever she discovered would lead her to a tipping point of sorts.
She didn’t know what made her feel this way, but she suspected that she was very close to solving this entire mystery. It was as if her own inner movie soundtrack was bringing symphony music to a crescendo behind her.
A moment later, the lift dinged, signalling her arrival on the twenty-third floor. Beth felt a lump form in her throat and she realised that her stomach was jumping around out of sheer anxiety. It was a feeling akin to heading over the first, menacing hill on a roller coaster and she had to take a deep breath, if only to try to regulate her pulse and quell the excitement (panic?) that was building in her chest.
The doors opened, and Beth could have sworn that she was moving in slow motion. As the opening expanded to its limit, she stood for a moment, breathlessly looking at the scene in front of her – the twenty-third floor’s lobby – as if she was waiting for someone to jump out and yell, ‘Surprise!’
But instead, she was met with silence. Absolute, complete and mind-numbing silence.
The doors started to close, and Beth realised that she had to act. She could delay no longer. She threw a hand out and the doors parted again as the machine registered her movement.
This time, Beth got out without further ado. The lift doors closed behind her and it departed to find a new passenger. But what was she supposed to do now? What was she looking for?
Taking a few tentative steps forward, she peered around the area. In keeping with the rest of the hotel, the hallway was elegantly decorated, the carpet plush and spotlessly clean. But nothing looked out of the ordinary. Everything appeared normal. There wasn’t an object out of place.
Curiously, Beth looked back at the other lift, wondering if suddenly those doors would open and she would understand the hunt’s intent, and what she was doing here. But no, the other one stayed silent, closed. There was no secret to be had.
At least not in this area.
Beth began walking along the hallway to where the bedrooms were located, realizing that standing around like this definitely made her look suspicious. And she guessed that if anyone happened to see her – and deduce that she wasn’t a guest here – they would report her to security in less than a New York minute.
She straightened her posture and began walking with purpose. There was no reason to ‘creep’ around the hallways at the Waldorf – not unless she wanted to be escorted from the building. And that is something I definitely need to avoid, she thought, imagining the scene and how embarrassed she would feel if she had to face being ‘perp-walked’ out the front doors.
Beth wandered down the quiet hotel hallway, her steps barely making a sound against the plush carpeting. She passed each individual door, with the hotel’s signature carving above the room numbers, wondering who was staying in each room, contemplating if it was anyone famous or well-known – movie stars, maybe. So many had stayed here over the years she knew: Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Grace Kelly, Katharine Hepburn – pretty much all the greats of Hollywood’s Golden Age.
She paused a little, soaking in the building’s long and prestigious association with something so close to her heart. Whoever had organised for her to be here today would surely have known that, too; understood that someone like Beth would appreciate the weight of that history more than most.
At this, her mind wandered ever so slightly, but still she felt on high alert, focused on her quest, searching for a clue. Keeping an eye out for any type of indicator that would tell her she was on the right path.
But so far, there was nothing.
Beth made a complete sweep of the twenty-third floor, but when, a few minutes later, she returned to the bank of lifts, she was no further along in her quest.
She sat down for a moment in the regal-looking chair that was positioned across from them, waiting for a sign, for anything.
But nothing happened. It was so quiet Beth could have heard a pin drop.
She rubbed her temples, trying to regain some clarity, when just then she heard a noise in the hallway from whence she’d come. A door opened, and a moment later closed with a resounding thud. She looked up to see who would emerge from the hallway. No doubt it was someone leaving their room and heading for the lift.
However, thirty seconds passed and then a minute, and Beth was still alone. What’s more, the silence had returned and she couldn’t detect any footsteps or other sounds coming from the hallway. When she realized this, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Her inner tuition told her that something had just changed. That the game had begun. That she was meant to hear that door open and close.
It was a sign.
Beth stood up and headed back down the hallway. She turned left and found the corridor deserted, but she also knew without a doubt that this is where the noise had come from before.
Purposefully, she took off down the seemingly endless corridor, passing the doors to rooms on either side of her, knowing for sure that what she had heard came from further, deeper down the way.
As Beth neared the end of the corridor, she was faced with a set of double doors, the kind that usually signalled a suite. Even though she had passed this same location just minutes before, now she realised that something had changed, and she had no doubt that the door that she had just heard open and close had been this one.
Because on the floor, just outside the doors, lay a glove. A single, black cashmere glove.
She knew that this was no coincidence. This was serendipity. And she meant that in the truest sense of the word.
In the movie, Jonathan and Sara try to buy the same pair of gloves from Bloomingdale’s, and, a little while later at the Waldorf, they split the pair of gloves up, each taking one. The gloves were the central part of the fate aspect of the plot, in which they agree that if they can reunite the gloves, they are meant to be together.
But then at the hotel, they lose each other in the lifts, and do
n’t reunite (with each other, along with their singular glove) until the end.
What Beth was now looking at was the exact kind of black woollen glove, and even though it was highly likely that any random hotel resident could be wearing a pair of cashmere gloves in New York at this time of year, she knew in her heart and soul that this wasn’t dropped by accident. She bent down to pick it up and looked around. She was still alone. So there was only one thing left to do. She had to knock on the door.
Whoever had dropped this glove had wanted her to find it. They knew that she was here. And no doubt, further answers – or clues – were about to be revealed.
An inexplicable chill ran up Beth’s spine and her thoughts returned to Ryan. What if he was behind that door – in a suite in the Waldorf – arguably the most romantic movie-themed hotel in New York? What would she do then?
Beth didn’t know, but in true Hollywood movie heroine tradition, she was going to find out.
Taking a deep breath, she held up a hand and made a fist. Reaching forward, she knocked delicately on the door and returned her hand to her side. She heard the faintest sounds coming from the other side of the door. Someone was on their way to answer.
Beth swallowed hard once again and realised that her mouth was dry.
It was time for the big reveal.
Chapter 24
The moment the suite door opened, Beth knew that she didn’t have anything to fear, at least right then, from Ryan or indeed Billy.
Because the guy standing there was a complete stranger.
He was an older, greying, but distinguished-looking man. He had on a deep navy suit – obviously well cut – and was adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt, as if he had just thrown his jacket on and was rushing out the door to go to a glittering event downstairs in the Grand Ballroom. She noticed immediately the large cufflinks – sapphires, she was sure.
In short, his whole demeanour told of wealth.
‘Yes?’ he said with a heavy accent that Beth guessed was Middle Eastern, or maybe Russian. ‘May I help you?’ Rather than look annoyed at the interruption, though, the man’s ice-blue eyes danced a little, as if he was intrigued by his visitor.
Beth swallowed hard as her heart jumped in her chest. It was only when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other that she realised she was staring at him with an open mouth, silent. Her brain was struggling to make sense of too many things at once. But one thing was for sure – she needed to say something.
‘Er, I’m sorry. But I was just passing,’ she lied, ‘and this glove was sitting outside your door. I thought that maybe you or someone from this room dropped it by accident.’ Beth felt proud of herself. Even with the mental conundrum she was currently facing, she was impressed that she had been able to come up with a semi-believable fib off the cuff like that.
However, instead of answering her, the man merely smiled at her, as if he was goading her, knowing full well that she was making up an excuse for knocking on his door.
‘A glove, you say, yes?’ he asked again, seemingly accentuating his accent.
‘This glove,’ Beth said, holding it up for him to see. ‘Right outside your door – here – on the floor.’ She pointed as if the man needed this sort of instruction to understand what she was talking about.
But maddeningly, he simply nodded and continued to smile, as if he was well aware of where she had found the glove. Probably because he put it there, Beth thought. She waited for him to answer her, but clearly the guy would have easily beaten her in a game of poker, because she folded first. ‘So, is this yours? Do you have the pair?’
The man smiled. ‘You are assuming there is a pair.’
Beth’s brow furrowed. Another riddle obviously. Of course there is a pair, like shoes, gloves always come in pairs. She shrugged. ‘Well, with all due respect, that’s the way gloves normally come.’
‘Hmm, yes. Well, I would agree. Gloves do usually come in pairs. However, I have no idea if in fact this glove has a match, as it is not mine.’
Beth’s was taken aback. If not his, then who did the glove belong to?
‘Then, perhaps whomever you are travelling with dropped it?’ Beth offered, attempting to peer around the man and see if anyone else was in the suite.
But he blocked her view. ‘I’m sorry, but my wife does not own this glove. She already has a pair; it’s cold outside, no?’
Beth felt as if this entire situation was turning into one big circus. What was this guy playing at? Clearly he was involved in this, and if he was anything like the others he was supposed to be helping her, moving her along to the next destination, the next stage in the hunt. So why did he continue blanking her and pretending not to know anything while looking at her like the cat that ate the canary?
Beth sighed. She was tired, it had been a horrible day, and she really thought that this was it – she was going to get somewhere at the Waldorf. Right then she was only seconds away from screaming out in frustration, but instead, she simply decided to call his bluff.
‘Right it’s cold outside. I know. December in New York can be like that. But look, you and I both know I was supposed to find this glove, OK? I heard your room door open and close from all the way down by the elevator. That’s where I was sitting. That’s why I’m at this hotel today in the first place. I have a five-dollar bill with the number twenty-three written on it and that’s how I knew I was supposed to be on this floor. And because of the book, too and—’
She stopped talking abruptly, primarily because she realised just how crazy she was beginning to sound. If by some chance this man wasn’t involved in this treasure hunt, then he was likely only seconds shy of calling hotel security on her. She shook her head. ‘Sorry about that. I have a tendency to ramble sometimes.’
The man’s face softened, the way someone would upon witnessing the precociousness of a small child. ‘It’s OK, I heard.’
Beth’s eyes narrowed and she immediately went straight back on high alert. So he was involved. Somehow. ‘What do you mean, you heard? From who—’
But the man cut her off. He was playing coy with her. And he wasn’t going to answer her either, that much she understood. ‘You know, I think your best bet would be to return that glove to hotel lost and found. That’s what I would do.’
Beth opened her mouth to speak when suddenly she heard a woman’s voice calling out from inside the suite. ‘Yuri? Who is at the door?’ The voice also held an accent, but one that was different from the man’s, and Beth leaned in to see if she could get a look at who was speaking. For some reason the voice seemed familiar. But maybe she was going crazy. God knew, after today she had every reason to be.
But the man, whose name it seemed was Yuri, immediately went on the defensive. Evidently he hadn’t counted on someone else interrupting their conversation. He took a sharp step back from the door, as if indicating the subject was now closed and their discussion over. Beth was sure that he was about to shut it in her face. ‘Lost and found. Try there. That’s what you should do,’ he reiterated as Beth continued to stand in place.
‘Lost and found?’ she repeated, trying to make the entire situation add up, especially when she was pretty sure she really did recognise the voice from inside. ‘But—’
‘OK. Good luck.’ And just as she’d anticipated, the door closed with a resounding thud, leaving her once again alone in the hallway, holding the stray glove.
She sighed, defeated afresh.
After considering her options, of which there were admittedly few, Beth decided her only hope was to follow the man’s – Yuri’s – directions, and head back down to the lobby. Did the Waldorf even have a lost and found department? And if so, just what was turned in? Diamonds, furs, tiaras? Or single black cashmere gloves, perhaps?
She shrugged in confusion, and pressed the button for the lift again. As she rode down she realised that the anxiety and anticipation that she had felt while riding up to the twenty-third floor had not yet left her. If anything, it was w
orse.
Beth didn’t feel any further along in the hunt, though she knew she must be somehow. The glove had been placed there on purpose – likely by the Russian man – and she was even beginning to believe that as much as the man had looked spooked when their conversation was close to being interrupted, she was supposed to have been privy to that. She was supposed to have witnessed it all.
The name Yuri, the woman he was with, the fact that he’d directed her to lost and found – these were all part of the riddle, and an answer to … something … was playing on the edge of her brain. Tempting her, cajoling her, teasing her; close – but still frustratingly out of reach.
Reaching the ground floor, she wandered back out into the main lobby, scanning the area and wondering what would constitute the Waldorf’s ‘lost and found’.
Spying the concierge desk behind a black marble monolith, she turned in that direction, all the while keeping her eyes peeled for anything or anyone who might be party to this whole thing, and associated with this clue.
Unfortunately, no one nearby was wearing a single black cashmere glove and waving at her with purpose, so by the time Beth reached the concierge station, she figured that turning in her findings was her only course of action.
She sighed heavily and thought about just how she was supposed to explain – to the Waldorf Astoria concierge, of all people – that actually no, she was not a guest here, she just happened to be cruising the hallways of the twenty-third floor and had found this single glove. Then she had been encouraged by a guest, whose name was Yuri and who had no doubt actually placed the glove outside his hotel suite door for her to find, to turn in said glove to the hotel lost and found.
And, oh yeah, on top of it all, I’m on a mysterious treasure hunt and do you happen to have my next clue for me, please? No, it’s not an episode of The Amazing Race, honestly. There are no cameras that I know of. I have no idea who is behind all of this and what it’s about. I just need help.
Beth rolled her eyes as she mentally ran through her spiel. They’re going to have me locked up, she thought.