if I have a job waiting for me. I must have missed a half dozen shifts since…”
“Estella will understand.”
I shook my head. “Do you really think so?”
“I’ll talk to her for you,” she said, doling out an assortment of change from her pocketbook and setting it atop the bill. “Come down to the hotel with me. I’ll do the explaining.”
The radiator crackled and hissed in its usual fashion inside the servants’ quarters of the hotel. Linen rested in huge piles, waiting to be pressed. Estella sat at her old desk, just as she always did. And yet, everything seemed different. The axis of the world had shifted since Daniel’s disappearance, changing everything forever.
“Well, there you are,” Estella greeted me sarcastically.
Gwen jumped to my defense. “You won’t believe what she’s gone through, Estella,” she said. “Her son has been abducted. She’s been out searching for him day and night.”
Estella’s eyes narrowed, and I detected a flash of pity on her face. “Well,” she said, eyeing a piece of paper in front of her distractedly, “that is very sad.”
“So you’ll let her come back to work?” Gwen continued.
Estella sighed, folding the paper and tucking it into an envelope. “I wish I could,” she said. “But I’ve already hired another girl.”
“You what?” Gwen raged. “How could you? Look, this poor woman needs a job more than ever. She’s here to work even despite her missing son. Surely you have a place for her.”
Estella shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t. She didn’t show up for work, so I was forced to hire a replacement. No hard feelings.” She straightened the spectacles on her nose. “This discussion has ended. Gwen, the sixth-floor suite needs cleaning. Look smart about it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gwen grunted.
Together we walked out to the hallway. My head felt heavy. “Gwen, you did your best. I’ll be all right.”
“I’ll give you all my tip money,” she said, “until you can get back on your feet again.”
“You most certainly will not,” I said. “But that’s very kind of you anyway.”
She followed me out to the lobby. “How will you get by, then?”
“I’ll find a way,” I replied. “I always have. Now, you’d better get up to the sixth floor before Estella finds you.”
Gwen nodded. “All right. Take care of yourself, Vera.”
“I will.”
She disappeared into the corridor that led to the servants’ elevator, and I stood for a moment, stunned, unsure of where to go or what to do. I walked a few paces and then sat down in an overstuffed chair in the lobby, teal with white satin stripes. It felt good to rest in a seat designated for wealthy patrons of the hotel. My feet ached, and a large blister had formed near the hole in my shoe. I closed my eyes.
“Excuse me.” A voice interrupted my reverie. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I opened my eyes to find the front desk manager, an aging woman named Martha, standing before me. “You know as well as anyone that the lobby is only a place for guests of the Olympic.”
I nodded, rising to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I said, limping toward the door.
“She’s a guest,” a deep, male voice said from behind me.
I turned around to see Lon Edwards, the man I’d met in the penthouse suite last week. Today he was fully clothed.
“She’s my guest,” he said to Martha with authority.
Martha lowered her eyes in submission, ignoring the look of confusion on my face. “Why, yes, Mr. Edwards,” she said with a saccharine smile. “Of course.”
After Martha scurried back to the front desk, Lon smiled at me. “It’s Vera, right?”
“Yes,” I said. “It was awfully nice of you to do that for me, but I really didn’t need any help, Mr. Edwards.”
“Just the same,” he said, “I’d like to take you to dinner.”
I shook my head adamantly. “I can’t.”
“Oh, come now, Miss Ray, it’s only dinner,” he said playfully. “Surely I can find a way to talk you into it?” He snapped his fingers and a man about half his age and height approached.
“Yes, sir?” he said.
“Andrew, this is Miss Ray. Take her to the salon, and to Frederick and Nelson. See to it that she gets anything she wants.”
The man nodded. “Miss, when you’re ready, the car’s just outside.”
“No,” I said suddenly. “No. I can’t. I mean, it’s kind of you to take an interest in me, Lon—I mean, Mr. Edwards—but you don’t understand. It’s my son. My son has vanished. He’s been taken. I can’t have dinner