“That is usually not enough to destroy shoes.”
“They were already tired.”
Despite himself, Adrian almost smiled.
“What is your name?”
“Lily.”
“Lily what?”
“Lily Ellison.”
The surname struck a place in his memory, but so many years and so many names stood between him and whatever it meant that he could not reach it.
“Would you like something to eat?”
Lily looked toward his table.
“Is that allowed?”
“It is my hotel.”
“That doesn’t mean everything is allowed.”
This time Adrian did smile.
“You may sit at my table.”
The girl hesitated.
“Will the shiny people be angry?”
“The shiny people will survive.”
He offered his hand.
Lily looked at it as though examining a contract. Then she placed her small, cold fingers in his.
The photographers began taking pictures before they reached the ballroom.
Adrian ignored them.
He brought Lily to the empty chair beside him.
A waiter appeared immediately.
“Bring her soup, bread, pasta, and warm milk,” Adrian said. “Nothing too rich.”
Lily climbed onto the chair.
“Can I have the little potatoes?”
“Bring the little potatoes.”
“And carrots?”
“Carrots too.”
“Do they cost a lot?”
“Not enough for you to worry about.”
Lily folded her broken shoes beneath the chair. She held her hands in her lap and studied the plates, forks, and glasses surrounding her.
“Which fork do I use?”
“Whichever one works.”
A woman wearing emerald earrings laughed.
Adrian turned his head.
She stopped.
Lily leaned closer to him.
“Are all these people your friends?”
“Some are colleagues.”
“That means no?”
“It means the answer is complicated.”
“My mother says complicated is sometimes a polite word for no.”
“Your mother sounds observant.”
“She draws buildings.”
Adrian’s attention sharpened.
“What kind of buildings?”
“Buildings that breathe.”
Something moved beneath his ribs.
Before he could ask another question, the soup arrived.
Lily stared at the bowl.
“Is it hot?”
“Yes.”
“Can you wait until I finish?”
“Why?”
“People sometimes take food away when they think you’re done.”
“No one will take it.”
She did not lift the spoon.
Adrian understood.
“I’ll wait.”
Only then did Lily begin to eat.
She took small, disciplined bites at first. Then hunger overcame manners. She tore bread with both hands, dipped it into the soup, and closed her eyes as she swallowed.
Adrian felt the attention of the ballroom gathering around them.
Simone Krell appeared beside his chair.
Her silver dress was as controlled as her expression.
“Adrian, the Japanese delegation is waiting for you in the east salon.”
“They can wait.”
Simone looked at Lily.
“Who is this?”
“My dinner guest.”
“I see.”
Her tone said that she saw a problem.
Lily looked up.
“You have angry eyebrows.”
Simone blinked.
Adrian coughed into his hand to hide another smile.
“We need to speak privately,” Simone said.
“Later.”
“The announcement concerns tomorrow’s merger.”
“Then it will still concern it in twenty minutes.”
Simone’s gaze shifted to the photographers.
“This is becoming a spectacle.”
“A hungry child eating dinner should not qualify as a spectacle.”
“In your hotel, at your table, in front of the international press, everything qualifies.”
Lily pulled her bowl closer.
Simone noticed the hospital bracelet.
“Where is her guardian?”
“Security is looking for her mother.”
Simone lowered her voice.
“You should let the staff handle this.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because you are about to sign the largest hospitality acquisition in European history.”
“What does that have to do with feeding a child?”
“Nothing, until someone makes it something.”
Lily stopped eating.
Adrian saw fear return to her face.
“That is enough, Simone.”
Simone’s mouth tightened.
“As you wish.”
She walked away, already reaching for her phone.
Lily watched her go.
“She doesn’t like me.”
“She doesn’t like surprises.”
“Are you a surprise?”
“Not usually.”
Lily examined his face.
“You look different from the photograph.”
Adrian became very still.
“What photograph?”
“The one my mother keeps in the blue box.”
The sounds of the ballroom seemed to recede.
“What am I doing in the picture?”
“You’re sitting on the floor with papers everywhere. Mom is behind you, laughing. You have longer hair.”
Adrian could hear his own heartbeat.
There had been an apartment once.
A narrow place above a bakery.
Plans covering the floor.
A woman laughing because he had spilled coffee across a model they had spent six weeks building.
A woman named Mara.
Adrian looked carefully at Lily.
He saw the slight angle of her eyebrows.
The small notch in her left ear.
The way one corner of her mouth rose before the other.
Features could deceive. Memory could invent patterns when fear demanded them.