Read Online Lost December by Richard Paul Evans - Free Book Online Page A

and it could be another week before the issue was resolved.
    The man at the hotel counter looked annoyed. “Is there a problem, sir?”
    “No,” I said. I signed the form.
    The bellmen took our bags up to our rooms, then we all met at the Carlton Bar on the main floor.
    “Our suite is beautiful,” Candace said. “We have a seaside view.”
    “Which suite are you in?” Lucy asked.
    “The Grace Kelly.”
    “We’re in the Cary Grant,” Lucy said. “They’re incredible.”
    “So are the prices,” I said, still reeling from sticker shock.
    “The price does include butler and maid service,” Marshall said. “You get what you pay for.”
    What I paid for
, I thought.
    “Did you see the people lined up outside the hotel?” Sean asked. “They stand there all day waiting to get a glimpse of celebrities. One woman asked me for my autograph.”
    “I don’t suppose you told them that you’re not a celebrity,” Candace said.
    “Why would I do that?” Sean said. “I’ll be meeting up with her later tonight.”
    Candace shook her head. “I saw a real celebrity,” she said.
    “Who?” Lucy asked.
    “Matt Damon.”
    “Damon! Where?” Lucy said, jumping up from her seat.
    “He’s gone,” Candace said. “He was just getting into a car as we were coming in.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “Because I know you. I didn’t want you to embarrass yourself. Or us.”
    As usual, Marshall just shook his head.
    “What’s that you’re drinking?” I asked Sean.
    “It’s a Lady Carlton cocktail. It’s named after an English woman who lived in this hotel for twenty-five years.”
    Twenty-five years at this rate, they should have named the entire hotel after her.

    We only stayed in Cannes for four nights, which, considering the cost, I was glad for. Sean still hadn’t gotten his credit card problem worked out, but he assured me daily that everything would soon be remedied.
    From Cannes we drove to Monte Carlo, where we stayed at the Hôtel de Paris, a legendary palace located on Monaco’s Place du Casino.
    Sean wanted to book the Churchill suite, the hotel’s most expensive room, which I vetoed. The junior suite with a casino view was already more than a thousand euros a night—still a bargain compared to our rooms in Cannes.
    Less than an hour after checking in, Sean paid me a visit. “Hey, can you spot Marshall and me five K?”
    “For?”
    “I’m going to play a little Chemin de Fer.”
    Candace was standing next to me, looking at Sean skeptically.
    He smiled. “Look, it’s a good deal for you,” he said. “IfI lose, I pay you back. If I win, I’ll split my winnings with you. How do you beat that?” Then he added. “Same goes for Marshall.”
    “What about Lucy?” Candace asked.
    “She’s staying in the room. She’s sick again.”
    “We’ll take her to dinner,” Candace said.
    “I doubt she’ll be up for it. She’s been tossing her cookies for the last half hour.”
    “Why isn’t Marshall staying with her?” Candace asked.
    Sean grinned. “Like that’s going to happen.”
    I took out my wallet and brought out a wad of bills. “I’ve got four thousand,” I said.
    “Four will do. Thanks, amigo.” He started to turn but stopped. “Wait, I’m going to need a little extra. The casino’s got a dress code and I didn’t bring a jacket. Maybe I should just take your credit card. There’s an Armani store a block from the hotel.”
    “You with my credit card,” I said. “I may be crazy, but I’m not dumb.”
    He waved me off. “Never mind. I’m sure they’ll have a jacket closet.”
    “Look,” I said, “you’re keeping a record of all this money, right?”
    He smiled. “I thought you were.”
    I raised my eyebrows.
    “Just kidding. Of course I am. We’ll be at the Casino de Monte Carlo if you decide to join us.”
    “Candace and I are staying in tonight.”
    “Good for you,” he said.
    He turned and walked out. I shut the door behind him.
    “You’ve got to