Read Online McGrave's Hotel by Steve Bryant - Free Book Online Page A

beet salad with goat cheese, apples, and walnuts.
    “Only a salad?” James said.
    “I’m watching my figure,” Fawn said. “Well, I don’t have a figure yet, but some day.”
    James could have shown off his knowledge of French cuisine, as he knew the menu inside out. Indeed, thanks to his early training in rapid memorization, he had learned it by heart at first glance, and over the course of the year had sampled most of its exotic delicacies. Nevertheless, he chose an all-American-boy order of a cheeseburger, French fries, and a milk shake. He didn’t want to seem pretentious. Besides, he loved cheeseburgers.
    Before he moved on, Maurice looked through the napkins on his tray as if expecting to find something written on them. “Oh, sorry, Master James. No messages.”
    “What was that about?” Fawn said as the waiter receded.
    James could have brushed the question aside, but he liked this girl and did not wish to keep secrets from her, even very personal ones. He openly confessed his hope that his parents had left him a message before they died.
    “My family was very keen on keeping each other informed,” he said. “We left notes everywhere in case any of us had to contact the other in an emergency, or in case one of us got into trouble. It’s basic spy craft. If nothing else, I think they would have wanted to say good-bye. We didn’t know it was the last time we would see each other. Things needed to be said.”
    Fawn regarded him.
    “I’m sorry about your mom and dad,” she said. “I’m sorry anyone dies. My dad doesn’t, you know, kill people. He simply wouldn’t. He’s more of an escort. He helps them get to their next destination.”
    “Where is that?”
    “Goodness, who knows? It probably has to do with ancient religious beliefs and modern physics and good and evil and afterlife population control and whatever. I’ve no idea. Dad and I never discuss it. Some people, it appears, never seem to go anywhere.”
    She nodded toward the dance floor. The ghostly Beaumonts were dancing cheek to cheek, very lovey-dovey. Count Otis Monroe was singing “I Only Have Eyes for You.”
    “Our favorite couple,” James said. “They give the room a cachet. That’s what Chef Anatole always says.”
    Maurice arrived with the food, and the two diners poked at it distractedly. They discovered a shared fondness for movies.
    “The theaters are dark,” the girl said. “Dad and I can slip in unnoticed.”
    “I go on Saturday afternoons with Mr. Nash,” James said. “Or sometimes with Miss Charles. She’s the fortune teller.”
    “Is that her over there at that table? I’ve been watching her. I hope I grow up that pretty.”
    James followed Fawn’s gaze. From across the room, Miss Charles caught his eye as he did so, and she seemed to be flashing a card at him. He blushed, being quite certain that the tarot card she was holding up was The Lovers. That was all he needed—teasing. James and Fawn, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
    “Do you like Shirley Temple?” he asked suddenly. The child movie star was the current Big Thing in the movie world, despite James’s low opinion of her. They had even given her an Academy Award. Still, it was a handy change of subject.
    “Oooh, no!” Fawn shrieked. “Ick. Don’t tell me you do!”
    “Oh, please. Have you ever heard a song as sappy as ‘On the Good Ship Lollipop’?”
    “Then there’s those ringlets!”
    Fawn reached across the table and helped herself to James’s fries.
    “So, why?” James asked. That he could be sitting here with the exquisite daughter of the most dangerous father in history perplexed him.
    “Why what?”
    “Why this? Why did you ask me to dinner?”
    She smiled and shrugged her slim shoulders.
    “I guess I like a boy in uniform,” she said.
    “There will be a lot of boys in uniform if this war happens,” said James. “It’s all anyone around here is talking about. The Germans seem to be itching for a fight.”
    “I