We have a reservation in the Moonside Room, Nat said, interrupting my musings.
I forced myself to break the gaze.
And I was absurdly proud of breaking off the look first this time. I found myself smiling in satisfaction. I had to resist the urge to check shaggy-neat-hair guys reaction to my shift in attention.
I can have your drink brought up to the restaurant for you, the bartender said to Brooklyn.
No mention of my drink, or Sophies. But then that was the way of the world.
Thank you so much. Brooklyn flashed her friendly blue eyes.
Not a problem.
I could tell the bartender thought he had a shotdespite the big diamond ring on Brooklyns left hand. She had a knack for thatfor doing nothing in a way that ever so subtly led men on.
Sophie was very pretty. Nat was girl-next-door cute. But none of us could hold a candle to Brooklyns allure. Men tripped over their own feet when she was in the room. She invariably got us great tables and great service from earnest waiters and maître ds.
Mostly I just took the perks without bothering to be jealous of Brooklyn.
Through the lobby? she asked the bartender.
Straight across to the gold elevator. It will take you to the fifty-eighth floor. Mandy can show you. He beckoned one of the waitresses.
Just in case we cant read the sign, Nat whispered to me.
Just in case he misunderstood the diamond ring, I whispered back.
Men have no consciences.
Luckily for James, Brooklyn does.
My best friend, and an only child with two distant, busy parents, Brooklyn had spent countless weekends and holidays with my big extended family. Shed had a crush on James since we were old enough to know what a crush was. Hed finally invited her to the junior prom, and thered been no going back.
Their relationship made such perfect sense for everyone, including me. Id been testing the term sister-in-law inside my head for months now. I couldnt wait to use it in real life.
As we walked to the elevator, I looked around for shaggy-neat-hair guy.
He wasnt in the bar, and he wasnt in the lobby.
Ah, well. There was always tomorrow.
The sauna and spa lounge were coed. He could be a spa guy.
Or maybe Id check out the exercise room. He definitely looked like the weight-training type. And I could see him on an elliptical machineor rowing.
I could definitely picture him rowing.
Two
I wasnt a morning person at the best of times.
It was doubly hard to wake up with the daylight filtered by an opaque blind, the air in the room cool on my face and cozy in a bed that was softer than a cloud.
Reluctantly giving up my state of sleep, I reached for the last wispy threads of my dream. Thered been a blue-eyed man on a surfboard off the beach of a tropical island. A dog was playing in the sand while the palm-frond room of a nearby hut rustled in the floral breeze.
Id felt safe and warm inside the hut, but I couldnt remember why. I struggled to find the details, but the synaptic connections evaporated, locking me out of my subconscious.
It was morning.
I opened my eyes to see the bathroom light on, the door partially closed.
I listened, hoping Brooklyn would be done soon so I could take a turn.
I looked to the bedside clock and found it was nearly nine.
Id slept a long time.
I was hungry.
As I waited for Brooklyn, I weighted the cost-benefit of eggs Benedict. It was my all-time favorite breakfast. But the béarnaise sauce meant extra crunches next week and maybe some extra laps in the pool.
My bridesmaid dress was exactly the right size, and too much indulgence this weekend would blow the lines. A custom-fit dress deserved the flattest stomach I could muster.
Still, one breakfast of eggs Benedicthow much would that hurt?
Brooklyn? I called out. Are you almost done?
My bladder capacity wasnt unlimited.
She didnt answer, and I got up out of bed.
Wed come back to the room together after dinner last night.
While we ate, shed been alternately chipper and chatty, and then suddenly lost in thought. She was the first of my close friends to get married, so I couldnt tell if this was normal. It could easily be normal, but something seemed off.
Id planned to talk to her once we got in bed. There was nothing like girl talk in the dark to get to the heart of a matter.
But Id gone out like a light while she was still in the bathroom.
Now, I found it empty.
I was both surprised and relieved. I wouldnt have to wait any longer, but I did wonder why she didnt wake me up for breakfast.
I hoped they all hadnt eaten without me. Id be more willing to dive into a plate of eggs Benedict if I had coconspirators in the indulgence. Hey, if the bride was going all out, I wasnt going to be a wet blanket.
I changed quickly, ignoring my makeup bag, and threw my hair into a ponytail. I climbed into a pair of jeans and a casual blue blouse along with a pair of ankle boots and some earrings. I was good enough for breakfast.
I headed for the Sunriser dining room on the main floor.
There I found Sophie and Nat. Like me, theyd decided it was a day to go for it with plates of gooey Belgian waffles and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
Wheres Brooklyn? I asked as I sat down on a cushioned seat at the table for four.
The room was West Coast elegant, with gleaming wood beams soaring above us and a high wall of windows looking onto the bay. Sunlight streamed in across leafy plants and navy-colored tablecloths, glinting off the glassware and silver.
We thought she was with you, Sophie said.
She wasnt in the room when I woke up.
The waitress offered me coffee, and I gratefully accepted, finding the cream in a little silver pitcher in the middle of the table.
Did you check the spa? Nat asked.
No. Dont you think its too early?
Shes probably working out, Nat said. Her wedding dress doesnt leave any room for error.
I found myself rethinking my eggs Benedict.
Nat cut into her waffle, releasing a wave of the delicious aroma.
Are you ready to order? the waitress asked me.
Eggs Benedict, my mouth said before my brain could mount a decent argument against it.
Once made, I was happy with the decision. I could work out at the hotel gym sometime today. It was going to be worth it.
The woman has willpower, Sophie said of Brooklyn.
I smiled at that as I sipped my sweetened coffee. It was true.
Thanks to Brooklyns insistence, we swam to the far floater and back every time we drank a milkshake at the Lake Washington Beach. I didnt gain an ounce over summer breaks. To this day, I used swimming to stay in shape.
I should thank her for that.
Id have plenty of time in the future.
She and James were shopping for houses in Wallingford. The area was close to my apartment in Fremont. After the wedding, wed be able to see each other even more often than we did now.
While I waited for my breakfast, I shot her a text.
At least we know shes not stuck in an elevator this time, Nat said.
Are we shopping this morning? Sophie asked.
Do you need something? I glanced at my phone, but there was no symbol to indicate Brooklyn was answering.
Clothes, Sophie said. Maybe some throw pillows or shelves. I could use some shelves for that little corner by the patio door. I bought those two blown-glass sculptures at the pier last month, and I have nowhere to put them.
I dont need anything, Nat said.
I respectfully disagree, Sophie said. Your studio needs a complete makeover.
Its functional, Nat said with a sniff.
Its criminal, Sophie said. All that glorious potential, and you havent done a thing with it.
I hung some pictures.
That I gave you. On hooks that were on the wall from the last tenant. The arrangement doesnt even make sense. Sophie turned to me. We should go on a shopping spree for Nats place.
We should probably ask Brooklyn, I said, thinking the weekend was supposed to be all about her. And Id make it all about her, too, if I could only track her down.
My eggs Benedict arrived, looking outstandingly delicious.
Brooklyn will go for it. She loves shopping, Sophie said.
I took a first bite. It was to die for.
Id be happy to shop or sightsee or hit the pool deck. Id even go for another massage. Id always go for another massage.
In that case, we can shop for Brooklyn, Nat said. I dont want to clutter my place up with knickknacks and dust collectors.
Another word for them is art. Sophie smirked as she went for her phone. If the bride says were redecorating your studio, were redecorating your studio.
Thats not how it works, Nat said.
Its exactly how it works. Sophie held her phone to her ear.
Im counting on you, Nat said to me. Talk some sense into her.
I cant see redecorating your apartment being Brooklyns first choice, I said honestly.
My money was on Fishermans Wharf or Golden Gate Park.
Shes not answering, Sophie said.
I hoped that meant Brooklyn was in a shower at the gym. She should really get over here and try some of these eggs.
What the heck? Sophie said, surprise in her tone.
I looked up.
She put her phone under my nose with a friend-finding app open. I squinted, but it was too close for me to see the little map.
When she spoke again, she sounded completely baffled. Whats Brooklyn doing back at the airport?
My first thought was Brooklyn had been kidnapped.
It was the only thing that made sense.
She had no reason to leave the hotel voluntarily. We had spa appointments, and there were Belgian waffles and hot chocolate on the menu. What more could a woman ask for?
I wanted to call the police right away, but Nat convinced me theyd need more evidence before they opened a missing-person case. Brooklyn was an adult, and she hadnt been gone very long by law-enforcement standards.
Nat was right.
I was letting emotion overrule reason. That wasnt like me at all.
Instead, we checked the hotel room and discovered Brooklyns suitcase was gone.
I took heart from that. I took that to mean shed left willingly. Our best guess was that thered been an emergency in the middle of the nightmaybe a medical emergency, presumably one of her family members, maybe her mom or dad.
If something had happened to James, they would definitely have called me, too. Still, it made no sense that she wouldnt wake me up. Id have gone with her.
While I was pondering the mystery, I came across her note.
I opened my mouth to alert Sophie and Nat. But then I read it and my heart sank to my toes.
I didnt say a thing. Instead, I hid the damning words in my jeans pocket.
Shes off-line, Sophie said, holding out her phone on the friend-finding app.
Brooklyns icon had disappeared.
Did she get on a plane to Seattle? Nat asked.
Possibly, I said.
Should we go after her? Sophie asked.
We should. We would. At least I would.
But I was going by myself. I didnt know much, but I knew Brooklyn hadnt gone back to Seattle.
We dont know for sure where she went, I said. Lets not all rush off. There, that sure sounded more like rational me.
It took me a few precious minutes, but I convinced Sophie and Nat to sit tight at the hotel, promising to track down Brooklyn and bring her back to San Francisco to finish off the weekend.
As I made my way to the airport, the note weighed heavy in my pocket.
Layla, it had said. Im more sorry than you can know. Ive tried so hard, but I cant marry James. Ive met my soul mate. Please forgive me.
Her soul mate? What was she talking about, her soul mate?
James was her soul mate. He was the love of her life. They were fantastic together.
Sitting on a hard, plastic chair in the airport, staring at the departure board, I hunted through my phone and looked up the airspeeds of commuter jets, considering the radius of the distance Brooklyn could have traveled by now, and mapping out the cities in the circle: Sacramento, Reno, Los Angeles.
I rehearsed the many ways I could talk some sense into her.
It had to be temporary insanitythe stress of a five-hundred-guest wedding, or her mother fussing over the dresses and the flowers and the dinner. Or maybe it was James wanting children right away.
I knew Brooklyn wanted to wait a couple of years before they had kids. I didnt think the disagreement had been a deal breaker. But what did I know?
I knew I was going to find out.
I knew that much.
I thought about phoning James. But I couldnt exactly call him out of the blue and ask about his future kids. Plus, hed want to talk to Brooklyn. Id have to say she wasnt with me.
Hed try to call her, and who knew where that would lead. Nowhere good, that was for sure.
The marker for Brooklyns phone suddenly appeared on my screen.
My heart jumped. Id found her!
She was in Las Vegas.
I was on my feet and heading for the bank of check-in counters while I scrolled to see which airline had the next flight to McCarran Airport.
A few more searches on my phone, a plane ride and an Uber ride later, and I was in the lobby of the Canterbury Sands Hotel.
Brooklyns phone told me she was here. Since I wasnt with NASA or the CIA, the accuracy of the app was spotty, and I couldnt pinpoint her, but she was definitely here somewhere.
I glanced around. The hotel lobby was posh luxury as far as the eye could see: marble columns, carved woodwork, potted palms, discrete lighting and leather armchairs set into corners and alcoves.
Since she wasnt conveniently hanging around in the lobby, I tried the front desk. Brooklyn wasnt registered. Or maybe she was registered, but the professional staff knew better than to reveal personal information about their guests.
I tried explaining I was Brooklyns maid of honor and we were getting ready for a wedding. But the female desk clerk seemed unimpressed.