Chapter 16 Just the Two of Us

Another hotel, another bathroom shower. This time it was just an average hotel shower—no gold, and a curtain rather than a thick glass door.

Scarlett peeked out.

A woman screamed.

Scarlett screamed.

Nate shouted, "What the—?"

The shower curtain was ripped away, and they were confronted by an elderly woman in tweed, brandishing a samurai sword. Scarlett recognized her immediately as a member of the Gilbert and Sullivan Society—she'd seen her in the fretful crowd down in the lobby.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The lady wielded her sword in an awkward but not unthreatening manner. "And what have you done with my husband?!"

"Hey . . . everything is all right," Scarlett said as calmly as one can when on the wrong end of a samurai sword. "Madame, you saw me this morning, do you remember? When you were checking in?"

"Answer my questions!"

"Okay . . . I'm Scarlett Melrose, and my family runs this inn. This is Nate Williams. He owns the local hardware store, plus he's a part-time handyman and full-time pain in my backside."

"At your service," Nate offered.

The lady seemed to take only the tiniest comfort from this information, lowering her sword just slightly. "How did you end up in my shower?"

"Well, you've probably noticed that things are a bit complicated around town at the moment. We came through a portal from—you know what, that part doesn't matter. Anyway, it was purely accidental. We never meant to startle you."

"Did Bert go through a portal?"

"Bert?" Nate's forehead wrinkled.

"My husband Bert. He stepped into the bathroom earlier and disappeared. I've looked all over the inn. I can't find him anywhere. And now here you are. Did he go through a portal, do you think?"

Scarlett wasn't sure how to answer this in a way that would reduce the amount of sword-wielding. "Mmmm, perhaps? But if so, I'm sure he's fine."

"Ohhh yeah," Nate said. "Bert is completely fine at the bottom of a volcano or wherever he's ended up."

"What?!"

"He's kidding." Scarlett forced a laugh. "Such a kidder, our Nate—I mentioned how he was a pain in the backside, right? Now, erm, would you mind lowering your sword so we can exit this bathtub?"

Scarlett and Nate freed themselves from the clutches of Mrs. Bert and headed downstairs, only to find the lobby in an absolute uproar. Guests swarmed Delilah at the reception desk—making demands, asking questions, everyone in total panic. It seemed that Bert wasn't the only guest who'd gone missing.

"There you are!" Mama raced over to meet them at the bottom of the staircase. "What happened to you two?"

"Pro tip," Scarlett replied. "Don't use the walk-in. We ended up in the French Quarter."

"Oh for crying out loud." Mama sighed. "Well, I'll add that to our list of problems."

"What did we miss around here?"

"The doors . . ." Mama said despairingly.

"Really? Oh no. Nate, we missed the Doors."

He winked. "I've always been more of a Stones guy."

"Or the Who," suggested Scarlett.

"The Who?" Nate tilted his head in confusion. "Weren't they on second?"

"No, the Who was on first, What was on second, and I Don't Know was on third."

Mama sighed. "You two got into the champagne, didn't you?"

Scarlett and Nate made eye contact and giggled.

"Pull it together, both of you. As you two have already discovered, a number of doors have turned into portals overnight. Currently, Luna is on the hunt for the guests who've accidentally stepped through a portal and gotten lost. She's busy rescuing them; meanwhile, Delilah is managing their fretful companions. I need your help to prevent us from losing more guests."

"Sure, maybe there's a spell that could—"

"A spell?! Scarlett, we've got motorcycles turning into pigs and doors turning into portals. The last thing we need now is more magic. No, I have something far more traditional in mind. Nate, please fetch your toolbox and some fresh locks from down in the supply closet."

"Of course, Mrs. Melrose," Nate said.

"We've been over this. Call me Kelly."

"We have been over it," he allowed, "and I really can't."

***

Mama stalked along the second-floor corridor, and Scarlett and Nate had to jog to keep up.

"Mama, will you please slow down . . ."

They came to a halt in front of Room 205. She handed Scarlett the room key and gestured for her to open it. "Just peek. Don't step inside or I'll have to go looking for you."

Scarlett shrugged and took the key. She opened Room 205 and leaned in, keeping her grip on the doorknob.

Instead of a quaint hotel room, she found herself gazing at Stonehenge.

A young woman cowered on the grass nearby, terrified and lost. She yelped when she saw Scarlett appear. "Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?"

"You're all right." Scarlett reached out to take the woman's hand and pull her back. "C'mon back—no sense hanging around out here."

The young woman allowed Scarlett to lead her across the threshold. "Oh, thank you . . ." She looked equally relieved and shocked to find herself on the second floor of the inn. "I . . . but . . . where am I now? How did I get here? I don't know what happened!"

Mama patted her on the arm. "I believe your companion is downstairs, quite upset. Go let him know you're all right." As the woman hurried down the hall, Mama called after her, "Help yourself to some champagne."

Scarlett chuckled. "Champagne makes everything better, quoth Mama Melrose."

"My dear, when you find a situation that is not improved by champagne, please inform."

"AA meetings?"

"You know." Mama put an irritated hand on her hip. "You're quite flippant for someone who caused all this madness." She pressed a piece of paper into her daughter's hand. "This is the list of the problem doors we've discovered so far. Please change all these locks—I'll see to the guests and place them in new rooms while we sort this out. Oh, and be sure to keep straight which new key goes with which door, or you'll cause yet another catastrophe, and you've done quite enough for today." Mama gave her middle daughter a healthy dose of the Melrose Scowl, then turned on her heel and stalked back toward the stairwell.

The Scowl never failed to make Scarlett feel as though she'd been shrunk down to about two feet tall. In fact, this feeling was so powerful that when Scarlett turned to look at Nate, part of her felt shocked that she was still tall enough to look him in the eye.

"You gotta give her credit," Nate said. "When your mom takes a shot at somebody, she doesn't miss."

"Yeah . . ." Scarlett said. "Suppose I had it coming."

He frowned. "What are you talking about? Scar, this isn't on you."

"Of course it is! You saw what happened last night."

"No way. If anything, you're the wronged party here." He opened the door to Room 205 and stared unblinkingly at the green, green grass of Salisbury Plain. "Huh. Yeah, I can see how your mother doesn't want guests in here." He knelt down to study the interior lock plate in the door.

Scarlett leaned against the wall beside Nate, not gazing at his broad shoulders and definitely not picturing the strong back underneath his flannel shirt. "What do you mean, wronged party? Delilah and I did that spell to trap all the dragonflies, and her half worked, but mine didn't because I got distracted. If I'd done my job, then—"

"Look, I may have been a little tipsy earlier, but I meant what I said. Think about it: you've have been out of the magic game for ten years, and your sisters drag you out to the scene of a hugely traumatic event from your past. And they expect you to, what, just come roaring back like you're Glinda the Good Witch? I was there in the grove, don't forget. You tried to tell them it was a bad idea, and they wouldn't listen to you. I'm Team Scarlett on this one."

She blushed. "You're a team of one, I'm afraid. You're playing solitaire."

"Here, hold these for me." Nate held out his hand, cupping four screws he'd removed from the door. As he dropped them into Scarlett's hand, their fingers brushed against each other. Their eyes locked, and Scarlett's breath caught in her chest.

"I would hope," Nate said, "that you're on your own team, at least."

"Yeah." Scarlett's voice came out in a breathy way that embarrassed her. "I suppose I am."

"Okay, then." He smiled. "It's you and me."