The Sapphire Brooch Katherine Logan (best beach reads TXT) 📖

tough for her, which was why she was always on call Christmas Day.

A doorman at the Willard opened Charlotte’s door. “Happy holiday, Doctor Mallory. Are you checking in or going to lunch?”

“We’re checking in today, Gregory.” She wouldn’t have been able to call him by name if he hadn’t been wearing a nametag, although she and Jack stayed at the hotel so often the staff remembered them. “I’ll need the trunks brought to our suite.”

The doorman smiled and signaled for a bellhop.

“Leave the car here,” Jack told him. “I’ll check in and then come back for it.”

He tipped the doorman then escorted Charlotte toward the entrance. As soon as they entered the lobby, Charlotte stopped short, taking in the breathtaking beauty of the antiques, marble columns, frescoes, chandeliers, poinsettias, and a floor-to-ceiling Christmas tree. Jack placed his hand in the center of her back and pressed her forward.

“Stop gawking. This isn’t your first visit.”

She sighed. “I know, but it still takes my breath away.”

“So does the Grand Canyon.”

“You’re so unromantic. No wonder your little black book has only a few entries.”

He cocked one brow in disbelief. “I love violins and candlelit dinners, and for your information, I have a full book.”

“Ha. According to MacKlenna Farm’s website, Stormy has a full book. You have CliffsNotes. And those candlelit dinners are followed by football or basketball games on TV.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Ginny loved to watch football and basketball games with me.”

Charlotte dismissed his ploy with a wave of her hand. “She worked for CNN Sports, and you only dated her for a couple of months. Her travel schedule was worse than yours.”

“Your love life is worse than mine, so stop picking on me.”

They reached the registration desk and checked into their suite.

“Here’s your key. I’m going to go put the car in the parking space I rented. When I get back, we’ll have lunch and go over our list one more time.”

“Do you want me to make dinner reservations?”

“I’m having dinner with my agent. You’re welcome to go, though.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m going to enjoy room service and a long, luxurious bath, since it’s likely to be a while before I enjoy either one again.”

Charlotte watched her brother saunter away, wondering for the hundredth time or more why he sabotaged relationships. He refused to go to counseling, and every time she brought up the subject of their parents’ deaths, he shut down. She wasn’t forthcoming either, but at least she had given counseling a try. What the heck. They were probably stuck, going through life together forever, two people riding a tandem bicycle, trying to go in different directions, and too damn stubborn to let anyone else take the lead.

32

Washington, D.C.—Present Day

At seven o’clock the next morning, Charlotte swished through the hotel lobby in a deeply pleated, silk-satin Civil War-era walking dress in a blue and black checkered pattern, and carrying a long blue winter cloak over her arm. Jack had told her to meet him at the Christmas tree, but he wasn’t there, so she tapped her foot, turned up her nose, and channeled Scarlett O’Hara. “Fiddle-dee-dee. War, war, war; this war talk’s spoiling all the fun at every party this spring. I get so bored I could scream.”

Several early-morning risers had snapped her picture using their smartphones. She smiled sweetly and threw in more fiddle-dee-dees as she turned this way and that for them. Wearing such an elaborate costume freed the little girl inside her to enjoy a flight of fantasy. She went a bit overboard with her channeling, but what the heck. The fun would end when she left the building.

“There you are,” Jack said.

She blinked, and her mouth dropped open. The shock wore off and she shut her mouth, shaking her head. “Damn. You look good.” She straightened his cravat and hand-pressed the shoulders of his frock coat. “The silk striped vest is a nice touch. I like it. Very handsome.”

He stood tall and easy and smiled down at her. He did indeed look every bit the gentleman he purported to be. The young women in Washington were in for a treat.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I should ask you the same thing. I already know how dangerous it is.”

His face telegraphed his brotherly concern. “Do you want to change your mind?”

She shook her head and took a calming breath. “I don’t want to go. Other than witnessing history, there is nothing enticing, entertaining, or healthy about what we’re about to do. But it’s necessary. Regardless of how I feel about it, I have to go.”

“The bellhop is taking our trunks to the corner.”

She scrunched her face. “Is it a good idea to disappear in plain sight?”

“Do you want to duck into a phone booth instead?”

She smirked. “You’re the writer.”

“I know, which is why I picked seven o’clock to disappear. The street is empty. And it’s cold outside and barely daylight. If you’ll stop lollygagging, we’ll get out of here.”

She swooshed around his legs and stomped toward the door.

Jack chuckled close behind her.

A moment of levity before they spiraled into danger.

She stopped and dug in her heels. “But I don’t want to go.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll be safe. I promise. Now, let’s get the flock out of here.”

She supposed he meant to comfort her, but his words were like Band-Aids on an open-heart incision, and did nothing to assuage the fear churning in her belly. A strange breeze slithered by her, sounding like whispers of secrets. She shook it off, or tried to.

Their bellhop hovered at the corner of Fifteenth and E Street, guarding their trunks. Jack tipped the young man, but he didn’t want to leave them until their transportation arrived. Jack assured him a bus would be by to pick them up in a matter of minutes, and they wouldn’t need his assistance to get the trunks on board. The bellhop left, but kept looking back. Finally, Jack scooted them next to the side