Page 11 of Tech Prince Troubles (Runaway Prince Hotel #6)

Chapter Eleven

ADRI

too bad humans can't send

I t took me longer than usual to update the log at the end of my shift—I couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. When I finished, Riley pinged me with a voice request. “Hey, Riley. Is something wrong?”

“You got five minutes? I could use an extra hand.”

“I was about to sign off and get coffee.” It had been a few days since I’d been to the café, since I’d seen Sam. I didn’t want him to think I was deliberately avoiding him. “But yes, I can spare five minutes.”

“Thanks, Adri. I’m in the ballroom.”

When was she not? “See you there.” I rose and told Jim, “I’m heading out now.”

All I got was a nod. Letting out a frustrated breath, I left the hub and went to find Riley.

Despite the recurring and increasingly erratic glitches, the ballroom looked wonderful, from the massive archways to the restored geometric wood paneling.

The flat screens decorating the walls were up—and working.

They could be hidden behind panels when not in use, but Layla wanted them visible during the masquerade ball.

In the middle of the room, the chandeliers—large Art Deco glass and brass—were on the floor. Riley stood bent over one of her chandeliers. I could only see her adaptations because I knew they were there. She’d done an excellent job. I hoped my phones would turn out the same.

“I’m here. What did you need me for?”

“Thank you. I mostly want a second pair of hands in case something goes wrong. If you could connect them to the system while I watch for issues, that would be great.” She pointed to a fire extinguisher. “I really hope I won’t need it, but better safe than sorry, right?”

I nodded, understanding her nervousness. While the tests with the replica had gone off without a hitch, the hub hadn’t suffered the issues the ballroom had.

“If it goes well, Fred and Ted promised to help me hang them. So, fingers crossed.”

I took the extension cords she’d connected to the chandeliers and dragged them to the main panel. “One by one?”

“Yeah, that would be best. I numbered them L1, L2, and L3 on the panel.”

I slid the panel open and connected the L1 extension cord to L1 on the panel.

“Oh. Wow. That’s even better than the replica.”

I turned, smiling at the awe in Riley’s voice. The light was warm and soft, reflecting geometric shapes on the surfaces. “Shall I connect the second one?”

“Yes.”

Nothing buzzed, sparked, or fizzled after I connected them.

“I can’t believe I did it.” Riley’s smile outshined her beautiful chandeliers as she stared at the reflections on the walls. “Thanks for helping me. I’d best let Fred and Ted know they can hang them. They should be here in half an hour or so.”

“Want me to order you a coffee? ”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

As I crossed the lobby, a group of humans of Asian descent dressed in green tunics passed me by, giant balls of swirling water hovering around them.

Taking a step back, Layla’s rule about stirring up trouble ran through my mind.

She wasn’t going to like this. I felt like holding my breath as they disappeared into the east wing.

The encounter left me a bit shaken, as if I wasn’t nervous enough on my way to the café.

I was still processing what Sam told me. Not just about his family, but about disclosing their dynamics to someone he was interested in. I still wasn’t sure if he meant he was interested in me.

Regardless, I needed time to figure out what to tell him. Even if I couldn’t reveal who I was, he at least deserved more from me than knowing I enjoyed drawing birds.

Disappearing the day after he’d told me about his family hadn’t been my best plan, but with my family pings doubling, I couldn’t postpone my visit to Langhide. I had to contact them from a safe place to avoid them figuring out I’d been misleading them.

A bigger mistake had been leaving immediately after my shift.

I could have made time to go in for an espresso before leaving.

It would have made the trip less draining, and the day more enjoyable.

But seeing Sam with so many questions tripping up my system would’ve made it much harder to face my mins.

The next day… those questions lingered, and I couldn’t make myself go in.

Then yesterday, the energy in the room I’d been working in had been too glitchy to top up.

Eager to finish, to rest, I’d ended up working too long.

Tired and empty as I felt, I hadn’t wanted to face a crowd, so I’d gone straight to my room.

But as I’ d sat there, on the floor, clasping the socket, I’d felt listless with guilt.

I couldn’t even focus on drawing birds once I’d replenished my energy.

I missed Sam’s espresso, but more than that, I missed him asking how my shift had been, missed his smile, and the way he interacted with guests, with the baristas.

Did Frank feel like this about Kaia? Was that why he talked about her like she was the source of his energy?

The thought had stuck in my brain as I’d stared at the trees; I missed Sam more than I did his coffee.

So, here I was, with a million questions and nerves raging through my system. There were five humans in front of me as I entered the café, and for a second, I considered turning around and going back to my room instead.

It was his voice—a beacon among murmuring humans—and the sound of the machines in the background that made me stay. Sam made me stay.

At least my family’s pings had slowed to a trickle after checking in with my mins during my visit to Langhide.

Especially after I promised to go to the United Regions Environmental Summit in Germany late August. Since I couldn’t claim complications with any of our projects—they knew there were none—I’d better solve these glitches by then.

My system stuttered at the thought of leaving. Of not coming back. It scared me more than the possibility of meeting more of Sam’s family. Five children. Quinn had been lovely and smart… and quiet. I had no illusions they would all be like that.

When it was finally my turn, I pushed down my nerves and smiled at Sam.

He stood behind the counter with his sleeves rolled up, but the smile he gave me lacked his usual brightness. “Good morning, Adri. Your usual?”

His words felt… cold, automatic, and I had to fight the instinct to leave. Of course, he thought I’d av oided him. And I couldn’t find the words to tell him it hadn’t been deliberate. “Yes. Thank you.”

Sam typed my order in and pushed the card reader toward me.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Then shook his head and stared past me. Time seemed to freeze as I paid for my coffee with a trembling hand.

I expected him to turn away when I was done, but he just stood there, gazing at nothing.

So, I waited, ignoring my frizzled system, trying to find the words to apologize, to explain, and willing him to look at me.

Too bad humans couldn’t send.

A barista whispered something to Sam. He nodded and straightened himself.

“Gandalf is in the middle of a cleaning cycle, so why don’t you find a seat, and I’ll bring your espresso when it’s done?

” His lackluster smile wavered when Gandalf gurgled happily behind him—the scent of espresso filling the air—but he didn’t move and refused to meet my eyes.

“I’m sorry, ” I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t get a word out.

My apology stuck in my throat, no matter how I swallowed.

So, I gave him a polite nod as I turned and walked to my corner booth, when my system screamed at me to just go.

Sam had obviously lied about the cleaning cycle, making it clear I’d angered him, insulted him.

Instead, I sat with a sigh and stared out of the window.

I was still staring out of the window—my system working overtime trying to solve the puzzle of Sam—when he slid onto the bench across from me and put two espressos on the table.

At least, he hadn’t sent someone else. But I didn’t understand why he was joining me.

I thought he was angry at me. Though, the way he gazed at me now, he seemed more concerned than angry, which only confused me more.

My hand shook as I pulled the cup closer and let out a slow breath, but it was hard to focus on the scent of my espresso with Sam following my every move. Was he waiting for me to say something? I swallowed. Perhaps now my voice would work.

“I’m sorry,” we both said simultaneously.

I winced at the whiny tone in my voice and clamped my mouth shut.

“I missed you,” Sam continued, his expression soft. “Look. I’m sorry what I said was too much for you. And I’m sorry if that was the reason you didn’t come in and get your espresso these past few mornings. I really missed you.”

“You’re not angry?” I might as well ask. How else was I supposed to know?

“Angry? At you? No.” He shook his head. “Hurt. Yes. And sad. But not angry.”

“Why were you sad?”

“That you stayed away because of what I told you.”

I gazed at my cup. “No. I needed time to process, but I didn’t mean to stay away so long. I had an appointment. And work… There were too many glitches. One after another.”

Sam winced. “That bad, huh?”

“I was foolish and worked too long. It was…” I swallowed. I like you . It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it.

He picked up his cup and inhaled the scent with a contented smile. “I know this is not the place, and I don’t have much time. Can we meet after my shift on Sunday? Tomorrow is my day off.”

He’d be spending the day with his family. I nodded.

“Good,” his smile widened. “Now let’s enjoy our espressos, and then I’ll have to get back to work.”

This was the first time we’d drunk espressos together. I couldn’t stop staring at him as I inhaled the dark, bitter scent of the coffee he prepared for me. “You’re really not angry?”

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m really not angry.”

The rising sun cast playful shadows across his face, making his smile seem twice as bright.

Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.