He made no move to unchain it. Instead, he followed her in and walked with her past the Pringles, the empty steam trays, and giant stacks of cat food. This deli knew its people and kept a large selection of organic things in the back. They charged double for the convenience, but Mrs. Amberson never seemed to care.

Scarlett was feverishly working out a good-bye when they stepped outside, but he made no move for his scooter.

“I hope you don’t mind about this,” he said apologetically. “I just have this thing about girls walking alone in the city at night. I’d feel better if I could walk you back. I did promise your mother I’d make sure you were okay.”

He smiled, revealing that even he knew this was absurd. Still, no movement. He leaned over her, occasionally throwing his glance in the direction of the hotel.

“I guess we’ll be working together now,” he said.

“I guess so.”

“That’s great.”

Something was going on, but Scarlett had no idea what. Eric blinked a few times, looked around, leaned against the wall. He was close enough that she could smell him—he had the faint odor of the same heavy-duty detergent they used, and a little oil, probably from the scooter.

“I guess…” he said again, “I can see the door from here, so, yeah. Maybe I should get going. I’ll see you around?”

What was this? Offering to walk her a few feet—retracting the offer. If it was anyone else, Scarlett would have been annoyed.

“Guess I’ll go,” Scarlett said.

She walked back as slowly and evenly as she could. She was too terrified to turn around until she got to the door, but sure enough, he was still watching. He hadn’t even started unchaining. He gave a little wave.

This was very, very good.

THE GURU

There was a fervent knocking at the Orchid Suite door around five in the morning.

“What?” Lola groaned, putting the pillow over her head. “Make it stop. It has to be Spencer. Kill him.”

Scarlett dutifully rolled out of bed, tripping over her blanket, to kill her older brother as requested. She loved Spencer, but she saw Lola’s point in this case. But it wasn’t Spencer. It was Mrs. Amberson, dressed in a faintly see-through blue robe and not much else.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” she said.

Scarlett took a second to figure out what she herself was wearing. She looked down to find it was a stretched out T-shirt and a pair of underpants. She pulled the shirt down as much as she could with one hand.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

“I need you in forty-five minutes.”

“I…”

“Make it forty minutes. Do you have any matches?”

“No,” Scarlett said.

“Dammit.”

She shut the door herself. Lola looked over from her bed, her blonde hair tumbled over her face.

“She’s not going to do that a lot, is she?” she asked.

Scarlett half-blindly reached for her shower basket and towel and pulled on some shorts. Out in the hall, she bumped into Spencer, who was unused to seeing anyone floating around when he got up. He was leaning out of the bathroom door and brushing his teeth with a puzzled look on his face. He held up one finger to Scarlett, indicating she should wait. He stepped into the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste foam loudly.