Plus One

Chapter Eighteen

Sophie's second month with Ian was nearly up. After Barcelona, they'd be finished and she would go back to real life, which had been good enough before but would now pale in comparison, especially now that Troy and Thomas were deeply in love: they were already talking about marriage. She couldn't help but think that these two months with Ian were setting her up for a lifetime of disappointment.

Sophie lay curled on the bed in business class and tried not to think about the Atlantic Ocean under the plane. True to his word, Ian had given her two Xanax, but it only seemed to take the edge off her fear, nor eradicate it. He lay in his own bed behind her and the only reason she knew he wasn't sleeping was because of the small reading light that was on. The rest of the first class cabin was dark.

She'd fully expected Ian to go to Spain without her and was surprised when he'd handed her the ticket. She knew he was seeing Elise Warner, flying back and forth from LA to New York, and had expected that she would be his plus one. But for some reason, Ian still wanted Sophie to go. Now she was stuck on this god-awful plane with nowhere to hide. She closed her eyes and refused to cry herself to sleep. She heard some rustling behind her and then Ian was poking his head over the bed, looking down at her.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle.

She managed a nod. "Yep. Okay."

He frowned. "I don't believe you."

"I'll be fine. I mean I am fine, don't worry about me. But, thank you. The Xanax is helping."

"Okay."

Then he was gone, back in his seat. A few hours later, they landed.

The Tate hotel was a few blocks from Las Ramblas, a pedestrian street filled with shops, restaurants, and street performers. Designed by the famed architect, Davi Singh, the building was the very height of modernity. The entire outside was covered in panels of titanium, putting to mind the famous architect, Frank Gehry. It was a collection of swirls and curves, a falling ribbon, water frozen in motion. The way music felt.

The building was a song.

"Oh my god," Sophie said, staring at the hotel. It was the most beautiful building she'd ever seen. The most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She wordlessly reached for her camera.

"I thought you might like it," Ian said quietly. She'd forgotten he was there.

"Like it? I love it," she said. "It's fucking brilliant."

"I chose him," Ian said. "Samuel wanted a classical building but I fought and I got him."

She smiled at him, forgetting for a moment that things had changed between them.

"Of course you did," she said. Her eyes held his for a moment, then she looked away.

"Come on," he said, "I'll show you the inside."

The layout was unique, with the registration desk an island in the center of the lobby. Directly to the left was a garden with chairs that looked like bean bags but were obviously much fancier. A low, pulsing beat was piped in through the sound system. It was a sexy hotel, enticing. Much like Ian himself. She could see his stamp all over it.

"It's wonderful," she said, when he looked at her, waiting. "You know it is."

Sophie was put in a room a few doors down from Ian's. The room was in shades of cream and orange with glossy fashion photography on the walls. There was a small welcome basket for her with snacks, flowers, and liquor. She didn't know if Ian had requested that or if it was in all the rooms.