Page 19 of Playing for Possession
“No problem. Thank you for having me. It was an honor.”
The concierge ushered us through the lobby.
Joanie leaned close. Her whisper was tinged with faint surprise. “I think you made their day.”
“It was a few photos.”
“I know, but you didn’t have to do that. It was very... nice of you.”
Why was that so unexpected? Joanie didn’t think I was capable of being nice? A little thorn of discontent lodged inside me. We whisked past the concierge desk, where Carolina, the mother of the bride, stood with a troubled expression. The receptionist’s fingers danced across the keyboard. Carolina burst into tears. She shook as she swiped her cheeks.
Joanie paused. “What’s going on?”
I did my best to translate Carolina’s breathless, quavering Spanish. “That woman is the mother of the bride. She’s supposed to be staying here, but the receptionist says the hotel is fully booked.”
“That’s not right. This poor woman.” Sympathy rose in Joanie’s eyes. “She shouldn’t be crying at her daughter’s wedding. I wonder if we can help.”
The concierge paused by the elevator and waved us over. Before I could stop her, Joanie streamed off to the reception desk. I held back. I’d already spent hours signing napkins, making small talk, and posing for photos. If I got caught in the party again, I didn’t know how I’d extract myself a second time. Joanie put her arm around Carolina, comforting her while she spoke with the receptionist. When she returned, she wore an odd, sheepish expression.
“There’s been a problem with the bookings. Some of the wedding guests have been left without rooms,” she said.
Tough break. That was bad for the wedding party, but the hotel had fucked up and would have to accommodate them.
“That’s a shame.” I pushed the button to summon the elevator.
Joanie toed at the floor with her trainer, making the marble squeak. “I told Carolina we had a room for her.”
“You gave her your room?”
She flashed a nervous smile. “Yours, actually. You had the presidential suite. It’s the best room in the hotel.”
What the fuck?Where was I supposed to sleep? “You gave her my room?”
“I couldn’t stand to see that poor woman so upset.” Her guilty eyes locked with mine, and they pleaded forgiveness. “Are you mad? I didn’t think it was a big deal. You have my room, and I’ll find another hotel for the night.”
I glanced at the gigantic clock above the check-in desk. It was almost midnight. She’d be lucky to find another room at this time.
“You keep your room. I’ll find somewhere else.”
“No. This is my problem.” She peered out of the window into the darkness, then threw me an uncertain glance. “Unless we just make do with one room for tonight? You have the bed since I gave away yours. I’ll sleep on the couch. Tomorrow I’ll find a new hotel.”
It had been a long day of traveling. I just wanted to crash. But this was crossing a line. Mortimer wouldn’t be impressed with me sharing his daughter’s room, as innocent as it may be.
Joanie’s voice was tentative. “I’ll be fine on the couch. It’s not a big deal for one night, is it?”
No, not a big deal, but I couldn’t tell her why it was unacceptable. Then again, what did it matter? Mortimer wasn’t even here. The man was occupying too much of my headspace. Fuck him. I wasn’t breaking any rules. If word ever got back to him somehow, Joanie would tell him that it was all innocent. I’d actually enjoy being there when she did, just to see the look on his face. The fucker wouldn’t like it one bit. Good. If Mortimer insisted on casting himself as a deranged puppet master, then I’d at least enjoy tugging on the strings.
“Fine. As long as you’re comfortable sharing with me.” The sooner we got up there the better. My eyes burned with fatigue. “It’sall good. I can sleep anywhere... a couch... a bathtub. It doesn’t matter. Once I close my eyes, I’m out.”
Her smile relaxed slightly. “A bathtub?”
“Yep.”
Humor flickered in her gaze. “Fine. Let’s sort it out in the morning. Although I would recommend a couch over the bathtub.”
Chapter 9
Joanie
