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She shrugged her shoulders with a quick lift and drop. “You don’t have to apologize for expressing your honest opinion, but you can bask in the knowledge that you’re running with someone with some different connections from your father—although you should never knock a free brewski.”
He squeezed her knee before releasing it. “How’d you get to be such a guy’s girl?”
“I’ll give credit to my father for that, too. He raised me to take over his business.”
“Not your brother?”
“I’m older.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “And more responsible. Dad groomed me to handle the family business, until...”
“Until what?”
“There’s the hotel. I’m going to swing around for the valet.”
Joe whistled through his teeth. “Nice. How the hell did Marten afford this, and why would he want to stay in that hovel with Joost when he had a room waiting for him here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe just to leave him that rusty old key to give me.” She pulled up to the curb and stepped out when the attendant opened her door.
“Good evening, Ms. Duvall.”
She peered at the valet’s name tag. “Hello, Henry. How are you doing tonight?”
“Just fine, ma’am. I’ll take good care of your car.”
“You’d better.” She winked at him. “It’s my father’s.”
Joe placed a hand on her back and steered her through the front door. Leaning his head toward hers, he said, “How is this going to go down? Are you just going to tell them you want to get into Marten’s room?”
“Pretty much.” Hailey squared her shoulders and marched up to reception. She may have learned at her father’s knee, but she could never master his full command over any and all situations. Hailey parked herself at the corner of the front desk while two clerks handled guests.
One of them looked up from her keyboard and smiled at Hailey. “I’ll be right with you, miss. If you need the concierge, the desk is behind you, to your left.”
Hailey opened her mouth to respond that she’d wait, but before she uttered one syllable, Timothy Tang, one of the night managers, came bustling from the back.
“Carmen, this is Ms. Duvall.”
Two red spots exploded on Carmen’s cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Duvall.”
Hailey waved her off. “Please. I wanted to speak to Mr. Tang, anyway.”
The manager walked to the front desk, straightening the collar of his impeccable jacket. “What can I help you with, Ms. Duvall?”
“A friend of mine, Marten de Becker, has a room here but got called away to a business meeting in Sacramento for a day or two. He asked me to get something from his room, and I was wondering if you could let me in.”
Mr. Tang’s eye twitched for just a second, and then he said, “Of course. Let me check Mr. de Becker’s room number.”
“Thank you so much.”
As Mr. Tang tapped on the keyboard, he asked, “Is everything going as planned for the gala? Gretchen has been working mostly with Josie, the event planner, but I’ve had an opportunity to make a few small contributions.”
“Gretchen is really happy with how everything is working out.” Hailey shot a glance at Joe, who was tapping his toe, arms crossed.
He said he wasn’t going to judge.
“How do you like being night manager, Mr. Tang? Are you interested in event planning?”
“Oh.” Mr. Tang met her gaze over the top of the monitor. “Josie is quite good at what she does, although I do like to chime in here and there—and I think she appreciates it.”
“I’m sure she does.”
“Seventh floor, room 728. That’s Mr. de Becker’s room.” Mr. Tang slid a key card across the counter, his hand covering it until the last minute when Hailey snatched it up. “You can just drop the key off in any key receptacle on your way out, Ms. Duvall.”
“I will do that. Thanks again, and I look forward to seeing you in a few nights.”
Mr. Tang nodded quickly and then turned on his heel and disappeared into the back.
Turning toward Joe, Hailey plunged her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her fingers tracing the edges of the key card. “That wasn’t bad.”
