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“Yes?”
Andrej frowns like he’s not sure about his next words. “A woman checked in earlier today.”
“Oh?”
“She’s from the Exciteur team, sir. The ones you’re working with for the potential expansion.” He shrugs. “Sorry, I heard Andrew talk about it.”
“That’s okay. What’s her name?”
“Sophia, sir. Sophia Bishop.”
My hand tightens around the doorframe. “Miss Bishopchecked into the Winter Hotel?”
“Yes.”
“What room?”
Andrej doesn’t look fazed by my question. It’s one of the many things he’s great at. He juggles the curveballs of hospitality like he was born to it. The hotel could be on fire, and I know he would call the fire department in a calm, orderly fashion before beginning the evacuation protocols.
“1402,” he says. “Standard double, ensuite, courtyard view.”
She’s in one of our cheapest rooms. It’s still good. Solid standard. But…
“Is the penthouse suite booked tonight?”
Andrej doesn’t need to check his systems for that. The entire hotel staff knows whether or not the penthouse suite is occupied because if it is, it’s usually a guest of worldwide renown.
“No,” he says, “and not tomorrow night, either.”
“Upgrade her to the penthouse.”
His eyes widen. There’s a pause before he answers. “Yes, sir. Right away. I’ll send someone to her room to—”
“I’m on it.” I reach for a key card and code it to the penthouse suite. “It’s cleaned?”
“Of course, sir.”
I take the elevator to the fourteenth floor. It’s intrusive, what I’m doing. I know that. And yet, the idea has taken too firm of a hold in my mind to be shaken off.
I’ll atone for it in the morning. I walk down the corridor in search of 1402. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in this corridor; since I’ve been in any corridor apart from my own and the admin floor.
I give the door two sharp knocks. “Miss Bishop?”
There’s a shuffle inside, silence, and then her voice. “Yes? Is everything all right?”
“It’s Isaac Winter,” I say.
There’s absolute silence on the other side.
Then her voice comes, just a tad frantic. “Just one minute!”
“There’s no rush,” I add. “I know I’m bothering you. Just wanted to offer a complimentary—”
The door opens and there she is, standing in the hotel’s fluffy robe. Her hair is damp around her shoulders, and she’s wearing those glasses again.
Her skin looks clean and soft. “Hello,” she says.
“Hi.”
