He seemed unsure whether to involve himself.
Margaret asked:
"Could you check again?"
Chloe's patience disappeared.
"Ma'am, I already told you."
"And yet Mr. Langford has a suite."
"He is a returning guest."
"That shouldn't create a room in a full hotel."
Christian's expression changed.
He knew she had a point.
Chloe lowered her voice.
"Please don't create a scene."
"I asked for a room."
"You are upsetting our guests."
Christian almost spoke.
Before he could, another voice came from behind reception.
"What's happening?"
Derek Cole emerged from the manager's office.
Margaret recognized him from his corporate photograph.
In person, he was broader.
Perfect haircut.
Gray suit.
Silver watch.
His expression carried the calm irritation of a man accustomed to being summoned only when someone else had failed to remove a problem.
Chloe pointed toward Margaret.
"She refuses to leave."
Margaret stared.
"I haven't been asked to leave."
Chloe ignored her.
"She says we're discriminating because Mr. Langford has his suite."
Derek looked at Margaret.
Not at her face.
At her coat.
Wet shoes.
Cane.
Bag.
Then the drops of water beneath her chair.
"What is this?"
Margaret stood straighter.
"I'd like a room."
Derek looked at the marble.
"You're dripping water everywhere."
"I arrived during a rainstorm."
"Obviously."
"I can pay."
Derek gave a small laugh.
Not friendly.
"Ma'am, the Aurelia is a luxury property."
"I know."
"Our clientele expects a certain environment."
"What environment would that be?"
Derek sighed.
"People like you don't belong here."
The lobby went still.
Christian Langford looked sharply at him.
Sam stopped beside the luggage cart.
Margaret felt an old anger rise.
Not because Derek had hurt her pride.
She had survived enough boardrooms to endure one arrogant hotel manager.
Because he said it easily.
Practiced.
People like you.
As if he had said it before.
Margaret asked quietly:
"People like me?"
Derek folded his arms.
"Let's not turn this into something it's not."
"I'd like you to explain what it is."
"You clearly wandered in because of the weather."
"I asked for a room."
"We reserve rooms for guests who can afford them."
Margaret looked toward the rate board.
The standard rooms started around three hundred dollars.
"How much?"
Derek glanced at Chloe.
Something passed between them.
Then he smiled.
"Tonight?"
"Eight thousand dollars."
Christian actually laughed in disbelief.
"Derek."
Derek did not look at him.
"Last-minute premium inventory."
Margaret knew the hotel's rate structure.
There was no eight-thousand-dollar standard room.
Even the presidential suite rarely exceeded four thousand except during major events.
Derek expected her to retreat.
She opened her handbag.
"Fine."
Chloe's eyes widened.
Margaret took out the audit payment card.
"I'll pay eight thousand."
Derek stared at the card.
"Where does someone like you get eight thousand dollars?"
There it was again.
Margaret looked at him.
"Does that affect the rate?"
Chloe whispered:
"Maybe she stole it."
Not quietly enough.
Sam turned.
"Chloe."
She ignored him.
Derek held out his hand.
"Identification."
Margaret gave him her driver's license.
He glanced at it quickly.