Ethan carefully adjusted Lily’s weight on his shoulder. The little girl murmured something in her sleep, burying her face deeper into his neck.
“I understand you’re busy,” Ethan said. “But we’ve had a very long travel day. My daughter needs a bed. If you could look a little closer, I’d deeply appreciate it.”
Karla let out a sharp, barely audible laugh. “People always show up thinking that if they push hard enough, a luxury suite will just magically open up for them.”
Patricia didn’t correct her colleague. “You can try one of the budget inns closer to the highway,” she added dismissively. “You might have better luck there.”
Ethan looked at her with a calm that shouldn’t have been mistaken for weakness. It was total restraint. What neither woman knew was that he wasn’t just any guest.
The Grand Regent Hotel belonged to him.
It was one of seven flagship properties owned by the hospitality group Ethan had built from the ground up over eleven years—before Sarah got sick, before Lily learned to ask why Mommy couldn’t come back down from heaven.
