Page 69 of Wrong For Me

There’s that sting again. “Right.” I gesture at the check-in line. “You want to go first?”

She frowns again. “How did you beat me here? Were we on the same flight?”

I snort. “Doubt it.” In order to bring my last-minute ticket into the realm of affordable, I’d had to get up at the butt crack of dawn to catch my flight. A flight which had stops in two different cities, making the two-hour trip take more than seven hours. “I had a layover.”

She makes a sympathetic face. “You must be even more tired than I am.”

I’m practically dead on my feet, but that hadn’t stopped me from wandering the resort, completely awed, for the last twenty minutes. I don’t tell her that. No reason for her to know that this is, by far, the nicest place I’ve ever stayed. Hell, it’s probably the nicest place I’ve ever even set foot. My mom and I stayed at some motels in our days on the road, but they’d never been anything like this.

The resort is sprawling with multiple bars, lounges, and restaurants. If someone had asked me to imagine a western mountain resort, I think this is exactly how I would have seen it—dark woods, stone walls, and bright open windows showing off the breathtaking view of mountains in the distance. It’s pretty damn stunning, and a far cry from the old Motel Six of my childhood.

When it’s Rose’s turn at the desk, I step back slightly to give her privacy. But I can still hear the clerk clear as day when she says “Yes, Miss Ransome, I have you booked for a double room. Is your traveling companion checking in now as well?”

Rose frowns. “My traveling companion?”

The clerk peers at her computer. “Yes. A Mr. Malone? I have him in the same room.”

We both freeze, staring at the clerk. Rose is the one to get her power of speech back first. “There must be some mix-up. I was booked into a single room?”

The woman’s shiny customer service smile never falters. “I’m sorry. Let me just check…” She clicks away at her computer while Rose sends me a worried glance over her shoulder. “Okay,” the clerk finally says, looking up. “There’s a notation here that a Dr. Hernandez called this morning to change her reservation to a Mr. Leo Malone.”

“That’s right,” I say, stepping forward.

The woman nods at me. “So we’ve added you to the reservation, Mr. Malone. How many keys will the two of you be needing?”

“Wait, wait,” Rose says, holding up a hand. “My reservation was separate from Dr. Hernandez. Leo should be taking over her room, not added to mine.”

The clerk’s customer service grin finally flattens a little. “I’m so sorry if there’s been a mix-up, but I don’t see another room listed for Dr. Hernandez or Mr. Malone. Both names are attached to your reservation, Miss Ransome.”

“What?” The pitch of Rose’s voice has gone up about seven degrees, making her sound squeaky and scared. “We’re not supposed to…I mean…Leo and I…we can’t.”

I place a hand on her arm, hoping to calm her. “Why don’t you let me handle this.”

She glares at me. “What, because I’m too emotional to do it? It’s my hotel room they’re trying to shove you into!”

The clerk is full on frowning now. “I’m so sorry,” she begins again, but Rose holds up a hand.

“Can you please see if there’s another room available?”

The clerk winces. “We’re all booked up for the conference.”

“This cannot be happening,” Rose mutters, closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I say to the clerk. “Is there a manager we can talk to?”

The clerk, looking relieved at the opportunity to dump our problems off onto her boss, scurries away. Rose has her phone out before the woman is even gone.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for another hotel for you!”

“Hang on.” I place my hand over her phone. “Why amIthe one switching hotels?”

“Because it’s my room!” she practically shouts, mindless of the people turning to look at us.

“Didn’t the university make the reservations?” I ask. She sputters incoherently and I grin. “Then it sounds to me like I have every bit as much a right to the room as you do. We both paid the same conference fee.”

“They cannot expect us to share a room!”