“No.
Lupita kept them safe.”
Lupita stood near the doorway with the bouquet.
Her expression softened.
“They’re right here.”
Lily looked at her, then at me.
“They look tired.”
“So do we,” I said.
That earned the smallest smile before her eyes closed again.
Lupita found a tall glass vase in the sitting room, filled it with water, and gently trimmed the damaged stems with a pair of service scissors.
She removed the worst outer petals without being asked.
Within minutes, the roses looked less like something crushed by travel and more like the flowers Lily and I had intended to bring home.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I lost my mother when I was young,” Lupita replied quietly.
“Small traditions can become very important.”
She turned to leave, but I stopped her.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Eleven years.”
“Have you ever applied for another position?”
A cautious look crossed her face.
“Twice.
Guest services and housekeeping supervisor.”
“What happened?”
“I was told I was more useful where I was.”
The words were neutral, but the hurt beneath them was not.
Before I could ask more, someone knocked on the suite door.
Lupita opened it.
The general manager, Richard Hale, entered wearing a dark suit and a gala badge.
He was followed by Patricia, whose face had lost all trace of its earlier certainty.
Richard had managed the Grand Regent for four years.
He knew me immediately.
“Mr.
Vance,” he said.
“I was not informed that you were arriving tonight.”
“That was intentional.”
His gaze moved to Lily sleeping in the bedroom, then to the roses in the vase.
“Patricia told me there was a reservation issue.”
“There was a service issue,” I said.
“The reservation was exactly where my office said it would be.”
Patricia stepped forward.
“I made an honest mistake.
The lobby was extremely busy, and he arrived without the appearance of a typical executive guest.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed.
She seemed to realize what she had said only after the words left her mouth.
“What does a typical executive guest look like?” I asked.
Patricia’s lips parted, but no answer came.
“A better jacket? No backpack? No sleeping child?”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“You recommended a highway motel before completing the search.
Karla suggested calling security.
Then you refused to contact your manager because I could not prove a reservation existed in a system you would not open.”
Patricia looked at Lupita.
“She is exaggerating what happened.”
Lupita straightened.
“I have not described what happened at all.”
“Then perhaps we should review the recording,” I said.
