“The Presidential Suite is generally reserved for distinguished guests.”
Danielle tilted her head.
“What makes a guest distinguished?”
Eric hesitated.
“Certain qualifications.”
“Such as?”
“Financial arrangements. Guest history. Security requirements.”
“Have you requested my identification?”
“No.”
“Have you asked for a payment method?”
“No, but—”
“Have you checked my reservation?”
“Vanessa already did.”
“She typed for approximately four seconds.”
Vanessa flushed.
“That's all it takes.”
Danielle looked at Eric.
“Would you check again?”
Eric crossed his arms.
“Madam, our staff are trained professionals.”
“Then I'm sure they'll have no difficulty confirming whether a room is available.”
His expression darkened.
“I don't appreciate your tone.”
Danielle blinked.
“My tone?”
“Yes.”
“I haven't raised my voice.”
“You're being confrontational.”
Danielle glanced around the lobby.
Several guests had begun watching.
An elderly gentleman lowered his newspaper.
A young couple stopped near the elevators.
Danielle returned her attention to Eric.
“I'm asking for the same service your other guests receive.”
Eric sighed.
“Perhaps this establishment simply isn't the right fit for you.”
“And why is that?”
He glanced at Elijah.
“We maintain a particular atmosphere.”
Danielle's expression became very still.
“Does my son threaten that atmosphere?”
“That's not what I said.”
“Then explain what you meant.”
Eric looked uncomfortable.
Vanessa interrupted.
“She's making this unnecessarily difficult.”
Danielle turned toward her.
“I'm asking you to honor a reservation.”
“And I'm telling you that we don't have anything available.”
Danielle reached into her handbag.
Eric watched suspiciously.
“What are you doing?”
“Contacting someone.”
“If you're calling the police, that's your decision.”
“I'm not calling the police.”
“Then who?”
Danielle typed a message.
I'm in the lobby. Please come downstairs immediately.
She pressed send.
Then she put her phone away.
“Someone who understands how this hotel is supposed to operate.”
Eric laughed.
“Madam, threatening our staff won't help.”
Danielle looked at him.
“Was that a threat?”
“It sounded like one.”
“Then you misunderstood.”
Elijah tugged at her hand.
“Mommy, I'm hungry.”
“I know, baby.”
Vanessa overheard.
“There's a fast-food restaurant around the corner.”
Danielle turned.
“Excuse me?”
“It might be more suitable for children.”
“Does the Grand Meridian no longer serve children?”
“Of course we do.”
“Then why are you suggesting that my son eat somewhere else?”
Vanessa shrugged.
“I'm trying to help.”
Before Danielle could respond, a young bellman approached.
He wore a neatly pressed uniform and carried a small tray.
“Excuse me, ma'am.”
Danielle turned.
His name badge read MARCUS REED.
“I noticed your son looked tired. Would he like some water?”
Danielle smiled.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
Marcus crouched beside Elijah.
“Hey, buddy. Is that a dinosaur?”
Elijah nodded.
“Captain Rex.”
“That's an excellent name.”
“He protects me.”
Marcus grinned.
“Then you're in very good hands.”
He handed Elijah a bottle of water and a small packet of crackers.
“Here you go, Captain.”
Elijah smiled for the first time since entering the hotel.
“Thank you.”
Vanessa glared at Marcus.
“Don't you have luggage to handle?”
Marcus straightened.
“Yes, ma'am. I was just helping.”
“Then go help someone who's actually staying here.”
Marcus froze.
Danielle looked at Vanessa.
“That was unnecessary.”
Vanessa ignored her.
Marcus lowered his head.
“I'm sorry.”
Danielle shook hers.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
He looked surprised.
“Thank you for being kind to my son,” she continued.
Marcus gave a small nod and returned to his duties.
Eric checked his watch.
“Madam, this has gone on long enough.”
Danielle looked at him.
“Then perhaps you should stop delaying my reservation.”
His patience snapped.
“I'm asking you to leave.”
Danielle didn't move.
“On what grounds?”
“Disruptive behavior.”
“By requesting a room?”
“By refusing to accept our decision.”
Danielle studied him.
“Are you certain that's the decision you want to make?”
Eric straightened.
“Absolutely.”
“Then please state your full name.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I want an accurate record of this conversation.”
“Eric Dalton. Front Office Supervisor.”
“Thank you.”
Vanessa smirked.
“Writing a complaint won't change anything.”
Danielle looked at her.
“Perhaps not.”
She glanced toward the elevators.
“But I suspect the next few minutes will.”
At that moment, the elevator doors opened.
A woman in a navy business suit hurried across the lobby.
She was in her late forties, with short dark hair and an expression of growing concern.
Catherine Brooks.
General Manager of the Grand Meridian.
The moment she saw Danielle, she stopped.
“Ms. Whitmore?”
Danielle nodded.
“Good evening, Catherine.”
Catherine approached quickly.
“I wasn't informed you were arriving tonight.”
“That was intentional.”
“Is everything all right?”
Danielle looked toward the reception desk.
“Not particularly.”
Catherine turned toward Eric.
“What happened?”
Eric immediately straightened.
“There's been a misunderstanding involving a reservation.”
Vanessa nodded.
“This woman demanded the Presidential Suite, but—”
Catherine interrupted.
“This woman?”
Vanessa blinked.
“Yes.”
Catherine stared at her.
“Vanessa, do you know who this is?”
“No.”
Catherine's expression hardened.
“This is Danielle Whitmore.”
Eric's face changed.
Vanessa looked confused.
Catherine continued.
“Chairwoman of Whitmore Hospitality Holdings.”
The lobby fell silent.
“And the majority owner of the Grand Meridian Hotel.”
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Vanessa gripped the counter.
Eric took a step backward.
Elijah looked up at his mother.