Page 32 of Forbidden Game

“I booked these rooms two weeks ago. Not one day ago, two weeks ago. And you’re telling me that one of them was just,” Sydney pauses to flick her wrist dramatically, “given away?”

The clerk, Stewart, visibly swallows. I feel a little bad for the lad, having to go toe to toe with Syd. He doesn’t look a day over eighteen.

“Again, Ms. Lake, because you checked in so late and we hadn’t heard from you all day—”

“Because we also got stuck in the snowstorm,” she interrupts with a huff. “We got stuck and now we want our rooms, but you have given one of them away, so what am I supposed to do, Stewart?”

Our plane was stuck in a holding pattern for an extra hour in the air because there wasn’t sufficient visibility to land. All in all, it’s taken fifteen hours since we left the apartment this morning to reach Denver. It’s well past midnight, and I need to be up in a few hours to prep before the tournament.

When the clerk doesn’t respond, Syd bolsters on. “I would like to speak with the person in charge, please. This is ridiculous.”

Stewart’s face turns three shades paler before he splutters out, “The manager is also stuck in the storm and has been unable to come in.”

I swear I see a blood vessel pop on Sydney’s forehead.

We’re getting nowhere.

And as much as I love to see Syd battling it out with one of our rival hotel chains, I also desperately want a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. There’s nothing a low-level employee can do at this stage, and I would rather step on hot coals than call up Jace Kelton for a favor.

I wasted my last one when I broke in and skinny-dipped in his Vegas rooftop pool a few years back.

“Syd, let’s just take the room, and I’ll deal with the compensation later.” I give her shoulder a squeeze as I sidle up next to her.

Sydney’s narrowed gaze flicks to me before shooting back to the clerk.

“Fine,” she grinds out even though it’s clear to all of us that everything is not.

Poor Stewart shakes as he holds out the key card for us. “Your suite number is nineteen twenty-three. You can take the west elevators, which are located left of the statue. Breakfast is served starting at six at the buffet and in our restaurant at eight.”

Ugh. That hideous white marble polar bear statue. It’s almost ten feet tall and placed ostentatiously in the center of the entry hall. How the Keltons ever thought that was a tasteful decision escapes me. Now, the ice sculpture at the Covington Hotel in Norway? That’s a great design choice.

I gingerly pluck the key card from Stewart before looping my arm around Sydney and steering her away before she melts the boy to death with her glare.

“This is why we always stay at Covington Hotels,” I comment under my breath. “We’d never have a managerless hotel.”

“You guys don’t even have a hotel in Colorado,” she shoots back with a hiss.

“Yet.”

“Metaphorical hotels do not help us here.”

“Yes, but the hotel you did book is owned by one of our biggest rivals.”

“Every hotel is your rival.”

“Which is why you could’ve picked a quaint bed and breakfast.” I shrug letting go of our luggage so I can scan our key card for the lift. It beeps and directs us to enter elevator five.

“You would stay in a B and B?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I pull us into the opening lift. It has a glass backing so you can look out onto the rest of the hotel as you shoot up to your floor.

Sydney snorts. “Sure, whatever you say, English. Just remember that.”

She tries to shrug out of my hold, but I just pull her closer. Her nose is still red from waiting out in the cold earlier.

She’s more exhausted than I thought because she doesn’t fight back. In fact, it almost feels like she is leaning into my side. Thank God she is wearing her coat right now. The layer serves as a barrier between me and her soft body.

We finally reach the nineteenth floor and follow the little arrows to our room. Naturally, it is at the very end of an already long hallway.

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