Page 40 of Stealing Forever

Declan drops Sailor’s hand and pulls his phone out, his attention completely diverted from his daughter, so I pick her up and put her on my hip.

“No, see, right here my confirmation says penthouse.” Declan turns his phone, holding it out for poor Kail, who’s now visibly nervous, to see.

“Let me call my manager over to help.”

Three minutes later, a balding older man power walks over to us, smiling in an overenthusiastic way. “Hello, hello! Welcome, welcome! What seems to be the trouble?”

Kail brings his manager up to speed, and he starts clicking through the computer prompts, as though the answer to the problem might magically appear.

“Hmm,” he hums, and I briefly wonder if he has a stylish name, or if it’s something like Bob or Larry. “It seems as though we’ve overbooked the penthouse and the system automatically placed you in our next best room, which is an ocean view suite with a king-bed and a pull-out couch. I understand it’s not the penthouse, but I assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Lane, this suite is quite luxurious.”

He thinks—oh.

“We’re not married,” Declan and I say at the same time. I blush when our eyes meet briefly as he continues overexplaining. “She’s my daughter’s nanny. I booked the penthouse for the convenience of the dual bedrooms.”

“I see.” The manager sympathetically nods profusely, staring at the screen. “I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s just book an additional room or suite, then,” Declan grumbles, placing his phone down on the counter a little too roughly. The manager startles.

“Sir, I’m so sorry, but we’re at capacity.” He taps his finger against the top of the mouse nervously. Behind him, Kail is stone-faced but watching closely.

Maybe he’s a new hire.

Declan pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean at capacity?”

“We have no additional rooms available.”

I can see Declan’s frustration bubble to the edge of his patience, threatening to spill over. Placing my hand on his arm seems to ground him slightly, and he looks down at it, before connecting his gaze to mine.

“It’s okay. We’ll make it work. You and Sailor take the bed, I’ll take the pull-out couch.”

“You were supposed to have your privacy at night, Hailey. You’ve been talking to Sailor about that jacuzzi tub for a week now.”

“I’ll just visit the one at the pool. No big deal.” I smile, hoping to drive home my point.

“For the inconvenience, I will apply a two-hundred and fifty dollar credit to your room to use on whatever amenities you’d like—room service, the spa. Just give them the room number and it’ll be taken care of,” the manager offers with a small smile, clearly nervous Declan won’t agree to their olive branch.

Declan looks at me. “I wanted this to be enjoyable for you,” he says in earnest.

“I’m already having a great time. Plus, I’m working, remember? As long as I have this girl by my side, I’m enjoying my day.” I grab Sailor’s ponytail and twirl it around my finger.

Mistakes happen. I completely understand why Declan’s upset, but it also isn’t anyone’s fault.

After a short stare off, Declan must determine I’m not lying to him, and he turns back to the manager. “Five-hundred incredit, because you owe her,” he gestures to me, “as much food, champagne, and spa services as she can enjoy while we’re here.”

“That sounds reasonable, sir.”

A few minutes later we’re handed our room keys and set off toward the elevator. Sailor bounces on the balls of her feet in excitement as we ascend, and she counts the numbers of each floor as they flash above the door.

We find our room easily and when Declan places the keycard against the lock and the light turns green my nerves detonate.

Gesturing Sailor and me in first, we step inside together and Sailor rips her hand from mine, running over to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the ocean. Both of her tiny palms press against the glass, and she giggles with glee.

Leaving my suitcase against the wall, I join her, squatting down to look at her level. “This is so pretty. Do you see the ocean, Sailor?”

“I really want to go there, Mama.”

Behind me, Declan drops something, the resounding clatter hitting the carpeted floor.

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