Page 2 of The Only Reason

When the driver pulls up to the hotel, I pay him and drag myself out of the car. With my suitcase wheeling behind me, my oversized purse on one arm and my camera bag slung over the other shoulder, I make my way to the check in desk.

“Hi, checking in for Dakota Knight.” I slide my ID across the counter to the woman standing in front of the computer.

“Hi!” she answers, far more chipper than I can handle at the moment. “Welcome to The Palazzo.” She takes my ID and starts tapping the keys. I watch as her chipper smile begins to falter.

“Everything okay?” I ask, exasperated and already fearing the worst.

“Um, yes. One moment.” She holds up her finger and gives me a weak smile. I know that smile. It means something is wrong, but she is pedaling for an answer as quickly as she can.

“It’s a king suite, if that helps,” I offer, feeling the worry build.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Knight, we don’t have anything booked for you.”

“What do you mean you don’t have the king suite booked? For Dakota Knight. I booked it two months ago!”

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I—I don’t see anything here for that name.”

“Nothing? Maybe it accidentally went under one of the other suites?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. There’s nothing here.”

I let out a heavy sigh. This isnothappening. “Fine, can you get one for me now?” At this point, I’ll take a twin-sized bed if it means I could just get some sleep. I wouldn’t be able to sleep sideways but at least I’d be able to sleep.

I watch her falter again. “We don’t have any left. With it being wedding season, it’s fully booked.”

“Wha—what?” I stutter as my eyes grow wide. “You don’t have a single suite. Anywhere. In this entire hotel?” I can hear my voice rising and the redness in my cheeks rises with it. I am not the type to get heated with anyone in customer service. I’ve dealt with that enough in my own profession. But right now, I am running on no sleep and east coast time. I don’t have the energy to keep my voice down.

I watch as the desk clerk sputters and gives me a weak smile. “Let me get my manager.” She scurries away before I can apologize. I let my head fall to my forearms crossed on the desk. My bag slides from my shoulder, making a loudthumpto the ground—not that I give a damn right now.

I can feel a small crowd of people filling in the counter space around me but I make no effort to move. I’m not risking anyone else swooping up any possible rooms for me to stay in.

I hear as someone else begins to check in. “Kate Samuels. We’re checking into the honeymoon suite.”

Before I can hear anything else, the first clerk clears her throat. I slowly lift my head. The moment I see her face, I know she doesn’t have anything good to say.

“I–I’m so sorry, Miss Knight.”

I see who I could only assume is the manager standing right behind her, as if waiting for me to lose my shit.

Which I almost do. I start to raise my finger when I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder. I’m about to whip around and give this person a piece of my mind, too, when I see a girl that appears to be about the same age as me but with long, dark brown hair. She has soft, brown eyes. I can see a touch of mascara that’s pooled at the edges of her eyes and something in me wants to reach out and wipe it away.

What the hell?I ask myself. But before I can think too much more on it, she speaks up.

“Hey, are you here for the Knight wedding?” Her voice is soft, smoothing out my rough anger. She reminds me of some of the models I’ve photographed, but I can tell she’s nothing like them. One look at her tells me she’s got a soft heart. Her brown eyes are inviting, making me want to get close to see what she’s hiding behind her stunning beauty.

“Um, yeah. I’m the photographer. But they don’t have my suite.”

“You–you could stay with me?” I can hear her trepidation as she says the words.

“Really?”

“I mean, yeah.” She shrugs and I see a tall guy come walking up behind her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. And I can tell in this instant there is something more between them. Or, more so something more that he wants. The way she ever so slightly tenses up tells me she’s not on the same page as him.

“What’s going on?” he asks, looking between us.

“Her–” She looks at me, realizing she doesn’t even know my name.

“Dakota,” I interject.

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