Grant caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror—he resembled a drowned rat. He could only imagine what kind of vagrant the man behind the desk thought had wandered into the hotel. Grant pointed to the elevator. “I’m on the fourth floor. Room 412? Grant?”

The night manager nodded. “Of course, Mr. Grant. I know who you are.”

Grant nodded and resumed his journey to the elevator. The night manager called out once again.

“I just wanted to remind you that tomorrow’s the twentieth.”

“Yes.”

It usually follows the nineteenth—even where I come from.

Grant turned around. The only thing he wanted to do was soak in a hot tub.

“So, you’ll be checking out as planned?”

This stopped Grant in his wet tracks once again. “Checking out?”

“I believe you were informed at check-in that we had no availability starting this weekend due to the Christmas holiday.”

“I thought you were going to let me know if something freed up.”

“I’m letting you know now that unfortunately nothing has.”

Grant couldn’t tell if the man was enjoying this or not. He suspected the former.

Half an hour later, Grant finally made it into the tub.

Unfortunately, now he was on the portable phone with the night manager, who said he had checked with every hotel in the area but regretted to inform Grant that they were also fully committed through Christmas Eve.

“But I do wish you the best of luck hunting down this maniac you’re looking for, Commander,” the night manager said before disconnecting.

Grant stared at the phone for a moment.

How much worse could this day possibly get?

Grant suddenly realized he’d forgotten to bring the soap into the tub. He could see it on the other side of the bathroom lying next to the sink.

Chapter 13

13

Grant’s stay at the London had been anything but ideal. But as he went to check out, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of refuge he was going to find in the Big Bad City, already fondly recalling the four nights spent in a room where the only perk had been a different chocolate left by the bed each evening.

The same woman who had registered him was behind the desk.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay, Commander.” She produced a credit card slip.

“I would’ve preferred it to be a little longer,” he said, scribbling his signature.

She gave him a sympathetic smile that he figured she’d been taught during employee training. “Our busiest time of year, I’m afraid.”

He knew it would be pointless to make another inquiry about extending his stay, certain he had other frustrating conversations ahead of him on this day.