“It may be under corporate booking,” Marcus replied. “Could you check again, please?”
Her smile tightened. “Sir, we’re fully booked. There’s an event upstairs. You can try the Marriott two blocks over.”
Marcus shifted Sophie higher against his shoulder. Her warm breath touched his collar, and for one dangerous second he wanted to say exactly who he was. He wanted to tell them that the lobby, the chandeliers, the suites above them, and the logo stitched onto their blazers all belonged to the company he had built from one bankrupt roadside inn eleven years earlier. But he did not.
He had always visited his hotels quietly, dressed like an ordinary guest, because reports told owners what employees wanted them to know, while lobbies told the truth.
“My daughter needs a bed,” he said. “Please check the executive booking tab.”
Renata gave a small laugh. “People say all kinds of things when they want an upgrade.”