Then I slide off the stool and walk out of the lounge. Leaving my mostly full glass.
My heart is beating way too fast.
What the hell just happened?
I pass the front desk.
The lobby.
My plan is to grab my coat.
My purse.
Leave.
Go home.
Forget this whole weird night ever happened.
Instead …
My feet carry me straight into the elevator.
I press B.
Basement.
I’ve never been down there before.
I just know that’s where his office is.
The elevator hums as it descends.
My pulse matches the rhythm.
The doors slide open—a soft ding announcing my arrival.
The basement hallway is quieter than the rest of the hotel.
Long.
Dark.
The soft hum of electrical equipment echoes somewhere in the distance.
I follow the corridor until I spot a large wooden door with a brass plaque.
PORTER GARRISON
GENERAL MANAGER
I grab the doorknob.
Locked.
“Great,” I mutter.
I knew I shouldn’t have come.
