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My own ride shows up a few minutes later, and my driver confirms my destination—the hotel closest to where the graduation ceremony is taking place.
And when we get there, the lobby is absolute madness.
Graduation is tomorrow, and the line to check in is at least thirty people deep. I’m not shocked when I spot Lincoln in line only a few spots ahead of me, but if he sees me, he pretends he doesn’t. It makes sense he’d be staying here since it’s so close to the stadium, but I’m sort of surprised he doesn’t get some VIP check-in service given his importance.
I’m sure he is, too.
The person in front of him in line seems to recognize him, and they strike up a conversation.
I, on the other hand, am just a lowly reporter, and nobody here even knows me.
I can’t help but study Lincoln’s profile when he shifts just a bit in the line. Once upon a time, he was mine.
And now…this. We’re three people away from each other and ignoring the other’s presence.
It’s sad where we’ve landed. I wish things could be different, but I know they can’t.
The line moves quickly, and I watch as Lincoln walks up to check in. The three in front of me are apparently sharing a room, and they get called up next. The agent beside Lincoln opens up, and she calls me up.
“Jolene Bailey checking in,” I say, and I hand over my license and credit card.
She taps away at her keyboard, and I feel his gaze on my profile. I finally turn and look at him. “What?”
He raises his brows and shakes his head with a bit of a smirk as if to say he had a feeling I’d end up in the same place as him.
Yeah, well. Me too.
I blow out a breath and return my attention to my agent.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Bailey, but it looks like we don’t have a room for you.”
“I’m sorry? Maybe it’s under my boss’s name since his secretary booked it. Marcus Dean?”
She shakes her head. “No, your reservation is in here, but your boss booked via our quick book option which is sort of like standby for hotels. We’re overbooked this weekend, so I don’t have anything available. You can try the Hilton down the street, but this late in the game, I can assure you everything nearby is sold out.”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask. “What am I supposed to do?”
“We have a sister hotel about thirty minutes away if you’d like me to check if they have any availability.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Sure.”
She gets on the phone and says some things, and when she’s done, she glances up and me and makes an apologetic face. I know it’s coming before she says the words. “I’m so sorry, but they’re sold out, too.”
“What else is nearby?”
“You can look into an AirBNB maybe?” she suggests.
I pull out my phone to start looking up somewhere, anywhere where I can get a bed tonight.
“I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to get out of line so I can check in our next guest,” she says. She’s friendly enough, but that doesn’t mean her words don’t piss me the fuck off.
“Are you kidding me?” I practically roar at her. “You screwed me over and now you’re asking me to get out of your line? I’m not moving until I have a room!”
“She can stay with me,” a voice beside me says.
I freeze, and then I slowly turn toward the voice, my eyes about to fall out of my head. “What?”
“I’ve got a suite. We know each other. It’s fine.” He turns back toward his agent. “I’ll take another key.”
