Page 14 of Manhattan Kiss

I won’t let Willow go through what we did as children. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.

SIX

Aurora

I haven’t done shifts for a while. I was basically part of the furniture at The Rookery. I knew every nook and cranny. I knew the birthday of every single member of staff. There wasn’t a bit of worn carpet I wasn’t aware of. There wasn’t a bit of chipped paint I didn’t find out about.

It couldn’t be more opposite at Hotel on Ninth Street. Even though I’ve been here a week, I’m still a fish out of water. So even though doing an evening shift isn’t my favorite thing, it’s not like I’d be popping round to see Darcy, Logan, and their children if I wasn’t at work. I’d only be trying to figure out my TV and catching up on my audiobook. And it means it’s quieter, so I can understand more about how this place works.

I’ve just watched the head receptionist, Magda, check someone in from start to finish. It’s very similar to The Rookery. Even the software they use is basically the same.

“Are we expecting many other check-ins?” I ask.

“Only a couple,” she replies. “Sunday night is often quiet for us.”

I wonder if Mr. Black is checked in. I think Avril said he would arrive on a Sunday morning even though he paid for Saturday night.

The other receptionist on duty, Adesh, clears his throat, and when Magda and I look at him, he nods toward a guest who’s just entered the building. The guest looks like she’s in her twenties. She’s wearing a short skirt and matching jacket, which is giving Chanel vibes. Her cream heels are clip-clopping on the marble and she looks up and around like she just entered the Sistine Chapel.

She turns and sees the three of us behind the reception desk and she smiles. She totters over to where I’m standing. “I’m here to see Deacon Black. He’s staying here.”

I smile, and Magda shuffles toward me in case I don’t know what to do. But of course I do. This isn’t my first rodeo. Not even my second.

“Can I take your name, please?” I ask.

“Sienna,” she replies. “Sienna Gordon.”

“Just give me a moment, Ms. Gordon. I’ll check to see if I can find Mr. Black for you.”

My fingers hover over the computer as my brain cranks into gear. But before I can press a button, Magda murmurs “325” to me, so low Ms. Gordon couldn’t possibly hear.

I dial the appropriate number. When Mr. Black-slash-Rude British Guy answers, I say, “Mr. Black, I have Ms. Gordon in reception for you.”

“Please send her up,” he replies, all businesslike but not rude.

“Certainly, sir, enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you.” He hangs up.

Adesh interrupts us. “I’ll take you up, Ms. Gordon.”

“Oh, you don’t need to,” she says. “Is it the same room as usual?”

“Please, let me show you.” Adesh comes out from behind reception and very politely escorts Ms. Gordon toward the lifts.

“Well, we haven’t seen her in a while,” Magda says. “Avril will be intrigued.”

“Intrigued?” I ask.

“Mr. Black sometimes entertains women,” Magda says. “I mean, of course he does, have you seen him? Anyway, Avril likes to…speculate.”

“I imagine he doesn’t have much of a problem with women. Although…”

“Although?” Magda asks. “There’s a caveat to Mr. Black being hot as fuck?”

I laugh. “He’s rude though, right?”

“Has he been rude to you?”