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But everyone would know we were sharing a suite.
They would talk.
But what was the alternative? Grimly, I turned back to the clerk and nodded.
“It’s alright,” I said. “We can make it work.”
The clerk dragged her eyes back and forth between us and nodded slowly. “I apologize for the mistake, sir. We didn’t understand what the situation was between you and your…friend.”
“Thank you,” I said briskly. “And she’s my ward.”
The clerk glanced up, clearly confused.
“He’s my guardian,” Clara said, jerking her head at me.
“Oh,” the woman said. “Actually, I do need to see both your IDs.”
That was odd. I kept silent while Clara passed her ID over the counter. The woman looked over both our cards and handed them back. She finished our paperwork and gave us our keys. I took them with relief, glad the awkward encounter was over.
“What was that about?” Clara asked as we boarded the elevator.
“It was just a booking error,” I said.
“No, why did she want to see my ID?”
I sighed. “I think she was concerned that maybe you weren’t here voluntarily. I should have clarified that you were my financial ward.”
Clara’s jaw dropped. “I’m twenty-four.”
“I know that, we both do. But she probably sees a lot with the lodge being just an hour from the highway. I imagine a lot of rich assholes come through here with less than pure intentions.”
“Ew, men are the worst,” Clara said, stepping out into the hall.
“Unfortunately, you’ll have to meet some rich assholes this week,” I said. “So please be vigilant. And don’t fall for it when they or their sons go after you, because they definitely will.”
“Even knowing I’m marrying Osian next year?”
“If they have any knowledge of the organization, they’ll know you’re unattached until the last piece of jewelry,” I said, unlocking the door. “And if they’re not privy to that, they won’t know of Osian.”
I pushed open the door to a sizeable suite with a kitchenette. There was a bedroom door on each side with a lot of space between them, a few couches, and a rug.
This wasn’t so bad, there was enough room to give us the privacy we needed. It wasn’t like we’d be sharing a wall.
“I’ll take the twin,” she said, pushing open the right hand door. “Oh, look, it has a bathroom with a jet tub.”
If she was happy, I was happy. I circled the room, checking the locks absently and running my fingers over the windowsill for cracks. Everything seemed secure. I did a quick walk-through of Clara’s room to make sure it was safe and went to unpack.
I’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a t-shirt and sweatpants when I heard a timid knock on my door. Clara stood outside, wearing a tight t-shirt and loose pajama pants. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, little tendrils brushing her shoulders.
“Can I order room service?” she asked, holding out a menu. “It says they have chocolate mousse.”
“You may have anything you like,” I said. “Just charge it to the room. I’m going to do some work and go to bed. I have several meetings I need to prepare for tomorrow..”
She nodded and disappeared into her room.
I propped myself up in bed and put my reading glasses on. The screen of my laptop swam in my vision. I attempted to sort through my emails, but the words blurred.
Why hadn’t she worn a bra under her pajama top?
