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I went to pull out my driver’s license and realized it wouldn’t have the correct name on it. “I actually don’t have it with me.”
“Let me call up to the room,” she said.
“No!” I yelled, not meaning to say it quite as loud as it came out. The woman startled.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. I’m surprising my husband.”
“Okay.” She raised a brow. “Do you have a credit card or any sort of identification with your name on it,Mrs. Jack Sparrow?”
The way she said my name sounded very snarky, and I did not appreciate it.
“Let me ask you something,” I said, pausing to read her name tag. And wouldn’t you know, it was the name that Lou had called me one too many times. “Bailey.”
“Yes, Mrs. Sparrow?”
“Did you askMr. Jack Sparrowfor his identification?”
“Well, I wasn’t working when he checked in. But I’m sure someone did. It’s hotel policy.”
“I actually doubt that. And let me tell you what my problem is with this situation,” I said, flailing my hands around. “Haven’t women been held to a different set of rules than men for long enough? Come on. Let’s join forces and agree to say: No more! Power of the woman, Bailey!” I shouted.
“Ma’am, I wouldn’t care if you were a man, a woman, or a turtle. If you want to check in to this hotel, you need to have identification.”
“Fine. Call the room. But just be aware that you have failed not only me but all women far and wide.” I raised a brow as I sulked at the counter.
“I can live with that.”
Damn. This was not going as planned.
But I didn’t even care.
I just wanted to see him.
And I didn’t want to wait another minute.
thirty-two
Lincoln
I strolledinto the hotel after going to grab a late lunch down the street with the guys, and the finest ass I’d ever laid eyes on beckoned me from the front desk.
A pull so strong that my head whipped in her direction.
I’d know that perfect peach-shaped backside anywhere.
I’d also recognize that voice, which was currently expressing her displeasure with the woman standing in front of her. She was yelling about women being held to different standards and going on and on about the injustice in the world.
The corners of my lips turned up.
“Mr. Jack Sparrow is going to be furious that you wouldn’t give me a room key,” Brinkley hissed.
“She’s correct about that. Mrs. Jack Sparrow is listed on my room reservation.” I stepped up behind Brinkley and wrapped my arms around her. My chin rested on her shoulder as I breathed her in.
Lavender and honey.
I nipped at her earlobe.
