“One moment, please.”
“Is there a problem?” Derek asked, tapping his fingers impatiently on the stone. “Because I specifically requested the lake view, and I expect it to be ready.”
“I have the reservation right here,” the clerk murmured, looking genuinely confused. “But Mr. Sterling, this reservation isn’t under your name. It’s under Martha Griffin, and the billing is entirely tied to her account.”
Chloe let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“That’s impossible. My mother is a retired widow on a fixed income. She couldn’t possibly afford a single night here, let alone secure the presidential suite. Check the system again.”
The clerk’s smile tightened, maintaining her professional composure.
“I am looking at the master file, ma’am. Ms. Martha Griffin is listed as the primary account holder for all three suites booked for your family party.”
I stepped forward, resting my hands on the cool marble.
“That’s correct, dear.”
Chloe whipped her head around, glaring at me.
“Mom, what did you do? Did you use Derrick’s name to get a senior discount? This is exactly why I didn’t want to bring you. You always make things so complicated and embarrassing.”
“I didn’t use anyone’s name but my own,” I replied smoothly.
Before Chloe could launch into another lecture about my supposed financial incompetence, the heavy oak door behind the reception desk swung open.
A tall man in a tailored suit stepped out, his eyes scanning the lobby before landing directly on me.
Mr. Vance, the general manager of Pinerest Lodge, walked briskly toward us. He completely bypassed Derek and Khloe, stopping right in front of me with a warm, genuine smile.
“Martha, it is a pleasure to finally have you on site,” he greeted firmly, shaking my hand. “We weren’t expecting you until this evening.”
“I decided to beat the weekend traffic, Arthur,” I answered.
Chloe stared at the two of us, her mouth hanging slightly open.
“Excuse me,” she interrupted, crossing her arms tightly. “Do you know my mother?”