The receptionist looked at me, eyes flicking with fear—because she recognized me even if Sienna didn’t.
I gave the smallest nod.
“Of course, ma’am,” the receptionist said smoothly. “We’ll escort you to our Special VIP Area.”
Sienna’s mouth curled in victory. “See? That’s VIP treatment.”
Two security staff—professional, polite—guided them away from the lobby. I followed a few steps behind, silent.
Sienna started to frown as the path changed—away from the oceanfront villas, away from the private elevators, away from anything that looked like luxury.
“Uh… why are we walking this way?” she demanded. “This looks like… back-of-house.”
We passed a service corridor.
We passed a staff access gate.
We reached the main exit near the drive where ride-shares and deliveries came and went.
Sienna stopped. “No. This is the parking area. Where’s the suite?”
That’s when I spoke.
“This is your VIP area.”
Sienna’s face twisted. “Excuse me?! I want the manager. Actually—get me the OWNER.”
Right on cue, the General Manager arrived—immaculate suit, calm posture, tablet in hand. He looked at Sienna, then at Derek… and then he turned to me.
He bowed his head slightly.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Hale.”