The receptionist typed steadily, her expression professional and neutral, though she had already noticed the familiar signs. She had seen couples like this before, men who avoided eye contact when signing, women who glowed with the thrill of secrecy.
“Welcome to the Aurora Grand, Mr Langley,” she said pleasantly. “Your suite is prepared. I should mention that tonight is a special evening for us. Our new owner has asked to personally greet guests during her first week.”
Peter barely registered the words. His attention was fixed on Kira, on the way she squeezed his hand, on the private night he had planned. His wife, whom he had assured was visiting her sister in another state, would not be expecting anything from him until Sunday. The lie had slid easily from his mouth, like so many before it.
“New owner,” he repeated absently. “Good for her.”
The receptionist smiled. “She should be joining us shortly.”
Peter reached for the key card, ready to move on, when a familiar voice cut through the atmosphere of the lobby with quiet precision.
“Peter.”