Chapter 117

I looked over in shock, halfway wondering, Who’s this gonna be, the general manager?

But it wasn’t a hotel employee, unless the hotel allowed guys to walk around out of uniform.

He was completely bald, but in a Jason Statham or Bruce Willis badass way, not a ‘needs Rogaine’ kind of way. He was slightly dark with olive skin. He was wearing a black short-sleeve shirt and black dress slacks, and his arms and chest were powerfully muscled underneath. His nose had been broken once and never healed straight. His jaw looked like it was made out of granite, and he was wearing black sunglasses that completely hid his eyes.

He was kind of scary-looking, though his voice was pleasant enough.

And he was standing just at the edge of the cabana.

“Uh… yes. Yes, it is,” I agreed warily.

“I have to tell you, I’ve been to hotels all over the world,” the man said, “and this ranks with the best of them. Best in Los Angeles, by far.”

He had the lightest hint of an accent, but I couldn’t place it. It wasn’