Page 107 of Boss of the Year

The car pulled to a stop, and Robbie hopped out to check us in. We were just stepping onto the curb when he returned, looking like he was going to his own execution.

“Mr. Lyons?”

Lucas turned, his brow furrowed. He told all his staff to call him Lucas, so if his last name was being used, it was probably bad. “Yes?”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Sovery, very sorry. But there’s been a mistake with the reservation. As in…they don’t have it anymore.”

The hotel clerkdidn’twantto screw up Lucas’s reservation. And Robbie certainly didn’twantto be out of a job.

Nevertheless, they both looked legitimately worried that they were going to be out on the street in a matter of minutes if things weren’t cleared up fast.

“I double-checked this,” Robbie hissed as we stood at the reception desk of the nicest hotel in London while Lucas tried to talk the concierge into freeing up our space. “I swear, I triple-checked it. Quadruple-checked it. It’s like half my job on this trip. I come two days early to make freaking sure we have the right rooms, the right cars, the right everything!” He was hyperventilating by the time he was finished.

“Lucas knows that,” I told him. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

The problem wasn’t just that the hotel system had apparently eaten all the reservations for our group, including the penthouse suite for me and Lucas, plus adjoining suites for Robbie and the security members.

The problem was that on the same weekend we were in London, there were three major business summits (all of which Lucas was attending in varying capacities), two music festivals, and a major NATO meeting that meant every hotel, Airbnb, and hostel within a fifty-mile radius of the city were booked solid.

“What do you mean, it’soccupied?” Lucas’s voice was dangerously quiet.

The Prideview staff had joked about this version of their boss a lot over the years, but it was the first time I’d really seen the Ice Man for real.

The receptionist’s poshly accented voice trembled as she stared at her computer screen like it had betrayed her.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Lyons. A head of state has taken residence there for security reasons,” she explained, her hands fluttering over her keyboard. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose who, but the Prime Minister’s security detail insisted on the entire floor. We simply have no available rooms. No one does.”

Robbie shoved his face into his hands. “I’m going to be fired. I’m going to lose my job and be homeless on the streets of London like a Dickens character. Or Paddington Bear.”

“You are not. I’ll talk to him.” I walked up to Lucas and smiled sweetly when he turned that scowl onto me. “Hey.”

The scowl lessened. A little. “Hey.”

“Why don’t I call my sister and see if she and Xavier have space for us? They have a huge apartment in Mayfair, plus Xavier’s family owns another house somewhere outside of London too. I bet we could all squeeze in for a few days.”

Lucas looked genuinely befuddled by the idea. “Would they do that?”

I nodded and pulled out my phone. “Sure. That’s what family does.”

Or would, if Frankie would pick up her phone.

“Hey!” I began leaving a message after my third try. “Call me back ASAP, okay? The hotel screwed up the reservations for my boss and our group, and we need a place to crash for a night until we can sort out something else. There are five of us here. Was hoping you and Xavier could help us out. Love you, bye!”

I sent the same message via text and turned back to the concierge. Lucas was now pacing the lobby while Robbie was back on his own phone, hissing at some other hotel worker at another place.

The concierge looked like she wanted to melt into a puddle and drown.

“Listen, Rita, is it? Pretty name,” I tried to speak like we were friends. And also like I was Joni flirting her way out of a ticket. “There has to be something we can do here. A conference room. A broom closet. This—my boss—he’s not the kind of person you want to just leave on the street, you know?”

Shedidseem to know as she typed something into the computer. “I’m sorry. I keep refreshing cancellations, and there’s just—oh! One room just popped up. A standard room with two double beds. And there are cots we can set up in the storage room for three others if we can’t find another room.”

She sounded incredibly relieved. I didn’t blame her.

I slapped my hand on the counter. “We’ll take it.” I turned to Robbie and waved him over.

He looked like he had just spotted a gold mine as I told him about the situation.