“I’m aware of that, and I apologize for the inconvenience. I know the accommodations we’ve offered you can’t compare with the penthouse apartment—”
“Hey, dude, it’s all good,” the blond, Layne, said easily. “It’s only for the weekend.”
“Yes, well, I’ll see the charges for that suite are added to the good doctor’s fees.”
Most people wouldn’t have picked up on Hamilton’s distaste for the good doctor—he was too professional to denigrate a guest in front of other guests—but I was able to read it clearly. However, I dismissed it as an aversion to a difficult occupant of his hotel. To sublet her apartment and then demand its use for a weekend had to have left management scrambling to accommodate the two men.
Hamilton turned to me. “Mr. Layne is the lead singer of the group Love for Sale. Mr. Sanchez is his bodyguard.”
“How do you do?” I dismissed this Dr. G. and shook hands with them. “I’m—”
“This is Challenger Deep.”
I was surprised Hamilton introduced me by my pseudonym.