The Plain-Dressed Hotel Owner Who Reclaimed Her Lobby in Nine Minutes

enough.”

Madeline did not blink.

“No, Mr. Wells. It isn’t.”

For a moment, she was not in the Grand Harbor lobby anymore.

She was twenty-four again, standing in a roadside hotel outside Atlanta after a delayed flight.

Her hair was pulled back.

Her shoulders ached.

Her suitcase wheel had broken in the parking lot.

She had a confirmed reservation and barely enough continue reading …