“Oh my stars,” she gasped, slapping both hands on the desk. “You’re awake.”
I blinked. “Hi?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to come down! I heard all about what happened. You poor little dove!” She rounded the desk and grabbed both my hands in hers. “I’m Hattie. Hattie Bloom. Owner, operator, front desk staff, breakfast hostess, and your personal concierge.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to keep up. “Hi.”
She smiled brightly. “You’re even cuter than I expected. Your forehead bandage doesn’t take away from anything! I told Babs, I said, ‘Any girl who crashes into Big Hank and survives must be pretty and tenacious,’and I was right.”
I wouldn’t say tenacious accurately described me, but I was willing to lean into it for this…interesting woman who seemed like she’d had three cups of coffee and been po
