Stacey Stapleton replaced the phone in its fancy-pants cradle, casting it a glare as if it had done her a personal wrong. Everything about this room on the fifteenth floor screamed high-end, and there was no way for her to replicate it. Number one, she only had one floor, so she could never provide the bay view that this new hotel, Sweet Breeze, did.
Number two, she was currently saving every penny she had to replace the carpet in the five rooms she had available at her bed and breakfast, and she now had a huge charge sitting on her credit card for this little espionage escapade she’d indulged herself in.
She should’ve known coming to Sweet Breeze was a bad idea. The air here felt a little too sticky, the smiles on the staff’s faces a little too sweet, and the service a little too slick.
