Chapter 22
It had been a long flight, made even longer by a six-hour layover in New York, but I finally arrived in Los Angeles.
I checked into El Deseo del Corazón on South Doheny Drive, the hotel at which I always stayed when I visited my son, and took the lift up to my suite on the twelfth floor. I didn’t really need a suite—that was a holdover from the days Jeremy would accompany me, but old habits and all that.
The bellboy placed the first of my suitcases on a luggage rack. “Shall I unpack for you, sir?”
“Please.” I strolled toward the coffee table, where an enormous basket held pride of place, not only filled with fruit, but also with the American snacks of which I’d grown fond over the years: M&Ms, crisps—potato chips here in the States—pretzels, and a jar of crunchy Skippy Peanu
