The hotel lobby was huge, with subdued colors, and low lighting that would set most customers at ease. Like most of the fanciest hotels in Tokyo, the lobby was not on the ground floor. The hotel started on the twentieth floor and went up from there. Patrick sat Kiri and Jenna on a cushy bench in the center of the lobby and went to reception.
The concierge, an attractive woman in a tight black skirt, hurried over with kids’ bags for Jenna and Kiri. Patrick kept looking back and forth from the girls to the check-in clerk.
He explained that they missed their flight, which was technically true, and that his wife would join them, which was technically untrue, but worth saying for camouflage. The young woman at the counter accepted cash payment and his residence card instead of his passport, a
