Buchanan’s jaw tightens, but he hides his frustration well as he turns to Erika. “How many people still need rooms?” She scans her iPad for the hundredth time and scoots her wire-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “You, Beck, Greer, and Ms. Rutherford. I have family in town, so I wasn’t planning to stay at the hotel, or else I’d be more than happy to give up my own room, but––”
