Claire lowered her voice.
“Ma’am, fraud involving premium accommodations is more common than most guests realize.”
Jordan stopped fidgeting.
Naomi’s eyes remained on Claire.
“I see.”
“We have procedures designed to protect the property.”
“And the guests?”
Claire hesitated.
“Everyone.”
Naomi nodded slowly.
“Then tell me precisely what about my reservation triggered the fraud procedure.”
Claire’s face hardened.
“I didn’t say your reservation was fraudulent.”
“You said fraud is why you need additional verification.”
“I said it happens.”
“After looking at my reservation.”
Claire took a breath.
“I’m simply doing my job.”
Naomi had heard that sentence before.
In banks.
At private events.
In luxury stores.
At a car dealership where a salesman once asked whether she wanted to see the used vehicles before she had even introduced herself.
The words changed.
The feeling rarely did.
Naomi looked down.
Jordan was watching her now.
That mattered more than anything.
She controlled her voice.
“All right. What do you need?”
Claire looked almost disappointed that Naomi had not become angry.
“I’ll need to call the card issuer.”
“Go ahead.”
“That may take some time.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
Claire stared at her.
Naomi smiled.
“Are you?”
The woman at the neighboring desk looked over.
Claire’s jaw tightened.
She picked up the telephone.
Jordan whispered, “Is she mad?”
Naomi whispered back, “No.”
“She looks mad.”
“Sometimes people look different when they’re concentrating.”
Claire clearly heard.
Jordan leaned closer.
“She’s concentrating really hard.”
Naomi almost laughed.
“Jordan.”
“Sorry.”
Claire put the receiver down.
“I’m going to ask you to step aside while we resolve this.”
Naomi looked around.
There were no other guests waiting behind her.
“Why?”
“Other guests may need assistance.”
“No one is waiting.”
“Someone could arrive.”
Naomi studied her.
“So you want me to leave the desk?”
“Temporarily.”
“While you hold my credit card?”
Claire slid the card toward her.
Naomi took it.
Then she stepped away.
Not because Claire had authority over her.
Because Jordan was watching.
And Naomi wanted her son to understand something she had spent decades learning herself.
Dignity did not require surrender.
But dignity also did not require shouting.
They moved toward a seating area near the center of the lobby.
Jordan climbed onto a velvet sofa.
Naomi sat beside him.
“Are we staying here?”
“Yes.”
“The lady said our room is expensive.”
“She did.”
“Can we afford it?”
Naomi turned toward him.
The question was innocent.
But it hurt.
“Why are you asking?”
Jordan shrugged.
“She kept asking about money.”
Naomi watched him carefully.
“She was checking the reservation.”
“Why?”