The feeling was not mutual. Grayson Masterson was six-two, square-jawed, and had offered Akbar an overly-powerful handshake when they met. Akbar restrained himself from returning the favor by perhaps crushing a few bones with his firefighter-strong grip, and simply returned the same as he received.
He had to remind himself that this was one of Laura’s paying guests, and at no small fee. He’d seen the price that Bess wrote off at the front desk when Laura had added him to the list as a personal guest. He’d actually felt a little guilty, but Bess had cut off his protest.
“You’ll earn it, young man,” she told him without explaining. “Besides, you’re the first ‘personal guest’ Laura has ever signed up even though it’s one of her job perks. I look forward to hearing more about you.” She offer
