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It’s late afternoon, and the hotel lobby is bright, filled with pale wood and woven accents. Familiar now, after last year’s stay. Beach sand is tracked in from the open doors, and a ceiling fan turns slowly overhead. A cool ocean breeze catches Zoey’s pitch-black hair as the two of you stand at the check-in desk.
The clerk pulls up your reservation, nods, then pauses. He looks back at the screen, frowns slightly, and says, “I’m sorry, it looks like we’ve overbooked this weekend. Your original room isn’t available, but let me see what I can do.”
Zoey blinks once, then gives a small, polite smile. “Okay ... ummm, what does that mean for us?”
The clerk exhales quietly, already anticipating the question. "One moment please, I'll do my best to fix this."