The Comforter
Ben touched her back, guiding her through the doors. "Yes. She's just not listening—as usual."
The lobby was pale yellow and cream and dominated by a huge chandelier that hung in the center of the room.
The delicate chains of crystal glittered like gold in the warm yellow light and spun fingers of light through the entire lobby.
Under this, on a carved mahogany table, sat the biggest bunch of flowers she'd ever seen.
But their pale pinks and greens offset the golden glow of the room and counterbalanced the fiery red cushions that were scattered about on the various chairs.
"This is nice," she murmured, running her fingers across the top of one of the plush velvet chairs.
"This is expensive," Ben replied. "And I've put you in our top room."
"You can't—"