Amber Malssum wondered if it was time to move to a new job. She’d been working at The Sidderlight for four years. While she loved the boutique hotel, it now ran like it hadn’t once been a pariah in the hospitality world.

When she initially arrived for her interview, the lobby was sad and tired. But she’d seen the potential. Like her sister Jolie, the potential of a place called to her.

Jolie’s focus was the land and the planet. Amber’s focus was old buildings, specifically hotels and inns. Maybe not as altruistic as her sister, but that’s what made her heartbeat quicken. One day, she might even have one of her own. One that could be a home. As much as Amber loved The Sidderlight, it would never be her home.

Her vision for adding old-world charm and quiet luxury to this old Chicago building had landed her the job of assistant manager. She’d dropped the assistant part two years before.

It was satisfying to watch the expressions on the faces of people entering the lobby. It only took seconds for their shoulders to drop from around their ears. Their furrowed brows smoothed out and their frowns tilted upward. All because the lobby exuded welcome and comfort. A harbinger of a safe, luxurious retreat.

Amber was happy with the results of her hard work combined with the owner’s investment. He was as well. The Sidderlight had evolved from a bland mid-range hotel in Chicago to an exclusive stopover for travelers seeking quiet elegance and privacy.

The staff she’d hired were happy, easy-going people who didn’t panic in the face of grumpy guests arriving hours late after a plane delay.

The fancy espresso machine installed behind the welcome desk helped, too. No paper cups, only high-quality mugs, and teacups. Welcoming their guests with a fancy drink of their choice upon check-in brought smiles. It set the tone for a pleasant, comfortable stay.

Amber and her staff worked their butts off to ensure the rest of the guests’ stays were just as wonderful.

She couldn’t be happier with the progress of the hotel and its reputation. But that meant the itch between her shoulders returned.

Was it time to move on again? Find a new challenge? Maybe find a place where she felt at home?

She doubted that was possible, as she was constantly waiting for the proverbial rug to be yanked from below her feet.

She imagined she could trace that personality trait back to when her parents had died in a car crash. She, Jolie, and their three older brothers had moved in with their grandfather Fox.

Fox hadn’t hesitated, had never implied they were too much work or that he didn’t want them. In fact, he’d worked hard to ensure each of the kids had felt welcome. That each of them knew they were loved and appreciated.

Still, she’d been afraid. Afraid of something happening to Fox, and the five of them tossed into separate foster homes.

Burke, the eldest, had tried to assure her that it would never happen. He wouldn’t allow it. Even at fifteen, Burke had been sure of his purpose. He’d thrown himself into taking care of them right along with Fox. He’d worked as many jobs as he could squeeze in, making sure his bank account grew so that he could take care of any emergencies that cropped up.

Their parents’ deaths had affected them all deeply. Amber knew her craving for home had begun that night. As had her worries that she wouldn’t be wanted, that she wouldn’t be enough.

She’d learned to take care of as many household chores as she could in her desperate effort to keep the family together.

At nine, she’d believed all Mean Billy’s horror stories. The boy had lived in several foster homes and told awful stories of some of them. He’d scared her with his tales of what could happen to her and the others if Fox died. Mean Billy had told her Fox was too old to take care of five kids, and that the stress would kill him.

It hadn’t. Fox had been one of the strongest, best people she’d ever known. A heart attack had taken him just over a year ago and she missed him fiercely. He loved hearing about her renovations and plans for her hotels. “You’re the best at making a house a home, Amber. You know what people want and need. You do the same for those buildings. Make them livable and lovable again.”

The memory had her blinking back tears even as she wondered what had happened to Mean Billy. He’d only been at their school the one year, but she hoped his life had turned out well. Hoped that he’d found someone like Fox to teach him that the world might be tough, but with people you loved at your back, you could make a difference.

With a sigh, Amber shoved away the memories and exited her office—time to live in the present and check on her staff.

Everyone on staff wore tidy black suits with crisp white shirts and subtle name tags. Jolie would detest the lack of color. Amber was used to it. Blending into the background was important for hotel employees, and something she did well. Something she’d always done well.

Behind the polished front desk, Shirika smiled at Amber. The woman was seven months pregnant with a toddler at home. Amber was sure she was perpetually exhausted, but you could never tell, as the woman was soft, sweet, and happy. “How are you feeling, Shirika?”

Shirika’s smile widened. “I’m good. All the guests have checked in. The Wells party arrived and settled into their suites. One man wanted the strongest espresso we could make, but the spiced apple lattes were a hit with the rest.”

Amber grinned. She’d been inspired to add the new flavor because she and her siblings had recently inherited an apple farm in Vermont from Fox’s brother Jay. A man they’d never known existed. A man they’d never have a chance to meet because a heart attack had taken him, like Fox.

Knox and Jolie were now living on the farm and loving it. It wasn’t surprising that apples were on her mind as the two of them were upping the pressure on Amber, Lawson, and Burke to give farming life a try.

According to Jolie, an old farmhouse was waiting for Amber to bring out its full potential.

But there was no way for Amber to make money on the farm. Her savings account was hefty, thanks to taking Burke’s advice on investments, but not having a regular paycheck made her stomach hurt.

She refocused back to Shirika. “I’m glad the lattes were a hit. Did the entire party arrive?”

Shirika nodded. “All seven of them. Once the admin registered for the entire group, he organized for Mr. Wells to be ushered to the elevator with three of the guards.”

Which meant he was another one of their clients who believed he was important enough to have bodyguards. The hotel’s exclusive nature meant it often catered to people who craved privacy. She never met some of them as their staff members handled all the business transactions.

Most people didn’t have so many guards, though. “There were three bodyguards?”

Shirika shook her head. “Four. The fourth one, the total hottie who wanted the espresso, asked for the link to the lobby cameras and checked out the security here in the lobby before he followed them up.”

When Amber suggested improved security for their high-end clients, she’d done extensive research. Adding security cameras to the lobby and hallways had been a smart decision. As had allowing their high-end clients access to the lobby cameras. The cameras couldn’t capture the hotel’s computer information, so it was a simple addition that helped guests feel more secure.

It wasn’t a breach of anyone’s privacy, as the lobby was a public space. They had the same view as if they sat in one of the comfy chairs scattered about. It was nice to know that another guest had availed themselves of the perk. Another proof the investment had been worth it.

“Why don’t you take a break, Shirika? I’m all caught up on paperwork and can handle the desk for an hour. Go put up your feet and have one of those lattes. Close your eyes for a few minutes.” Amber had ensured the staff break room had a smaller room off one end for people who wanted to catch a nap or even a few moments of privacy on their breaks.

Shirika shook her head. “I’m good, Amber.”

But Amber saw the woman’s eyes light up. She wouldn’t ever admit she was exhausted. Amber pushed. “You’re growing a human, Shirika. If the Wells party has arrived, it should be quiet for the rest of the evening. If anyone requires advice on restaurants or delivery services, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Shirika laughed. “You could handle that in your sleep with a horde of rats nibbling your toes.”

Amber laughed. “Where did that imagery come from?”

Shirika patted her round belly. “Little one moves a lot at night and induces the strangest dreams.”

Amber grinned. “Sounds like a good reason to go steal a nap. Go, I’ve got this.”

Shirika stood. “Thanks, Amber. If it gets busy or you need me, just call.”

“I will.” But she wouldn’t. Shirika deserved a break.

When she was alone in the lobby, Amber’s gaze roved the space, looking for anything to fix or clean. Nothing. Everything was serene and settled, precisely as it should be.

She wondered if Nathaniel Sidderlight had purchased another property. With the changes they’d made over the last few years, the man had made enough to open another hotel. Maybe a couple. But in his seventies, Nathaniel wasn’t sure he wanted more. He had no kids to leave it to and enjoyed traveling the world.

That didn’t appeal to Amber. She much preferred the peace and comfort of a home base. An actual home would be better, but for years, she’d lived in the hotels where she worked. As nice as her spaces were, they weren’t a home.

Maybe one day.

A group of three men strode into the lobby from the street door. They weren’t expecting more guests, but maybe they were part of the Wells party who had been out scouting the neighborhood.

The men wore dark suits, stretched to the limits with bulging muscles and matching grim expressions. A shiver of apprehension skittered down her spine, and she was glad she’d sent Shirika to the break room. Amber straightened and pasted on her best inn-keeper’s smile. “Welcome to The Sidderlight. How may I help you?”

One man looked at her, while the other two took in every detail of the lobby, focusing on the exits and the elevator.

Part of The Sidderlight policy was a commitment to privacy. The elevators wouldn’t open without an activated key card. The same applied to the stairwell doors. From the other floors, those were unlocked so people could leave freely, but it wasn’t easy to get to the hotel proper from the lobby. No strangers could wander the hallways or use the elevators.

Nerves had her fingers moving instinctively on the keyboard. As another nod to privacy, they’d installed a new security system in their computers. Part of that was an emergency code that would shut off the computers and lock them down. They would only be reactivated with a code from two high-level employees. Shutting it down would mean calling Mr. Sidderlight to reactivate it along with her.

She typed in the first part of the code, but didn’t press Enter yet. Not until she was sure.

The man leaned closer. “I’m with Brandon Wells. Which room?”

Amber wished she’d been in the lobby earlier. Maybe this was a legitimate request. But Shirika said the entire party had arrived and gone upstairs. “Could I see some identification, please?”

The man’s eyes darkened, and he growled. “Which room?”

Not good. Not good. She kept her gaze steady on his. “I’m sorry, it’s company policy. I need to see some identification.”

The other two men moved to the sides of the desk, and Amber’s fingers trembled. She kept her eyes on the man in front of her and her fingers on the keyboard.

The man opened his jacket and put his hand on the gun holstered at his side. “Which room?”

Fear shuddered through Amber, but she pressed Enter and the computer shut down.