Princeton, or Prince to his friends, quirked a brow as he waited for the young man to answer his question. He had been sitting in the restaurant with Roderick, a friend, discussing business when he noticed the commotion at the front desk. Prince instantly recognized the kid’s straight back and the leather jacket he had worn the first time they met, when his son Bevin brought him home for the holidays.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t find your reservation,” Sandra, the front desk attendant, flustered, told him. 

Finn took a deep breath, and he calmed his raging emotions that were getting ready to spill out at any moment. “Please check again. I made these reservations six months ago and received a confirmation email.” He held his phone up to Sandra’s face so she could see the email with all the information, especially the confirmation number. “I even called the resort and was told everything was set. So how did you lose my information in a week?”