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Summary
The client hadn’t really requested anything at all; their emails had been almost overly polite, if not jarringly formal, and had selected only the most vanilla options on the questionnaire she provided. Certainly a far cry from the standard practices of her usual clientele, but this one had paid upfront and picked this expensive hotel, and Mira’s fees are dear enough on their own that she had been coloured intrigued.
Mira takes a left down the hallway after leaving the elevator and finds herself at the door to the room. She doesn’t steel herself—doesn’t need to. She can handle anything. Has handled most things. Mira swipes the keycard and lets herself in.
The person sitting on the bed is probably the last thing she expects.
In which Mira is a professional, Rumi is socially inept, and Zoey is also there. Let's hope nobody catches feelings.