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Bad to worse

THIRD PERSON'S POV

"Father?"

Jamal had a momentary shock at the sight. What was his Father doing at a hotel? And why was he dressed all sophisticated again? Who was this friend he always had to meet that made him have to look very different? Almost recognizable.

Curious as hell, Jamal couldn't keep his questions to himself, so he turned to the receptionist.

"Luther Beaconsfield. Is he checked in here?"

The receptionist was slightly put off by the sudden rigidity in his tone. But she took another second to check her list and nodded.

"Yes, he is. Are you here for him or you're here to see Mr. Davidson Clark? He said he'll be out in a few minutes."

"Sure. Thank you." Jamal nodded curtly and was going to walk away. But the crazy questions kept haunting his mind and he was back to pestering the receptionist.

"I'm really sorry for the extra trouble…" he chirped in an apology, at the slight squeeze in her face. Subtly, he took out a wad of dollar notes and slid it to her. "
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