A willowy tall woman with brunet curls that frame her perfectly made-up face barges through the hotel door stumbling over her own two feet. Purse strap tangled around her wrist making her grip on the suitcase on wheels precarious at best. She casts a defiant glare at the uniformed porter who quickly moved towards her to offer assistance, warning him to back off. Her eyes land on the clerk behind the counter and without losing eye contact marches towards him. Before even getting to the desk, she's barking orders.
"Well, don't just stand there," Her voice dripping with disdain. "give me the key to my room. I'm Diane Fowler." An impatient sigh flies from her pursed lips as she looks about the room while the clerk quickly inputs her name into the computer. Sure enough, room 213, a single king suite has been reserved for the next two weeks for Mrs. Fowler.
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