(FORTUNE Magazine) – I'm Hong Kong-bound to meet with Rupert, Wendi, and my tailor when I discover that my temporary secretary booked me into the Grand Hyatt instead of my beloved Peninsula. One step into the flashy, shiny lobby, and the gravity of the error is apparent; a hallway that reeks of congee doesn't help the situation (although it is an improvement over the street stink of dried gecko and molting chickens). The moment the door opens into my soothing room, my anxiety eases. The view across the harbor to Kowloon causes me to flinch only momentarily, when I catch sight of the Peninsula. By the time I'm sipping a gimlet in the 30th-floor Regency Club, watching a typhoon tear across the water, I'm torn between two hotels, feeling like a fool. Night's end, and I make my decision: I shall remain married to the Peninsula--my tailor is there after all--and the Hyatt will be my kept woman. Don't tell.

THE LOBBYIST

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