Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Just go now or I’ll get into trouble. But thanks,” Marcella says. “You’ve been great.”
I do my best to smile. “Thanks for all the help. You’re the best, Marcella.”
I turn and head out of the service door, giving the Park Suite one final look.
When I get to reception, I’m handed a plastic-wrapped uniform and directed to the basement to change. As I tear open the package, I wonder if Bennett ever has any need to come to reception. Probably not. Although, other than check people in and out, I have no clue what reception does.
There are two other women in the changing room and they look like they have the same uniform as me. I haven’t been paying attention to the different uniforms throughout the hotel. Housekeeping feels a little removed from the rest of the staff, even though we’re right in the heart of it.
“I can’t freaking believe I’m here,” the girl with the high pony says. “I should never have answered my phone.”
“Why didn’t you just make up an excuse?” says the woman with short brown hair. “I would have told them I was out of state or something.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking straight,” High Pony admits. “The entire reason I took this job was because Jessie has never been called in on a day off.”
“I’ve never heard of a booking system going down,” Short Hair says. “Not in a hotel of this size. Did you ever have it happen at the Mandarin?”
She shakes her head. “They better get it back up quick, because it’s going to be a shit show out there.”
She’s right. I don’t even know how you check people in if you don’t have a booking system. High Pony looks in my direction as I tuck in my blouse.
“You working reception too?” she asks.
I nod. “Coming from housekeeping, so it’s going to be a baptism of fire. Does it happen a lot? The booking system going down?”
The woman with short hair laughs and High Pony says, “If it did, I wouldn’t be working here. We’re going to take a lot of shit for this when it’s not even our fault. It’s impossible to run a hotel and not have a good booking system.”
Short Hair snarks, “So maybe we’re not working in a good hotel?” They share a little smirk before heading to the door.
I wish I could help beyond being just another pair of hands on reception. If only Gretel knew she had one of the most successful men in tech checked into the Park Suite. I bet Fort Inc. could have the system back up in a nanosecond.
ELEVEN
Bennett
Leo’s apartment looks like the apartment a teenage boy would imagine in his head, apart from the fact that there aren’t pictures of half-naked women on the walls. Well, there are, but they’re black-and-white photographs in expensive frames, not dogeared posters. There’s the biggest TV screen I’ve ever seen on one wall, and right next to it is a smaller screen—presumably so he can game and watch TV simultaneously? A bar at the other end of the room is only a little smaller than the one at my hotel—the one where I met Efa.
I was on calls all morning and couldn’t request housekeeping until later in the day. Efa wasn’t with the older woman when she finally arrived. It took me by surprise how disappointed I was. I even picked up my phone to message her and ask her where she was, but I realized I didn’t have her number.
Where did she go?
“Beer?” Leo asks, stepping behind the gigantic bar.
“Am I the first here?” I sit down on the black velvet couch and spare half a thought for what residual substances I’m currently coming into contact with. I bet this couch has seen things no one should. To say Leo is a player is like saying Satan isn’t the kind of man you want to bring home to Mom.
“Of course you’re the first one here. This is our thing. We have a few minutes before the rest of the pack arrives.”
I nod. He’s right. It’s often the two of us together early. And today it’s not entirely by accident.
“How’s your love life?” I ask him, taking the beer he offers and glancing around the place.
He chuckles. “Absolutely dandy, thanks.”
“Do you ever sleep with anyone more than once?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says. “Generally I have a regular-Tuesday-evening thing with someone. A sometimes-Friday thing with another. And then they cycle in and out. You know.”
I don’t. But I don’t say anything.
“I picked up this girl the other night and called her to come over last night. That’s not usually my thing. But she’s fucking hot.”
I half zone out of Leo talking about women. It’s not why I asked the question.
“How young is too young for you?” I ask.
He laughs. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to feel better about yourself by comparing yourself to me?” He doesn’t sound offended. That’s the thing with Leo—he knows who he is and he’s totally fine with it.