“Usually, we have another room prepped for them after they check in,” he explained, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Almost every time, Isabella has some kind of issue with the one she’s given. You’ll see, next time she’ll book 544 again, and she’ll ask to move the day after she gets here.”
“Really? Why?” I frowned, deciding that enough time had passed that I could sip at my whiskey again. It was smoother than anything I’d ever had before, probably priced higher than my monthly rent.
“I’d suggest never asking why our guests request odd things,” he laughed. “Otherwise, it might drive you crazy. Just smile, nod, and pretend it’s the most normal thing you’ve ever heard.”
“I see,” I nodded slowly in agreement, though I admitted to myself that I would still always be curious. I was still thinking about that man who hated triangle configurations, and was still wondering what trauma he’d gone through to get him to that point.
“What about Mr. Thatcher?” I ventured, deciding that even if it was risky to ask about him, I might as well give it a shot. “Do you have any info on dealing with him?”
Landon stared at me for a while before he answered, as if he was being careful with what he said.
“Mm, with him, it’s best to just smile politely and move on. Don’t get too involved.”
That was interesting. It seemed like Mr. Thatcher affected him in a similar way as all of the other staff. That made me even more curious about him, and who he was. What magical power did he have over all of them?
“If anyone else gives you trouble, you can reach out to me,” he finally added. “For now, I think you deserve a break. You can leave.”
“Thank you,” I answered, before taking the last sip of my whiskey and getting up. I headed for the door, but as I was about to open it, he spoke again.
“Oh, and Adriana?”
“Yes?” I looked over my shoulder at him, and I couldn’t quite place the expression he had on his face.
“If you ever need anything, day or night…” he paused, and his eyes subtly crossed over my body. “I’m available.”
I nodded quickly, said “thanks”, and got right out of there. Had that offer been suggestive of something? It couldn’t have been. There wasnothingbetween us. There couldn’t be.
Could there?
7
Adriana
“Right, that’s done… Have to check on the sculpture…” I muttered to myself as I scanned my checklist on my tablet. I was confident that I was going to pull that day’s fashion shoot off without a hitch.
My first week had gone by mostly smoothly, and I barely made any mistakes after that first day from hell. I hadn’t spilled anything in the kitchen, had only been yelled at by Nolan once, and had gotten several compliments from guests. By now, I felt almost invincible.
I knew most of the regular guests and their schedules by heart. I even spent some time in the shower reciting the more difficult ones to myself instead of my usual singing. I was definitely getting better by the day, and I was sure I’d be an absolute pro in no time.
Even my relationship with Nolan was improving. He’d gone from the odd grunt in my direction to mumbling a greeting whenever he saw me, which basically made me feel like we were as close as besties.
Still, today was the most challenging one so far. The Pacific was hosting an exclusive fashion shoot in the ballroom, and ofcourse, I had to coordinate absolutely everything for it. Most things were planned and in place by now, but I couldn’t lose focus for a single second. Everything had to be absolutely perfect.
“Excuse me.” Someone flagged me down as I was hurrying through the lobby to get to the sculpture delivery. I recognized Mr. Greenwood’s butler, who pushed his glasses up on his nose and cleared his throat as I approached. “Mr. Greenwood would like to know if his transport for the hike has arrived.”
I checked my tablet; one high-end vehicle to take them to the redwood grove. Due in six minutes. But, since Mr. Greenwood had checked in two days earlier, he had consistently asked about arrangements minutes ahead of schedule. I was prepared.
“Yes, it’s outside,” I said to the butler with a smile. “Please tell Mr. Greenwood that we hope that he enjoys his hike.”
I received a nod before the butler stiffly walked away.
Right, sculpture,I reminded myself, hurrying on through the lobby and the staff hallway beyond, toward the area where all deliveries arrived. Luckily, I had no more interruptions until I reached it.
I walked through the door, fully expecting our porters to already be talking to a delivery truck driver.
However, while three porters were standing in the receiving bay, there was no truck to be seen. I walked right up to them, my heart starting to beat faster. I hoped that the truck was a few minutes late and that there was no deeper issue.
“What’s going on?” I asked, and one of the porters turned to me.
