“Unfortunately, there aren’t any other limos available,” I explained, without bothering to check my tablet. He was being completely and utterly unreasonable, and I had no idea why. But I wasn’t going to cave in on his every whim. “It will have to be this one. Otherwise, I can organize an SUV for you.”
“No, I want a limo,” Reggie insisted, and I half-expected him to stomp his feet angrily. “Get the smell out of it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That would take at least an hour. You would miss your lunch.”
“You know what, I’ll just go sit in my bath, it’s big enough,” Reggie answered, obviously not in the mood to cooperate with me in the slightest. “Call me down when the smell is dealt with.And bring me an iced tea. And a snack. And a new robe. I don’t like the way mine ties around my waist.”
He stormed back to the front door, and I turned my attention to the driver. “Can you get it done?”
The driver seemed flabbergasted, but he shrugged. “I mean, by lunch? Probably. You think he’ll be fine with sandalwood? Pine, maybe? I don’t know, I’ve never had this problem.”
“Sandalwood is fine,” I sighed, already dialing the bar for the iced tea. “If it isn’t, then he’ll have to either take the SUV or eat out on the terrace. No reason to fill your day looking for different air fresheners.”
“Okay,” the driver answered, reaching through the open driver’s side door to take down the minty tree that hung on his mirror.
I headed back inside, organizing each of Reggie’s tantrum-requests as I did so. I had a feeling that his little problems were going to take up most of my day. At the very least, it was definitely going to get in the way of the rest of my work.
I went back to the event area to check that everything was going smoothly. Luckily, there were no problems there, which was a huge relief. I accompanied other guests to their cars and arranged a visit to the spa for some. I was getting back into the rhythm of the day, when I received a call from reception.
“Reggie doesn’t want to go out,” Louise said, sounding frustrated. “He says he’s not in the mood now that his swim was ruined. He wants a private dining room.”
“Nolan doesn’t have time to make him a private lunch, and I don’t have the energy to set up a whole dining room for him. He could get the standard room service menu,” I answered, my patience starting to run out.
“You try telling him that,” Louise said with exasperation now lacing her tone. “You know he’s not going to listen. That man’s the most stubborn and ornery guest we have, and he’s taking it to a new level today. Honestly, I wish he’d leave.”
“Is he in his room?” I asked, which Louise quickly confirmed. “Okay. I’ll sort him out, don’t worry. Can you get someone to take the Hansens to their transport?”
“No problem.” Louise ended the call at that point, and I made my way to the elevator. I’d had enough at this point. Reggie was starting to really get on my nerves and interfere with the rest of my work. Whatever his issue was, I was going to sort it out now before it got any worse.
I took the elevator up to Reggie’s floor, one of the highest. It was just under the penthouse, in fact, the best suite that the hotel had to offer. I had no idea how Reggie could afford to stay there basically permanently.
As far as I knew, his money came from inheritance, but that wasn’t actually confirmed.
I walked down the hallway with confident purpose, and knocked on his door firmly.
“It’s Adriana, the concierge,” I announced, and heard a shuffle from inside. Reggie answered the door with his robe wrapped tightly around his body and a look on his face that told me he was ready to complain about something else.
“Why can’t I have my dining room?” he demanded. “And why is my bath water so wrong?”
I had no idea where he was coming from with the bath water. Frankly, I didn’t really know what it meant for the water to be ‘wrong’ in the first place. I waited for him to say something else, since it looked like he wasn’t quite done.
“Honestly, maybe I should just get another room,” he said, stomping back inside as I followed quietly. “Or you could replace the bath in this one. I can’t have it like this. Nothing is right. The towels are too scratchy, and the air conditioning is off by half a degree all the time. It’s ridiculous. I can’t live like this.”
“Okay, Reggie,” I finally answered, firm and strict.
Reggie turned to face me, surprise etched into his expression. He didn’t expect to hear that kind of tone from anyone, especially not hotel staff.
“Excuse me?” he asked, but I interrupted him before he could start a brand-new rant.
“I need you to listen to me now, please,” I said, putting my tablet into its spot in my jacket and placing my hands together to show him how serious I was. “I do want you to be as happy as possible at this hotel, but I do need you to understand that there are boundaries.”
Reggie stared at me in shock. I was sure that nobody had ever confronted him like this, but I was holding myself back. I had to remind myself to stay as professional as I could, while simultaneously making sure that he got the picture.
“I have room service on the way with lunch,” I continued. “But I need you to understand that there are limits to what I can do for you, and how often I can intervene with minor issues.”
He didn’t seem to believe that his problems were ‘minor issues’, but right now, I didn’t care.
“I have a hotel full of guests to take care of, events to coordinate, and logistics to keep track of,” I reminded him, keeping my tone completely even and avoiding accusations. “I am hoping that you can understand how valuable my time is, and that, while I want to make your stay as comfortableas possible, I do need to ask that you keep your requests as reasonable as they can be.”
