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By the order of Xa Shiraq, Miss Amanda Buchanan is appointed general manager of the Oasis Hotel at Fisa, commencing at 3 o’clock on...
The date followed, and beneath the date was the signature of Jebel Haffa.
Her hand trembled at the import of that briefly stated command. Her eyes flew to the wall clock. It was exactly three o’clock. Clockwork precision. A little masterpiece of organisation and planning, everything accounted for.
‘Your new assistants will arrive within the hour.’
Her gaze swung back to the man who served Xa Shiraq with such unswerving commitment to his orders. He did not ask her whether she would take the job. He knew she would.
‘Kozim, you will accompany these two gentlemen to their respective offices in order to clear their desks,’ was his next command.
Amanda watched them go, their numb disbelief equalled only by her own.
‘You have two minutes to effect a temporary reorganisation.’ This command was directed at her, galvanising her attention. The black eyes glinted with unyielding purpose. ‘Then you will escort me to the Presidential Suite.’
‘Very well, sir,’ Amanda said with all the aplomb she could muster. She had to think quickly. The front desk had to be restaffed. The rest could wait.
She dialled the office secretary. ‘Please come and fill in at the front desk,’ she commanded. The man in front of her, listening to what was going on, was ruthless.
She met resistance. ‘That’s not in my job description.’
‘If you’re not here in one minute you won’t have a job.’
‘Mr Arnold said...’
‘Mr Arnold has been relieved of all duties.’
Amanda put the receiver down. Next was housekeeping. She organised butler service for the Presidential Suite. She commandeered an affable young waiter for the front desk in case the secretary didn’t turn up.
There was something else she had to do. She had to find out the name of the man in front of her, and what his connection was to Xa Shiraq.
Amanda headed for the computer. ‘What name will I use for your reservation, sir?’ she asked sweetly.
‘Complimentary Upgrade,’ he replied laconically.
Amanda could play word games too. Some boldness was called for if she was to get what she wanted. ‘Very good, sir. That’s no trouble, sir. First name is Complimentary, surname is Upgrade.’ She typed the letters out on the keyboard, glanced up at him to see how he took that.
A quirk at the corner of his mouth told her he found it rather droll.
‘Your reservation is complete, sir. I’m now ready to escort you to the Presidential Suite.’
He looked at his wristwatch. ‘That’s very good, Miss Buchanan. You had ten seconds to spare.’
‘In that case, sir, I’ll use the time to assemble the paperwork relating to this afternoon’s activities.’
Amanda hurriedly assembled all the letters lying around. The men had not bothered to take their dismissal notices with them. She deposited them in the bottom of the cashier’s register. They would be safe there until she could find time to get back to them.
‘Time’s up.’
There was no demand in his voice, nothing peremptory. Amanda knew as well as he did she had satisfied every demand he had placed upon her. So far. How long that would last...
‘Do you have any luggage?’
‘None that is of concern to the hotel.’
‘Thank you, Mr Upgrade,’ she challenged him. ‘It’s my pleasure to escort you to your suite.’
He looked at her in reassessment, decided to let the challenge go unremarked.
