AllFreeNovel
Share Us
2
The Westcott Hotel was about three blocks from Stucky's. It had been in Cleveland for over a century and was the epitome of class. It was fully updated in the mid-nineties, but still had the feel of a 1900's turn-of-the-century hotel.
Many businessmen visiting Cleveland stay at the Westcott, and that means a lot of business for Stucky. However, some businessmen also lived there during the week in suites that looked more like luxury apartments.
Room 1100 is the penthouse suite of the Westcott. Calling it a suite would be an injustice as it was more like a 3,000 square foot house on top of a hotel.
Cara parked her scooter out front where Henry, the doorman, could watch over it for her. Cara knew every doorman in the city by name, and they would do anything for her. She was always pleasant to them and even brought them free food from time to time.
Cara has a way of making everyone she meets feel like they matter. That's why she does so well at her job and is also why Stucky is dreading the day that he has to say goodbye to his best employee when she graduates from college in nine months as a member of the Cleveland State University Class of 2007.
"Penthouse level please," Cara asked the elevator operator with a smile.
"No problem," said the operator, whose name tag read “Manny”.
It was an old-fashioned elevator, the kind with a brass handle that actually requires an operator to run. Inside, soft music played in the background while Cara and the operator shared pleasantries.
"Good luck…" said the operator as Cara exited the elevator.
"Thanks…?" Cara responded, caught off guard by his warning veiled as words of encouragement. Before she could ask what he meant, the doors had already closed.
It wasn't a long walk from the elevator to the front door of the penthouse, just long enough for Cara to grasp how beautifully decorated the exterior was. She could only imagine the interior.
When she pressed the doorbell button she could hear gentle sounds similar to that of a grandfather clock notifying the occupant that a visitor was at the door. As she waited, Cara wondered what type of person lived in such a magnificent place. Was it the president of a bank? A big-shot businessman? An actor?
The door cracked open, but not far enough to see inside.
"How much do I owe you?" asked a deep voice with a slight southern drawl from the other side of the door.
Without missing a beat, Cara replied, "Twenty-eight dollars and seventy-five cents."
She had been in the food delivery business too long to be surprised by someone not opening the door all the way. Naked men and women, drag queens, and even a dwarf dressed up like Abraham Lincoln were just a few of the crazy things that Cara had seen when the door opened on past deliveries.
"Here, take this and the rest is yours. Please just set the food down outside the door," said the voice as a fifty-dollar bill slid through the crack.
"Are you sure you don't want any change?" Cara asked as the door was shutting.
There was no reply.
Cara put the food down in front of the door and walked toward the elevator. She had received big tips before, but they always came at the holidays or when office parties signed off on the bill using the company charge card. This was just a random tip on a random day.
Why the big tip? New money, she figured. They are always the most generous, but also the first to end up broke. Was he in the mafia and afraid to show his face? Witness protection?
Inside the elevator, Cara asked the operator if he knew anything about the man in the penthouse.
He gave her an odd look as if he was waiting for a punchline. When he realized she was being sincere, he broke the awkward silence.
"You must not be a big baseball fan."
"Not really. Does he play for the Indians?"
"No, but he used to play against them sometimes," he chuckled as the elevator doors opened.
"What's so funny?" Cara prodded.
"Listen," he whispered, "I shouldn't even be saying anything about a tenant, but what I can tell you is that he was the best pitcher in baseball until he lost it. It was really sad, too, watching a guy fall apart like that. Can't blame him, though. I blame the coach for letting him play so soon after…"
The elevator operator stopped short, realizing that talking about a tenant was a violation of the one rule that could get him fired, even though what he was about to reveal to the delivery girl was common knowledge to anyone who watched SportsCenter in the fall of 2005.
As she exited, he continued, "Look, as far as who he is, or was, talk to any baseball fan and you'll hear more about Cooper Madison than you ever wanted to know."
It bothered her a little that while his name sounded familiar she still didn't know anything about him. Cara, too, was an athlete in high school. She earned all-conference honors her senior year at Berea High School in basketball and track, but she had never been much of a baseball fan. Too slow - not enough action.
Stucky's was so busy the rest of the night that she forgot all about asking Stucky or one of the other guys who Cooper Madison was. Besides, when she went home Cara shifted her attention to Statistics 390, the class she had a midterm on the following Monday.
