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Best people?Hmm. Normally, that would mean me, though not necessarily working the cabins. But it could be an opportune moment to make my case to Elias. He knows I want back in management; he’s been stringing me along for months now.
I nudge Betsy who’s pulsing intrigued, dark brows at me. “We haven’t had a mystery shopper in ages,” she whispers.
I’ve only been at this hotel for five months. I kind of got fired from my previous job at a beautiful, historic hotel in Aspen, though after the way they treated me it’s gone down in my estimation by a million percent. And I saykind of got firedbecause I don’t think I did anything wrong, even though WM’s human resources thought otherwise.
I sigh, wondering who’s going to manage cabin one. It’s considered our most exclusive cabin, boasting the best views. But those cabins are getting tired-looking; they’ll need lots of investment in a year or two.
“Any questions?” Elias demands.
“When will we know the final roster?” Leo asks.
“By Thursday morning.”
That gives us two days. There’s no way Betsy will be fit by then, and if Leo peering at her over his shoulder is anything to go by, he knows it too.
“As an incentive, I will be doubling all points received via returned guest surveys, no matter the accommodation.”
A rumble of surprise has the noise levels escalating.
“Thank you,” he shouts over the clambering noise. “Dismissed.”
Emily stands, gesturing at Betsy and me to stay put as the room starts to empty. Betsy and I claim newly available seats, my legs and feet thanking me.
“This blows,” I offer, watching her fingers carefully smooth over her hair to ensure nothing’s out of place. In theory, Betsy shouldn’t even be here. The doctor told her she needed twelve weeks off. And maneuvering around a ski resort on crutches isn’t exactly a piece of cake—our jobs are physical.
Emily joins us, her long, blonde hair swaying at her shoulders. Aware of my previous role in management, she asks me, “Who do you think they are?”
The mystery shoppers could be from a multitude of options:Traveller, Condé Nast, In The Snow, and Ski Journalto name a few.
“It doesn’t matter, as long as they’re treated well and have the best time.”
My stomach growls so I head for the vending machines in the corner. “Do you want anything?”
“I thought you were trying to stop using that thing.”
“We all know my willpower is non-existent.”
Emily chuckles. “Willpower is overrated anyway. Think about all the fun we’d have missed out on if we had iron wills?”
I grin at her over my shoulder. That girl is wild, her partying lifestyle way beyond mine. And anyway, my recent exploits have seen me burned, so I’m trying to prove to my boss that I can behave.
Slotting money into the machine, I make my choice of candy while wishing I was back in Aspen getting take-out from my favorite cake shop.
“I’m going to go and see Maria,” Betsy announces, grabbing her crutches. “And then I’m going to try and get a few minutes with Elias.”
Snack in hand, I head back to my seat. “You know I’m team Betsy, but you’re not physically well enough to be on your legs all day, making dinners and beds and being at guests’ beck and call.”
“I have to start working again, and two days of admin has already fried my brain.”
“Because you’re still in recovery. You should be doing short days at the minute.”
We exit into the hallway, cooking smells from the staff cafeteria filling my lungs as we make our way towards the elevators and the staff offices beyond.
I devour the candy, knowing I won’t get lunch for another two hours. “Do you want me to come with you? Leo might already be buttering up Maria. I can vouch for you. I’ll tell her that now you have pretty much four legs, you’re twice as fast as before.”
Betsy grins, flashing the gap between her two front teeth. “Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in laundry?”
Surprisingly, working the laundry is less gross than I thought. It’s not all cum-stained boxer briefs, but jam or honey or oil on a pretty dress. Getting rid of those, and other, stubborn stains leaves me stupidly satisfied. “Everyone went back. It’s fine.”
