Page 18 of The Hotel Manager


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“Well, at least I got to go inside this mysterious hotel. And meeting hot stuff was just a bonus.” Ainsley beams like she just spent the day at Disney World.

I’m not going to say this out loud. But I kind of enjoyed seeing him again myself.

MASON

I can’t believe she just showed up here. I figured after the ordeal the other day she would stay away as far as she could. I guess I underestimated my little fake massage therapist, which is something I rarely do. Something about her has me intrigued, but I already know I can’t let those pesky feelings influence me. I have to forget about her, but not before I make sure she’s safe, and that starts by eliminating the threat.

I think I’ve let my visitor marinate long enough. Like a hunk of meat, soaking in the juices he’s been submerged in these past few days. In the end, that’s all he is. Useless meat. A bag of organs.

But he might be useful, hence the reason for keeping him around. I have no doubt he considers himself a tough guy. Thugs like him always do. They’re all bluff and bluster, throwing their weight around, taking pleasure in terrorizing those smaller and weaker than they are. And it’s never their idea, these terrible things they do. It’s always at the bidding of someone higher up, someone with true power and influence. They’re nothing but tools.

Though typically, tools don’t enjoy the work they do. Far too many men like the one I’m about to visit take genuine enjoyment from their work. I haven’t met this Dave person yet, but I would not be surprised if he falls into the latter category.

No judgment from me. I’ve enjoyed my work more than once. I’m going to enjoy this, for example.

Griffin stopped him miles from Teagan’s apartment building. They were

in enough of a hurry that he ran a red light. They weren’t taking her out for something to eat. This was not a happy little afternoon out for these guys.

From what I’ve gleaned these past few days, good old Dave isn’t such a tough guy once he’s been stripped of everything he’s accustomed to. The absence of color, sunlight, human contact, and the simple privilege of using a bathroom rather than a bucket in the corner of the room make even the toughest, most disciplined soldiers lose their grip before long, and Dave is not in their league.

My lips twitch in anticipation as the elevator descends to the eleventh floor. A soft chime signals my arrival, and I step out into the hall once the doors glide open with a soft woosh.

Tank stands outside the locked door and nods in greeting when I approach. “He been fed this morning?” I ask. He nods again, then steps aside so I can see the tray Dave slid through the opening at the bottom of the door. The white plate looks like he licked it clean, and the white utensils might easily have come out of a dishwasher. I guess when you have nothing else to do, you make a big deal of the few tasks you’re allowed. “I won’t be long.”

Tank slides the key into the lock, and I bite back a grin when I imagine the way my guest’s heart must leap at the sound. Something different. Something new.

I open the door, and the first thing that hits me is the smell of what’s coming from the white bucket in the far corner of the room. Tank follows me inside, takes the bucket, and leaves to empty it so I can turn my full attention to the man crouched in the corner. The thin, rough hospital gown he wears is stained with sweat at the neck and under the arms, turning the stark white to a muted gray.

“My, it’s bright in here, isn’t it?” I look around, whistling softly, as Tank closes the door and leaves us in the pure white room. There’s no furniture in the space, which measures fifteen feet on all sides and was painted so expertly, that there isn’t so much as a scratch or a crack to break the effect of floating in nothingness after enough hours spent staring at the walls. “I can’t imagine it’s easy to sleep with all this light.”

He lifts his head, and I savor the absolute desperation radiating from his bloodshot eyes. “Please...” He licks his chapped lips and swallows, grimacing as he does. He’s had enough water to stay alive, but no more than that.

“Please? What are you pleading for?” I stand in the center of the room beneath one of the fluorescent lights that glares around the clock, leaving not so much as a shadow in the blinding white room. My dark blue suit is the only color he’s seen since being deposited here.

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