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“It does. And I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything right now. Let’s just all be very grateful that no one was killed or seriously hurt. We are all OK, and we will reassess,” Pavel said. It was a strangely tender moment for him. But I let the moment ride, and all three of us stood in silence as we assessed.
“Where are you idiots?!” Dominika came up on our flanks. She threw her arms around her brothers. “I have been looking everywhere for you two idiots.” Her tone was harsh, but I saw the tears in her eyes.
“How about water? Does everyone need water?” I said.
Ondrej smiled at me gratefully, and I left the scene to let them have their moment.
The guests gathered in clusters, their breaths visible in the cold night air as they exchanged worried glances and words. Half the people weren’t wearing coats and they shivered against each other. The once serene hotel now loomed like a foreboding giant, its alarms echoing into the night. I wrapped my arms around myself, the cold seeping through my dress, my mind a whirlwind of concern for Ondrej, the guests, and the fate of the hotel itself.
Finally, we were cleared to go back inside. The aftermath of the fire painted a scene of disarray and distress. The fire had spread from the kitchen into part of the lobby, but the smoke damage had an even wider reach. The main corridor, usually gleaming with polished wood and sparkling chandeliers, was now marred by soot and ashes. Smoke had blackened the elegant wallpaper, and water from the firefighters' hoses pooled on the patterned carpet, soaking into the rich fabric. The air was heavy with the acrid smell of smoke, mingling oddly with the lingering scent of luxury perfumes and polished wood.
Whispers and muted sobs filled the air, a stark contrast to the usual hum of contented chatter that graced the hotel. The staff, usually so poised and composed, moved quickly but somewhat aimlessly, their professional demeanor shaken by the unexpected chaos.
A young couple comforting each other, the woman's mascara streaked down her cheeks. A small child clung to his father, his eyes wide and unblinking in shock. Elderly guests were being gently guided to seats, their frail hands trembling as they clutched at the hotel robes draped hastily over their shoulders. Though few had been hurt, it has rattled everyone.
In the midst of it all, Ondrej stood out. His face, usually calm and in control, was a mask of concern and responsibility. He moved among the guests, offering words of comfort, his voice steady but his eyes betraying the storm of emotions within.
Ondrej finally came to me with two cups of hot tea. “How are you?” he asked.
“I think I should be asking you that. Are you holding up ok?”
He sighed. “Honestly, Sienna, I have no idea.”
We both laughed lightly.
“Is that damage bad?”
“Possibly. I won’t know everything until the inspector gets here. I don’t even want to think about what this means.”
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Morning dawned, and Ondrej felt like he was waking from a slow nightmare. Only it wasn’t a nightmare, it was his real life, and he had to pull himself together and face the harsh light of day.
The morning unfolded not with bright promise but with the somber toll of the plague’s bell—or at least that’s what it felt like.
After showering and caffeinating, he pulled on what he hoped was a professional yet relatable sweater and dark jeans, then made his way into the pit.
The front desk, usually a hub of cheerful greetings and fond farewells, looked like it had transformed into a storm center.
“What’s going on?” Ondrej asked Berco, who was fervently trying to keep everything in order.
“Calls are flooding in. A deluge of demands for refunds and anxious inquiries about future reservations.” He shook his head. “Basically, it’s a disaster right now.”
“What can I do?”
Berco laughed. “I think we need a staff meeting. We need a plan of action immediately.”
Ondrej nodded. “Do you know where Pavel is?”
“He just took a call from Greta Wolf. He’s in the office.”
Ondrej’s stomach roiled at the mention of Greta. He’d developed a Pavlovian response to her name.
Ondrej made his way through the hotel toward the office. In the shadowed corridors of the hotel, whispers bloomed like mushrooms in the dark among the staff. Ondrej just tried to ignore it. Fueling his anxiety and fears wouldn’t help anything. He needed to stay strong. Stay focused.
Pavel was in the office, ensconced in the sepia glow of the ancient lighting. He pressed his finger to his lips to indicate silence as Ondrej entered.
