Arlo #3
I tightened the buttons of my cuffs and collar so my clothes didn’t slide around.
Otherwise, my outfit was clean and unwrinkled, the suit was expensive but without ego, and my hair was neat without being stiff.
In short, I appeared professional and respectful, but without airs or coldness.
Precisely the sort of person I needed to be to speak with the grieving, hold their hands, and hear their stories.
Which was good, because I could hear voices coming from the foyer, which meant it was time for the storm to come rolling in.
The vast lobby of the family hotel could not have been more different from the funeral home.
It was the middle of summer, and tourist season was in full force, dragging people from all over the country to Cresson Point.
It was a metropolitan city, not as large or flashy as Chicago, Miami, or New York City, but a city all the same, so it had plenty to see and experience.
“Excuse me,” I said softly as I stepped around a woman doing her best to control what I assumed was her son.
Clearly, the boy disagreed, if his loud protests and fight to get out of his mother’s grip were any indication.
No doubt if freed, he would run through the lobby, free-spirited and wild, not caring what kind of fool he made of himself or his parents.
The thought made me smile and think of a few of my siblings.
The living ones and the dead one.
Smiling at her when she shot me a look of apology, I turned my attention back to the lobby and watched the multitude of unfamiliar faces.
I had spent the last half of my childhood in the hotel, yet it wasn’t the oddest place I had lived, but would forever remain the best. At first, it had been strange, having a room in what had been part of the original building, blocked off from the public and staff.
Not just that, but because part of that time had been spent in public areas.
Some kids grew up in neighborhoods with adults or other kids, but here, I had known tourists and businesspeople from around the world.
I spotted a familiar figure and stood to the side as Moira talked with a guest. From what I could hear, he was furious about a bedbug in his bed and waved his phone in her face so erratically I’d be surprised if she could even make out what he was showing her.
The clouds in Moira’s eyes told me the guest wasn’t just angry; he had been belligerent and rude.
The guest wouldn’t, but those who did know my adopted sister knew that was a dangerous combination, especially if the man had been hostile toward one of Moira’s employees.
In all fairness, I was surprised her twin brother, Mason, wasn’t around to watch the show.
He had always said he loved the moments leading up to her putting her foot down because she got a ‘little twitch in her temple.’ He didn’t mean literally, but if you watched, you could see her temper grow and her patience fade to dust.
“Sir,” she began again, and he cut her off.
If the flash in her eyes was any indication, that was not the first, second, third, fourth, or even fifth time he had done it.
The customer service facade dropped as she thrust her chin forward, rearing up to her admirable height, she spoke in a far sharper tone.
“Sir, that is a beetle, do you hear me? A beetle. Not a bedbug, a beetle. We’re at the height of summer, and bugs of a million varieties get into buildings, including this hotel, and yes, into your room.
Now maybe, just maybe I would have been willing to ignore what is either your idiocy or your paper-thin attempt to get a discount, but that chance was stabbed in its sleep the moment you decided to be an ass to one of my employees and then proceeded to treat me like an incompetent idiot. ”
The man stopped, his phone drooping, and he began to rally his anger again, going even redder than before. “This is how you talk to a paying guest?”
“This is how I’m choosing to speak to a belligerent ass who thinks bluster and aggression are a good substitute for actual guile and wit,” she threw back at him.
“So you’re going back to your room, toss the beetle into the trash, and enjoy the rest of your stay.
Or you can leave and find somewhere else to stay. ”
“I have never had such poor treatment in my life!”
“With your charming personality, I find that hard to believe. Pick one, sir. I have other things to do today.”
“Fine, we’re leaving, and if you think we’ll be paying, then you’re insane.”
“I’m many things, but it is currently eight, almost nine at night. By hotel policy, you’ll pay for this night whether you stay or check out.”
“I will not be paying, and this kind of shit is exactly what makes you lose business.”
“Sir, I’ve been working here for a long time, dealing with people like you. With that in mind, look around and see how badly our business has been. Now, are you leaving tonight or will you wait till the morning?”
“We’re leaving! And we are not paying,” he snarled, getting closer to her.
I took a step forward, but she glanced to her left, and I relaxed.
Sitting at a nearby table was her twelve-year-old son, Micah, but more relevant, sitting across from him, her former boyfriend and Micah’s father, Jace.
Sitting next to him was our adopted brother, Dominic.
Both men were large in height and muscle mass.
And where Dominic was laid-back and prone to a joke, Jace was easily angered and bad-tempered.
Yet they were extremely protective of what they considered theirs.
They were more than capable of violence, with Jace being a cop and Dominic doing quite well in professional MMA fighting.
Moira looked back, putting the tips of her fingers on the guest’s chest and pushing him back. “Sir, if you get closer, I will take it as a threat. I’m capable of handling myself if that’s the case. If I’m not, I have two rather large men sitting right there willing to make up for it.”
Jace looked up at her words, while Dom had been watching from the moment the man’s voice had been raised. Jace scowled. “Do I need to get up?”
“A good question,” Moira wondered.
The guest deflated immediately because no one needed to see Jace or Dom show how dangerous they looked.
I didn’t think he intended to threaten her, let alone actually try to hurt her.
He was, however, the type who was willing to use the idea of potential violence to bully his way into getting what he wanted.
The problem was that Moira had demonstrated why that was a bad idea.
The guest seemed to agree and turned away, muttering words I couldn’t make out, but Moira rolled her eyes at them.
She waited until he was gone before returning to the front desk and catching Maureen’s attention. “Charge him for the night before he gets over his bruised ego and thinks ahead enough to lock his card. Then call Travis up here so you can take your break.”
Maureen nodded with a grateful smile. Moira spotted me, and her anger disappeared. “Well, hello, stranger. As usual, I didn’t see you lurking there.”
“It’s not lurking when I’m standing out in the open,” I said, letting her hug me.
She wasn’t usually affectionate, but for reasons I couldn’t explain, she had always been warm and affectionate toward me.
I wasn’t affectionate, but wasn’t against it if someone wanted to be.
“And don’t tell him I said it, but Mason is right, it is a joy to watch you work. ”
She sighed. “Mom has him working behind the bar right now since the bartender had to call in. Otherwise, he’d be underfoot and causing trouble.”
Jace huffed. “He was your problem before I came along. I’m not going to save you just because he’s being an ass.”
Micah snorted. “What are you fighting about now?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“You sound too much like your uncle.”
Dom laughed. “That’s not the same thing as saying he’s wrong, just so you know.”
“Don’t start,” Jace growled.
In all fairness, from someone as big as Jace, who admittedly had a mean face, it would have been threatening to most people.
Even if you ignored the fact that he and Dom were about the same size and Dom was more experienced in fighting, there was one other thing that made any hope of Jace intimidating the family ridiculous.
..Jace was a soft touch. He wasn’t hard on the outside with a squishy inside.
The man was grumpy, angry, and ill-tempered inside and out, but he had a good heart.
For the past couple of years, as part of the family, he’d shown a quiet but rock-solid devotion toward all of us, even those he didn’t interact with much.
“It’s really hard to even think about flinching when I’ve seen you swoon at my brother,” Dom remarked, plucking a fry from the container in front of him with a smirk. “Oh look, here comes the ‘I’m too manly and angry to swoon’ protest.”
Jace glared at him before turning his attention back to Micah and tapping the table next to the tablet. “Back to your schoolwork.”
Micah huffed. “It’s summer, aren’t I supposed to be having fun?”
“That’s what normal kids are doing. You, however, have decided you don’t want to be normal even with all the damn opportunities you’ve been given,” Jace informed him in a dry tone.
“And you’re the one who wanted to sign up for these classes.
I don’t care if we can afford to pay for it; letting it go to waste is stupid. And you’re weird, not stupid.”
“Of course I’m weird. Look at my family,” Micah protested as he resumed what he was doing.
Moira turned back to me with a sigh. “It’s hard to argue with him when he’s right.”