Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
The following morning, I go into work to fill out the incident report. Bob Mackey is the hotel manager and my boss, and I head to his office once I’ve completed the document.
“What do you mean the guy disappeared?” Bob scans my report.
He faces his computer screen and taps something.
“Nobody named Simon Cheng checked into this hotel yesterday, but there’re several Chengs arriving today for this weekend’s event.
None of them are named Simon, though. Maybe he was visiting someone last night—you didn’t see him entering a room? ”
“I told you no, I didn’t.” I pull in an easy breath. “Like I wrote in the report, by the time I rounded the corner, Simon was nowhere in sight.”
Bob pops out of his chair and rounds the desk. “Simon?” One thin eyebrow hikes high on his forehead. “That sounds a bit personal.”
Refusing to let Bob insinuate anything about me, or Simon, I stare straight into his eyes. “What are you trying to say?” I demand.
“I’m not saying anything.” He holds both hands up, palms toward me, and steps back. “I just want to make sure this Simon doesn’t sue the hotel for any injury caused by that damn elevator.”
“When is the elevator guy coming?” I ask, feeling a bit out of sorts. Simon could have gotten hurt, or worse.
“They canceled on us for this morning, and that’s twice now.
But after much bitching, they’re rescheduled for this afternoon.
We have the dance group arriving here later today—now that I know what happened with Simon, the repair tech can’t get here soon enough.
I don’t want any more incidents like last night,” Bob says nervously, patting at his leg with an open palm.
“Do you want me to close down that elevator until the tech guy comes?” I ask, wishing Bob would. “That will prevent any guests from getting hurt.”
“No. We need to keep it open. I don’t want anyone complaining about the wait going up to their rooms.”
Seems to me that’s asking for more trouble. Those doors are an accident waiting to happen. But I keep my mouth shut on those thoughts. “Okay,” I relent.
“Just keep an eye out tonight—if you see that Simon, please get his information and have him sign the release form. And thanks for agreeing to work extra hours during this conference. It will be good to have more security on site.” He sighs, glancing down at his watch.
“I can’t believe it’s almost noon and I’m still here.
I was supposed to leave by eleven. My husband is going to kill me. ” Then Bob shoos me out of the office.
With nothing else to do at the hotel before my double shift tonight, I head back home, where an exciting afternoon of laundry and cleaning awaits me.
By five, I’ve tidied my apartment, done the laundry, and had a good nap. I even had time to put on a bit more makeup than usual and style my hair before heading to work for six.
“Hi, Sandra. We’re not usually working together.”
Sandra looks away from her computer screen to greet me.
“Hi, Melissa. Yeah, I’m usually leaving as you’re coming on.
Not that we’ll have time to chat tonight, though—it’s been cra-zy!
Hotel’s full. Just wait until you see their dresses!
And the men in their tight pants…” She fans herself as we both laugh, and then she goes back to work.
I head to the elevator bank to begin my rounds. The stupid elevator must have been fixed, because the door opens calmly and the ride to the second floor is smooth.
I step off the elevator and head toward the Portsmouth Ballroom. As I get closer, I find myself in the midst of several dancers dressed in sparkly garments, warming up with their partners.
One couple catches my attention right away.
Both male, they are equally handsome—and Sandra was correct about their pants.
The way they move within each other’s space, I swear they are making love, not dancing.
The fluidity of their bodies is poetic. And how they look at each other makes my heart pound to a jealous beat.
I can see the love and admiration in their eyes, and it fills me with envy.
“Aren’t they gorgeous together?” a male dancer next to me says with a sigh. “I can only wish.”
“Me too,” a woman dressed in a spangled mini dress concurs breathily.
“What’s the name of the dance they’re performing?” I ask, not able to take my eyes off the men. It looks like the tango, but I’m not sure, since dancing has never been my thing. I think I’m the only Latina who can’t dance.
“The tango.” The male dancer waggles his brows. “It’s the dance of love.”
“I’m sure it is.” Then an image of the shoes Simon dropped flashes in my head. “Hey, I have a question. Do you by chance know a Simon Cheng who’s a part of this conference? He’s Asian, about five nine. Very handsome.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell. But this is only Thursday and it’s my first time attending this conference so I haven’t met many people yet,” the man says as he extends a hand with a flourish.
“Ooh, gotta run. Darlene, are you ready?” The woman nods, takes his extended hand and they rush into the ballroom.
I’m not sure what the guy meant by all that, but if I’m right, I’ll see Simon at this event. And hopefully, he’ll want to talk to me. Then maybe…