Chapter 21
Back in my room, I still had ninety minutes before my meeting. I ran the bath, and as the warm bubbles embraced me, I revisited my morning with Corben. I was deeply satisfied with how our relationship had ended. It wasn’t nasty, and I didn’t feel like either of us had been hurt by our actions. Instead, it was as if I’d found treasure at the end of an epic journey.
The bath water was nearly cold by the time I stepped out. I wrapped the towel around myself, grabbed my diary, and sat at my kitchen table. I turned to the 25th of November, and at the top I wrote Corben Willis, Room 11.
As I wrote about our break-up, I didn’t feel one ounce of regret.
What we’d had was special, but it had to end. Corben and I didn’t have a future together, and I was glad I’d discovered this now.
I wrote in great detail about our sex. The wild passion where I’d tried but failed to take charge. I wrote about what he did with his finger and how it had felt weird and uncomfortable, yet at the same time, there’d been something tantalizingly erotic about it, too. As I finished off my diary entry, I thought about my intention to give Corben the best sex he’d ever had, and giggling, I wrote at the top of the page, Mission Complete.
With a contented sigh, I closed my diary and sat it on my side table. It was time to get ready for my meeting. As I dressed in conservative work clothes and put my unruly hair into a tidy bun, I felt strangely complacent about the meeting. It was out of my hands now, and I was confident I’d handle whatever was about to happen.
However, my confidence didn’t stop the butterflies attacking my stomach, and by the time I rode the elevator down to the lobby, it was difficult to swallow. The doors opened and there was still no sign of Needledick. I strode toward the boardroom, and although I was five minutes early, I knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Richard greeted me with a smile, as did Romana and Brandi. It was a stark contrast to my last meeting with them, especially as neither of the Japanese gentlemen were there.
“How was your shift?” Richard asked as he pushed the door so it remained half-open. He indicated for me to sit.
I cleared my throat. “It was a quiet night.”
“Is that good or bad?” Romana asked, her smile broader than it’d been moments ago.
“Well, a quiet night means the hotel is running smoothly. So, I guess it’s a good thing.”
“Good answer.”
I frowned at Richard’s response.
He put his hands together and leaned forward on his elbows. “We’ve transferred John to another hotel, and?—”
“What? When?”
“Effective immediately,” Romana said.
“Why?” I frowned on the outside, but inside me, I did my best dance moves ever.
“We’ve received several complaints about him.” Richard nodded at the other two ladies, and they nodded in return. “And quite frankly, after we spoke to you, we decided he was detrimental to the quality of our hotel.”
I swallowed and glanced around at them. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“We offered him a . . .” he looked to the ceiling as if searching for the perfect word. “Different position in our Tweed Heads hotel, however he declined.”
“Oh.” I had no idea what to say.
“So, as we’ve had such glowing reports about you in our guest surveys, we’d like to offer you John’s position as hotel manager.”
I covered my mouth and blinked at them, hardly able to believe my wish had come true. “Yes! I mean, oh my gosh. That’s amazing.”
“We thought you’d be pleased.”
“But . . .” My heart slammed into my chest at what I was about to say.
“Yes?” Brandi said.
“I’d like to make a request.”
“Of course.”
I swallowed. “I’d like to have at least one day off on the weekend.”
Brandi chuckled, and soon Romana and Richard chuckled too, and I had no idea if I’d blown the one and only promotion opportunity I’d ever had.
Finally, they stopped, and Richard tapped his hand on the table. “As the hotel manager, you will be in charge of the roster. You’ll be the one deciding who has what days off.”
I wanted to cry. I wanted to get up on the table and break out my fancy moves. I wanted to scream from the penthouse rooftop. This was the best outcome I could ever have asked for.
Tears of joy stung my eyes, and I forced them back. “In that case, I am truly honored that you’ve chosen me to look after your beautiful hotel. I accept and know in my heart that I won’t let you down.”
“We know you won’t.” Richard leaned forward to shake my hand. “Congratulations. From the surveys we’ve read, you deserve this one hundred percent.”
Brandi stood, as did Romana, and both the women shook my hand, too.
A bell tinkled outside, and Romana held up a finger. “Excuse me for a moment.” She strode to the boardroom door and walked out.
“So, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Richard said as Brandi sat back down. “What we’d like to do is give you Sunday night off, full pay of course, and ask that you start in your new position on Monday.”
Oh my god. Could this day get any better? “Sounds good to me.”
“Regarding your pay structure, we’d like to offer you an increase of nine thousand dollars per annum, and once the probation period of six months is over, if we’re all satisfied, we’ll increase it a further three thousand dollars per annum. Are you happy with that?”
An extra thousand dollars every month? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Suddenly, it hit me. As day manager, I’d lose my room. “I’d like to keep my apartment.” I blurted that out and instantly wanted to retract it. “I mean, I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve been living here for three years, and I love it. I’m willing to sacrifice some pay in order to keep it.”
Brandi and Richard looked at each other, and as my heart thumped, I wished I had Lolly’s mind-reading skills. Finally, Richard turned back to me. “We wondered if you’d ask that.”
“And?” I tensed and bit my lip so I didn’t blurt anything out.
“We’re willing to let you keep your apartment, if you’re willing to forego the pay increase. However . . .” He held up his finger, “we will readdress this in twelve months, as we may want to return your apartment back to the letting pool.”
“Thank you, that’s perfect. I accept.” In the back of my mind, I knew I should negotiate. But I didn’t want to. Everything they offered was over and above what I’d ever expected.
Romana reentered the room and once again left the door ajar.
“Wonderful. Brandi will draw up your contract and have it ready for you on Monday.” Richard stood, and I stood with him and held out my hand. We shook, and he smiled. “Oh, and by the way, don’t be late for your shift.”
I laughed. “Never.”
I shook hands with Romana and Brandi and left them in the boardroom. Knowing I didn’t need to watch out for Needledick’s dagger eyes had me floating across the lobby to the elevator. My grin dominated my reflection in the elevator mirrors as I rode it up to my floor.
At my apartment, I squealed, ran for the bed, and cheered as I dived face-first onto the covers.
“Yeeehaa,” I screamed. This called for a celebration, and it didn’t matter one bit that it was before midday.
I strode to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and a packet of corn chips from the cupboard, and took them out to the balcony. Breathing in the glorious sea breeze, I poured my wine to the very top of the glass.
I held the glass up to my spectacular panorama. “Cheers.”
The wine was delicious. My view was magnificent. My body still glowed with glorious after-sex vibes.
Life was spectacular.
My first week as manager of the Hot Horizon Hotel had been incredible. Brandi from the executive committee had been teaching me some of the processes, and the two of us got on as if we’d known each other for years. We laughed a lot, and her management style was like nothing I’d ever experienced. It was fun yet informative, gentle yet firm.
Bailey, the guy who had been covering my shift on my nights off, was offered my old position of night manager, and he accepted, so he didn’t need much training for the role. For the final piece in the staffing puzzle, the executive committee appointed a lady named Tracy from the Brisbane hotel to replace Bailey’s position as our shift relief officer, and so far, she was proving to be perfect.
I was certain the executive committee would think my transition into hotel manager had gone smoothly. And after some further negotiation, I’d sacrificed a reduction in pay to work alternating five- and six-day weeks. For the first time in my working life, this week I had two days off, Sunday and Monday.
Life couldn’t get any better.
At least that’s what I thought until just after I’d devoured a couple of macadamia cookies for morning tea, Mason Cole, the guitarist from Empire Angels, walked through the sliding glass doors with four other people. I recognized his brother and Zenon Justice, whose name I’d never forget.
But I was pretty sure the two women who’d walked in with the men were different to the last time. These two were skinny, too skinny, if you asked me. They both had long, straight platinum hair, loads of makeup, and were scantily clad. Both had tattoos, but nowhere near as many as the last two women had had.
As they approached the counter, I wondered if they were identical twins.
I had to remind myself that I shouldn’t know who they were because Mason only met Memphis last time. “Welcome to the Hot Horizon Hotel.”
“Thanks. We’re booked in for tonight. Zenon Justice is my name.”
“Thank you, Mr. Justice.” As the men handed over their identification, I noticed how tired they all looked and wondered if they’d been up all night. “What brings you to the Gold Coast?”
“We’re in a band, Empire Angels. We got a gig tonight.” Zenon was their spokesman. One of the girls squished up to his side, cocked her head at me, and chewed on her gum with smacking lips.
I had a feeling she was staking her claim as if I were a threat. I turned to the photocopier, stifling a laugh at the absurdity of the idea. Zenon had absolutely no appeal. Mason, on the other hand, with his stunning eyes the color of deep-sea ice and his delicious lips, was the man I had my sights on.
An idea hit me like a bolt of lightning. This was my first free Saturday night in years, and it was time I experienced Saturday nightlife like every other normal human being.
I wanted to have fun. I wanted to drink.
I wanted to watch Mason play guitar.
And if all that went to plan, I wanted sex with Mason Cole again, too.
Ideas flipped across my brain as I went through the motions of checking the band members into three rooms. I handed over their room cards, and as Mason ran his tongue over his plum-colored lips, I pictured that tongue gliding over my nipples.
A blaze of heat flashed up my neck, and I smacked the vision away before I self-combusted.
As they moseyed to the elevator, with each of the women owning their man by wrapping their arms around their waist, I fixed my eyes on Mason. He was the obvious outsider, and not just because he didn’t have a woman hanging off him. His clothing was classier, his hair was professionally styled, but most of all, while the others had a cocky, you-can’t-touch-me attitude, Mason had a confident professionalism about him that implied he was going places.
The second they vanished into the elevator, I grabbed my phone to send Lolita a text.
Hey, you got plans for tonight?
Just Hawaiian pizza and a DVD with the kids
I giggled, knowing full well what the implications of the Hawaiian pizza meant.
Fancy a night out with Memphis?
Fuck yeah!
Mason, that guitarist I told you about, is back. They’re playing at Surfers. Want to go?
Only if I get to dress up like Memphis
The idea of the two of us doing the Memphis disguise thing made my head spin.
Haha, OK. Want to meet here? We can go to dinner first.
Luv it. I’ll be there at 7
Fabbo. C U then