Chapter Three
Sage
He listened intently. “Certainly, Mr. Werner, I can’t guarantee what time it will arrive as the kitchen staff are all very busy this evening.
It’s that time of year, but I can assure you your request will be met as quickly as possible.
Please don’t hesitate to call again if you require anything else. Good evening.”
Sage disconnected. “Or should that be good morning?” he muttered. He hit send on the email he’d created, and then immediately clicked on the next flashing button on the phone panel, tapping the earpiece to receive the call. “Front desk, Sage speaking. How can I help you?”
“Is that you at the desk? I need housekeeping. I need them now.” The panic in the male’s voice was evident.
“Can I have your room number and name, please?” Sage asked calmly.
“Can’t you hear me? I need housekeeping. Now.”
“I am typing the request as we speak, sir. If I could just have your name and room number, please?”
“Newton Western. Room 424. There’s been a bit of a bother with the plumbing facilities.”
Sage screwed up his nose. “I am terribly sorry to hear that, sir,” he said quickly.
“I will add maintenance to the housekeeping request and do my best to get someone to your room as promptly as possible. Unfortunately, most of the staff are very busy this time of night as the hotel is full. However, we will endeavor to meet your request as quickly as possible. I have flagged your request as the highest priority.”
“They’d better get here quick. There’s stuff everywhere.”
Sage didn’t want to imagine what stuff the customer was talking about. He clicked the red button for priority request on the email and hit send. “The request is on its way, sir. Have a lovely rest of your night.”
Disconnecting the call, Sage rested his hands on the desk, taking in a few deep breaths. It was his second full night working by himself as the temporary front office receptionist for the graveyard shift, as it was jokingly called.
The first night he’d manned the desk alone had been quiet, just as Marty had told him it would be.
It turned out there were a few more departments – aside from the kitchen and housekeeping - that he was expected to liaise with.
But Sage wasn’t the judgmental type, and he picked things up quickly, creating a small routine for himself so he didn’t forget any steps necessary to process customer requests.
Answering the calls, Sage typed as the caller was making their request, sending the email as soon as the call ended.
Marty had said it was fine to answer calls, get a few requests, and send them all off at the same time, but Sage was more comfortable processing each call as it came in.
He was quietly confident that his method was working.
That was on night one. However, from the moment he walked in on night two, Sage could sense that things were different.
For one thing, Barry, the manager he was taking over from, looked decidedly harried.
"I am so glad you’re the type to come in early,” Barry said the moment Sage walked through the door.
“I desperately need a drink, a two-hour massage, and some chill time in front of my television, not talking to anyone.”
"Is everything all right?” Sage asked. He didn’t know Barry very well, but he felt it was polite to ask.
“I’m not sure if Marty told you,” Barry said as he reached for his coat and slung it over his shoulders, “But the next five days are the busiest time of the year for this hotel. I have been checking people in all day, and there are customers coming out of the woodwork wanting one request after another. It is enough to drive a man to drink.”
“It seems quiet now,” Sage said. The phone wasn’t ringing, and the lobby was empty. “I’ll do my best to take care of anything that crops up tonight.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. I was very pleased with how you coped last night,” Barry said.
He was already heading out the door. “Housekeeping said there’s about a twenty-minute delay in answering calls, and the kitchen has let us know most orders at this stage will take a minimum of half an hour.
Please be sure to advise the clients about that time delay when you take their requests. Have a nice evening.” And he was gone.
From the moment he’d put down his book bag, Sage hadn’t had a chance to sit down. He had stuffed his bag under the counter, and it was still there, hours later. The phone had started ringing the moment Barry had left, and it hadn’t stopped.
Glancing at the computer clock, he could see it was now twenty past three in the morning.
I haven’t even taken a break yet, he thought.
But the phone was quiet, so Sage sat down, sighing as he raised his feet, twirling his feet around at the ankles.
It was instant relief, just taking his feet off the floor. They were really sore.
Sage wasn’t used to being on his feet all night.
Marty had told him it was perfectly fine to sit down while working, particularly if he was just answering calls.
But Sage had had a couple of people come into the front reception desk – very late check-ins - and Sage felt it was only polite to be standing up to greet them. I’m glad for the chair now.
Reaching down under the counter, Sage reached into his bag, pulling out his “lunch.” He’d made a sandwich. His stomach wasn’t used to eating in the middle of the night, but with just over three hours still to go, Sage knew he should eat something.
“How are you coping with the madness?” George said from the front doors.
George, the same gargoyle who had winked at him, had turned out to be a relatively pleasant enough person, who seemed keen on being more friendly than Sage was comfortable with, but Sage took comfort in the large desk that stood between them.
“It’s fine. I think I’m covering everything that needs to be done.
Being busy definitely makes the time go faster.
” Sage took a quick bite of his sandwich, cucumber and roast beef.
Marty always told him he had the most ridiculous taste in sandwiches.
He would joke all the time, wondering why Sage didn’t go for burgers like regular people.
Sage found a sandwich easier to eat in public, and he preferred to consume foods he had made himself.
Although the smells of food coming from the ground-floor restaurant were very tempting.
I don’t have the budget to eat here, he reminded himself.
Not because he didn’t earn enough, it was just that Sage was exceptionally careful with his money.
Eating at a restaurant, when a homemade sandwich did the same job as a fancy meal as far as his body was concerned – that was money Sage didn’t need to spend.
He had barely gotten two bites into the second half of his sandwich when the phone started ringing again.
This time it was an outside line. Picking it up, Sage put on a smile.
Someone in his college communications class said that if a person was smiling as they answered a call, the caller could tell they were being friendly.
“Good morning, you’ve called the Regis Hotel. I’m Sage, from reception. How may I help you?”
“Have you got my booking?” A very loud, strident voice came through the phone. So loud in fact, Sage double-tapped his earpiece to reduce the volume. “It’s a booking for Diamant. What time are we expected?”
Sage’s fingers quickly flew over the keyboard, scanning the reservations. “I apologize, Mr. Diamant. Could you let me know what day it is you’re expected? I’m not seeing a reservation in that name any time in the next week.”
“Well, of course you wouldn’t see it, you stupid fool.
” Diamant was talking as if he had a huge audience, instead of a party of one on the other end of the call.
“I haven’t made the booking yet. I’m making it now.
Tomorrow night. Party of four. We’ll take the executive suite on the fifth floor. What time is check-in?”
Sage didn’t even have to check the reservation screen to know that the suite wasn’t available. “My apologies, Mr. Diamant, but the hotel is fully booked out until the second of January. Would you like to make a booking for that date?”
A growl came over the line. “How am I expected to attend the krakens’ party if I’m not due to arrive until the day after New Year’s Day? Do something, man. Swap some things around. Don’t you know who I am?”
Sage swallowed the lump in his throat. He really wasn’t keen on people speaking to him in such a confrontational tone, but he also couldn’t magically create a whole new room at the Regis Hotel just because somebody was yelling at him.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Diamant, but the hotel is absolutely full.
The earliest booking we have available is January the second.
For the particular suite you asked for, that’s not available until January fifth. ”
“Listen, you. I’m a personal friend of the owners. I have an invitation to their party. I demand you make me a booking, or I’m going to file a complaint about your behavior – don’t think that I won’t!”
Closing his eyes, Sage tried to focus on a calm he wasn’t feeling.
“As a personal friend of the owners, I would suggest you contact them directly to file your complaint, then, sir. Alternatively, the reception manager will be available at seven in the morning. For reference, for your complaint, my name is Sage. I’m the temporary reception clerk at the Regis Hotel.
My contract expires on January 1st, so I suggest you contact them before then.
“However, with regards to your booking request, the executive suite you mentioned on the fifth floor is booked until January 5th. We do have executive suites on the third or sixth floor that are available from January 2nd if you are happy to be accommodated there.” It’s not like I can offer you anything else.
“You’re telling me you can’t get me overnight accommodation on the night of the biggest party of the year? A party I have an invitation for?”
“I can’t take your booking as there are no rooms available, sir.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
Sage quickly muted his earpiece. Whoever was on the other end of the call clearly had an old rotary phone and had smashed the handset into the body of the phone. It was not pleasant.
“I’m not sure what I should do in this situation,” he said to George, who was still watching him from the door.
“Do I leave a note letting Barry know that Mr. Diamant called and that he’ll be filing a complaint about me?
Or should I leave his name and number so Barry can contact Mr. Diamant if a customer cancels? I didn’t think to even offer that.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. You would be amazed at how many of the guests claim to personally know the owners. The owners don’t give a shit about any of that. You’re handling things fine.”
“I should’ve offered to contact him if a cancellation came in.” Sage looked at his screen. He didn’t want to call back but…
“Honestly, don’t worry about it. This happens every time the bosses have a party – sensible people make their bookings early, and no one is going to cancel.
Face it. We haven’t got the room here at the moment to squeeze in a mouse shifter, let alone anybody else.
Mr. Diamant is just another one of our bosses’ friends who thinks they are entitled to anything they demand with the click of their fingers.
They are not your concern, so I wouldn’t worry about it. ”
“Are you sure about that?” Sage was still mentally kicking himself for forgetting about possible cancellations.
“We don’t get cancellations here.” George laughed. “It’s clear you haven’t worked in hospitality before.”
“No. No, I haven’t. Research labs aren’t run anything like this hotel.”
George just laughed as he went out to open the car door for somebody who had pulled up outside the entrance.
Moments later, there was a flurry of activity as three people - it looked like two fae and a vampire from what Sage could tell - stumbled in, bottles of wine still in their hands, as they made their way to the elevator.
There were a couple of shrieks as the elevator door closed.
Shaking his head, Sage checked the screen to make sure that the mess in room 424 had already been dealt with. The job was now highlighted in green, and Sage saw that the housekeeping staff had cleared that job while he was on the call with Mr. Diamant. Thank goodness for that.
His appetite gone, Sage took what was left of his sandwich and stuffed it back in his bag. The night shift hours were catching up with him, and he was really tired. A check of the clock let him know he had two hours left to go before Barry would be back in to relieve him.
At least by working the night shift, it meant Sage had the perfect excuse to sleep through the day, which in turn gave him an equally good excuse for ignoring any calls or messages on his phone – he muted it while he was sleeping.
His parents had tried to call a couple of times, and Sage had no interest in talking to them.
They clearly wanted money – they had probably wiped themselves out financially over Christmas, as was common for them, and were looking for a handout.
The only time they ever get in touch with me at all is when they want something, Sage thought glumly.
But still, a workplace, even one Sage was committed to temporarily, was not the place for thinking about the shit show of his early life.
He’d come a long way from when Marty’s mom was the only person who ensured he was fed.
The phone started ringing again. Sage pressed the button on the phone pad and tapped his earbud.
“Front desk, Sage speaking. How may I help you this morning?”