Chapter 26
Good luck with the press thing. You’ve got this!
Message from Kate to Henry
Kate
I sat in the break room at The Darlington watching the press conference that was taking place just a few rooms away.
One of the local channels was broadcasting it live, as if it were a sporting event.
I clung to Henry’s every word. He announced which organisation the gala would be raising money for this year and then handed the mic over to a woman wearing large glasses and a colourful jacket.
She had friendly brown eyes and a broad smile.
Her name was displayed at the bottom of the screen: Matilda Gallagher, chairwoman of the Hope Harbour foundation in London.
She introduced herself and started talking about the organisation, but I only had eyes for Henry, who had taken a step back.
Unsurprisingly, he looked phenomenal in his dark suit.
Knowing what was concealed under his jacket and shirt only made it better.
Our conversation last night had kept me awake for a while, and when I’d woken up this morning, the first thing I’d done was reach for my phone and reread our messages to make sure I hadn’t dreamed our exchange.
The door to the break room swung open and Giulia came in.
Her gaze swept the room and finally landed on me.
I was ready to be admonished for sitting around instead of working—I’d been desperate to watch the press conference, even though my lunch break had ended half an hour ago.
But Giulia seemed more stressed than angry. “Kate, I’m glad you’re here!”
I smiled. “Hi. Is everything OK?”
“I really need your help. Can you clean room 316 right away? Mr. Fleming checked in half an hour ago and complained that the bathroom wasn’t properly clean. We’d move him, but he insisted on his regular room.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Giulia sighed with relief. “Thank you, you’re a gem. Please apologise to him again on behalf of the hotel, and tell him that lunch at Darlington Dining is on us. I’ve reserved a table for him. He can wait there while you’re cleaning the room.”
I nodded and made my way out. I could watch the press conference later. Or, better yet, Henry could tell me about it. I took the lift up to the third floor and got a cleaning cart from the housekeeping room. When I arrived at room 316, I rang the doorbell and put on my friendliest smile.
The door was opened by an older man of around fifty with thinning black hair. He was wearing a suit, and the buttons on his jacket strained over his belly as if he’d been indulging a little too much lately. He scowled at me.
“About time,” Mr. Fleming snapped.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” I said, although I had arrived as quickly as I could. “I apologise sincerely on behalf of The Darlington for any inconvenience caused. I’d like to clean your room, if that’s OK. You can enjoy a complimentary lunch at Darlington Dining in the meantime.”
Mr. Fleming grunted and pushed the door open wider.
He didn’t step aside, so I had to squeeze past him to get in, my arm brushing his chest as I rolled the cart into the room behind me.
He sat down on the bed to put on his shoes as I started working.
Instead of leaving when he had finished tying his laces, Mr. Fleming remained seated.
I could feel his eyes on me, watching me through the open bathroom door.
His gaze wasn’t controlling, though, but lascivious.
Like he was touching my bum and breasts with his eyes.
I didn’t mind at all when Henry looked at me like that, but now it made me shudder.
“Are you new at The Darlington? I’ve not seen you before,” Mr. Fleming piped up suddenly.
I had no desire to talk to him, but I put on my friendliest smile anyway. “Yes. I’ve been working for the hotel since the beginning of the month. But don’t worry, I’m aware of the high standards here, and I’ll make sure to clean the bathroom to your satisfaction.”
“I really hope so.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him stand and come towards me. His gaze seared my skin.
He stopped a few steps away and watched me spray cleaner onto the water-stained tap. “How does a pretty girl like you end up working at The Darlington?”
It was a strange question. “I needed the job,” I said, concentrating on polishing the tap until it gleamed. If I didn’t engage in the conversation, perhaps Mr. Fleming would get bored and leave.
“What’s your name?”
“My name’s Kate, sir.”
“Kate,” he repeated in a guttural tone, moving even closer. The bathrooms in The Darlington were spacious, but when Mr. Fleming stood next to me, this one suddenly felt tiny. “You’re very attractive, Kate.”
My shoulders tensed. It wasn’t an innocent compliment. There was something threatening about it that turned my stomach. I’d naively believed that I was safe at The Darlington, but I wasn’t safe from arseholes anywhere. I swallowed hard. “Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Fleming didn’t move, but remained standing very close to me. His harsh scent cut through the cleaning spray—a combination of sweat and too much cologne, which intensified the uneasy feeling in my stomach.
Mr. Fleming lowered his voice. “What do you say, Kate—I forfeit my complimentary lunch, and you give me a personal apology?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when, without warning, Mr. Fleming’s clammy fingers touched my chin. He forced my head up to meet his gaze. The pressure of his fingers was deeply unsettling.
“Let me go, please.” I barely recognised my own voice.
If we’d been on the street, I’d have defended myself and kicked Mr. Fleming in the balls without hesitating.
But we were in The Darlington, and he was a hotel guest. I didn’t want to cause trouble or make things difficult for Henry.
He had enough going on. “I just want to do my job.”
“And I just want you to be a good girl.” Mr. Fleming ran his thumb over my lower lip.
His fingers smelled just as disgusting as the rest of him.
“You’ll like it. I promise. Anyway, this is how things are done here at The Darlington, isn’t it?
” Mr. Fleming laughed as if he’d said something funny. Bile rose in my throat.
“There’s a table reserved in your name at the restaurant,” I said, trying to talk myself out of the situation. Perhaps Giulia would come and check on me if Mr. Fleming didn’t show up. But he didn’t move, not even to relax the grip of his fingers on my chin.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Please, just let me clean.”
“As soon as we’re done here,” Mr. Fleming said, his free hand reaching for the waistband of his trousers, which had a telltale bulge at the crotch.
“I’ll scream if you don’t let me go,” I threatened.
Mr. Fleming laughed derisively. The sound went through me.
“If you scream or try anything else, I’ll file a complaint against you.
I’m sure you know how important it is to The Darlington that its guests are happy.
It would be a shame if you lost this new job you need so badly. So pull yourself together.”
I raised my chin. My confidence was an act, hopefully a convincing one. “No.”
“You’re pretty sassy, aren’t you?”
“And you’re overstepping the line,” I said, feigning more courage than I felt.
I didn’t want to lose my job. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t hungry.
I had a roof over my head, and I had friends and a shot at a future.
I didn’t want to lose those things, but I also couldn’t let a bastard like Mr. Fleming strip me of my dignity.
“I’ll show you overstepping the line,” Mr. Fleming hissed.
His expression, overly friendly a moment ago, darkened.
He let go of my chin and placed his hand on my shoulder.
His fingers dug into me painfully hard as he forced me to my knees.
It was clear what he expected of me. I didn’t know if it was pain, disgust, or fear that drove me to let go of the rag I’d been holding and reach for the cleaning spray next to the sink.
I didn’t stop to think before spraying Mr. Fleming right in the face.
He screamed and released his grip to rub at his eyes.
I didn’t waste any time. I squeezed past him and fled from the room.
“You nasty little slut!” I heard him call, but his enraged voice faded when the door to his room shut behind me.
I hurried down the corridor without turning back and pressed the lift buttons in a panic until the gleaming doors opened and I was safe.
Pressing the button for the first floor, I leaned back against the cool metal wall.
My breath was jagged, and my entire body was trembling.
Regret flooded me, twisting my stomach into knots. What had I done?
“Fuck,” I said under my breath.
Maybe I had just jeopardised my job at The Darlington.
Mr. Fleming was probably calling reception to complain at this very moment, and rightfully so.
I’d sprayed him in the face with cleaner.
He had deserved it, but I was sure he would omit how he had harassed me.
Perhaps I should go straight to Giulia and beat Mr. Fleming to it.
But would she believe me? Mr. Fleming was a well-respected and loyal guest at the hotel, and I was a nobody.
Expendable. Even if Giulia believed me, would that help me if Mr. Fleming threatened to go public?
The Darlington couldn’t afford more bad press, not on my account.
God, Henry would be so disappointed.
Hot tears welled up in my eyes, but I willed them away. I didn’t want to cry now. I knew if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I had work to do. As long as I still had a job.