Surrendering His Heart

by David Horne

  “I’m looking for Duncan Chambers,” George announced when he arrived at the front desk. He placed the palms of his hands on the clean countertop. The young woman continued to smile.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied. “Mr. Chambers is not at the hotel today.”

  Crestfallen, George asked, “Do you know if he’ll be back today?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Chambers has a busy schedule. We don’t know when he will return to the hotel.”

  George waited a moment. He looked to the all-seeing eye of the camera mounted to the wall behind the front desk associate. Her gold badge had Barbara engraved on it. Under the name, much to George’s chagrin, it read: Front Desk Manager.

  “Barbara,” George started. “I don’t expect you to know who I am.”

  “You’re George Maxwell.” She had somewhat cut him off but added a wide and friendly grin. “I’ve been instructed to schedule a meeting with Mr. Chambers at your earliest convenience.”

  “Are you the new front desk manager?” He didn’t want to see the title under her name.

  Barbara tucked her hands behind her back. She stood up straight, shoulders back. Her professional demeanor was impossible to miss. “I’ve come up from a hotel Mr. Chambers owns in Manhattan. He asked me to come up as a favor until he sorts out the logistics of this hotel.”

  George had nothing to say. It was an utterly rounded delivery that left no angle to exploit. He frowned instead and lowered his voice. “Is Ashley in the office?”

  Instead of a vocal answer, Barbara’s manicured fingernail extended and tapped on the manila envelope in George’s grasp.

  “Is Florence McAlester still at the hotel?” he wanted to know.

  She smiled politely and said. “I’m sorry, sir, we’re not allowed to provide non-guests with information about anyone staying at the hotel. If Mrs. McAlester in room 304 has you on a guest list, you are welcome to call her from the courtesy phone.” Barbara winked as she opened her palm in the direction of a desk phone.

  Tempted to call room 304, George instead backed away from the counter. The courtesy phone hadn’t worked in years. Ashley had informed him the owners were cutting back costs and the phone wasn’t necessary for long-term guests.

  George held the manila envelope and stared at it. His first and last name scrawled across the surface in permanent marker. The penmanship was orderly but not familiar. He waited a long moment. The hallway to the elevators was empty, the lobby empty of guests. He was alone with Barbara and had nothing to say to the woman.

  “Mr. Maxwell,” Barbara called as George turned to leave the hotel. “You’ve neglected to ask about your appointment with Mr. Chambers.”

  George smiled. If Ashley had delivered the reminder, it would be contentious. There was no malice in Barbara’s voice, only charm, and professionalism.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “When is my appointment again?”

  “You’re scheduled to meet with Mr. Chambers on Monday at nine in the morning.”

  “Thank you.” George moved toward the foyer, turned on his heel and returned to the front desk. Barbara stood quietly and respectfully at attention. “Can I ask you, how did you know my name?”

  The smile transformed into a grin. “Mr. Maxwell, the rest of the staff and I have been briefed about you by Mr. Chambers himself.”

  “The rest of the staff?” he asked.

  Again, the manicured fingernail tapped the manila envelope in his grip. He slid the envelope off the desk again and wandered out of the hotel.

  He had four days to wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  By Sunday night, George had picked out a tie. He spent some savings on dry cleaning for a suit that hung dormant in the closest for three years. It still fit, albeit snugly around the waist.

  It was impossible to sleep. He hadn’t returned to the bar because he had no funds to spend on beer. He had no money for the diner, so he didn’t see Elizabeth since her enigmatic visit.

  Out of sorts, out of character, he accepted a dinner invitation from Mary, and they ate frozen dinners while watching reality television. He left early and tried to occupy his time with busy work around the apartment. When that didn’t work, well after nightfall, George went for a walk.

  He strolled in the opposite direction of the hotel. Without a bicycle to carry him at speed, the streets had more detail. Downtown Main Street where nine to five businesses struggled to keep customers, storefront lights were off. There was nothing to attract tourists other than a city pool, city council meetings, and the occasional festival, Main Street was vacant of traffic.

  The oldest city in Vermont had no stability. Still, it felt like home. George was ready for the meeting with Duncan. He just had to wait a few more hours.

  A pick-up truck drove by George. The headlights flashed on him as he meandered along the sidewalk. He kept his low and ignored the truck like he’d ignored all the other passing vehicles. The rusty red pick-up truck had no tailgate. When he heard the change in the engine and glanced back, he saw the truck make a U-turn and accelerate in his direction. The truck pulled up to the curb, its front tires bumping on the cement.

  The passenger climbed out of the truck as the driver slammed the gear into park. The driver joined the passenger on the sidewalk, and George kept walking.

  “You’re that asshole that got me fired!” It was Raymond Day’s voice. His silhouette danced around the headlights of the pick-up. The overhead streetlights hid his angry face in shadows.

  “What are you talking about?” George asked over his shoulder. He continued to walk in the same direction as he started. It was better than turning around.

  When Raymond grabbed George by the elbow, he made it impossible to ignore him. Along with the reek of cigarettes, a layer of alcohol radiated from him. From the flash of light in his eyes, they looked glassy. His partner was quietly wavering on the sidewalk.

  “You got me fired!” Raymond shouted again.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” George repeated. He stepped away from Raymond’s clutch. It was better to be outside arm’s length than near a closed fist. “I quit working at the hotel.”

  “They sent the cops…” he started and lost the rest of the words. Raymond stammered on with, “They took me out of the hotel.” He narrowed his bloodshot eyes. “I know it was you.”

  George had faced adversaries in the past. Growing up, he’d had a few brushes with people who looked down on him. He had nothing to hide. He stood his own when it needed. Years of working at the hotel, doing his duty, he had a healthy physique and ate right when he could. He wasn’t afraid of confrontation, and had renewed energy since leaving the hotel and talking to Dunlop.

  But the fleshy hammer of a fist that collided with the side of his head came without warning and knocked him sideways. He collected his bearings quickly and turned with a balled fist and a general direction and swung. The returned punch struck something. The man staggered backward holding his ear. His eyes turned fiery as he glared at George. It was a distraction.

  This time the assailant came from the other direction. Instead of a fist, the second formable man ran against George, shouldering him in the ribs and hoisting him from the ground. Off balance, his head connected with the concrete sidewalk.

  Everything went black.

  Chapter Thirty

  The University of Vermont had a healthy network of hospitals in and around the state. The nearest hospital to Vergennes was twenty minutes by car, ten by ambulance. The emergency medical technician who sat next to George, who was strapped to the wheeled stretcher, was quiet.

  It was impossible to see the woman because George’s head was fitted inside some plastic brace. His left eye had swollen shut. George tried to take a deep breath. The searing in his ribs made it unachievable to get a full lungful of air.

  By the time they arrived at the hospital, George vaguely realized that something other than blood flowed in his veins. He had a serene sensation that came with paink
illers. The stretcher passed through the bay doors and rolled into an ER suite. George watched the overhead lights as the stretcher halted. George closed his eyes and felt the medical staff tug at his shirt and pants. He felt surprisingly relaxed. A nurse mumbled something about a sedative, but George didn’t care. He went numb. The bright lights of the examination room didn’t stop him from quietly slipping into unconsciousness.

  ***

  “You get yourself into more trouble than it’s worth.” George felt a hand squeeze his forearm.

  Looking up at Duncan, George felt a heavy weight lift off his heart. Those eyes were peering down on George; there was hurt and compassion. If those long years happened again, to feel what he felt at this moment, he would gladly do it. On his hands and knees if needed, if it meant the chance to see Duncan Chambers in the light haloing his handsome head right at that moment, George would do it all over again.

  Duncan tapped George’s arm lightly. He pulled the nearby chair closer to the bed. Someone had raised George’s head slightly. He used the attached button to incline himself more.

  “So, where do I start?” Duncan asked him.

  “How about where you bought the hotel and wanted to keep it all a secret.” George and Dunlop had discussed the recent events at the hotel. It was interesting to get a perspective of weeks from someone else who lived at the hotel. From George’s point of view, there was misery and hurtfulness. From Dunlop’s point of view, George learned the full extent damage caused by Ashley’s poor management. She was despised by the guests.

  “That wasn’t intentional,” Duncan said mildly defensively. “I needed to look at the books.” He shrugged. “That’s part of the business. You may find it interesting to know Ashley McNicol was arrested the other day. Maybe it’s good you decided to take the day off. We, or should I say I, tried to call you a few times.”

  George nodded. A police officer was hanging around the nurse station just outside the ER suite. George made eye contact. It was the officer who took the report on the stolen bicycle. There was a different look in his eyes. Nothing was condescending about his look now.

  At the moment, Duncan took George’s hand and drew his attention.

  “Remember you and I had a conversation about employees? You pointed out there were more employees on the books than on site. I had a team look into it. Turns out Ashley and a friend of hers at the bank embezzled money through fraudulent deposits,” Duncan said with a wave. “We turned over all the evidence to the authorities.” He grinned and added, “Did you know they recovered a tenant’s stolen laptop in Ashley’s house, along with other questionable items?”

  He gave a long look at George. His fingers touched the side of George’s face. A touch that made George feel warm and wanted.

  “They’re going to want to talk to you about your friend Raymond and his buddy.” Duncan smiled. “They’ll be going away for a while.”

  “Hey, I wanted to know if you can allow Florence to stay at the hotel with her cat.”

  “George, you’re amazing, you know that? You’re the only man I know who gets assaulted and is more worried about guests at a hotel than your own wellbeing.” Duncan stood up. “She’s not going anywhere.”

  “Can you stick around a while?” George asked him. “I feel like if you walk about of here I’m not going to see you again.”

  “I have a hotel here,” Duncan said with a smile. “I plan to stick around awhile. Now that my general manager is in the hospital, I want to make sure when he gets back to the hotel everything will be perfect for him.”

  George absorbed the words, but he doubted the meaning. “I think I hit my head too hard.”

  “You did,” Duncan’s eyes scanned the bruises on George’s face. He brushed at the loose strands of hair on his forehead. “But you heard me right.”

  George sat up some. The pain in his ribs made him suck in air. Duncan stepped closer to the bed again. He took George’s hand.

  “I’m just going to get some coffee. I’m coming right back.” Duncan bent over and lightly placed a kiss on George’s forehead. He moved to the doorway. The police officer stepped into the room. Duncan gave George another reassuring grin from the doorway. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”