Housekeeping
Page 4
The trip wasn’t exactly a long one, and though there were some bus stops in between where I lived and the hotel, I usually didn’t bother taking it, and not just because I’d have to be half an hour earlier. The walk to work was the one time every day where I got to breathe some fresh air. Though just how fresh that air was I wasn’t sure as all the cars went by.
When I arrived at the hotel, it was at my usual time, not a little late like yesterday. There were a few people already in when I went to the locker room to change into my uniform, and someone had been nice enough to put on a pot of coffee in the staff lounge, so I got myself a cup. There were some muffins too, and I wondered if they were bought or if Jessi made them. One bite was enough to assure me that she did. My eyes drifted toward the doors to the kitchens, and I thought of going to see her. Then I figured she was fine and let it be. Besides, I had my own work to do.
Just before I could pick up a trolley of supplies and start making my rounds, I was called to a halt.
“Laura, can I talk to you?” Margret Jones asked, and she wasn’t just another colleague. She also wasn’t really asking because she was the head of the cleaning department, which pretty much meant she was in charge of us maids.
My heart skipped a beat after she called my name because it wasn’t usually a good thing when Margaret interrupted our work, since we all had set schedules that detailed where we’d start work from. Occasionally, she’d do inspections of a maid’s work or respond to a client’s complaints if they said something about the state of their rooms.
So it was with dread that I stopped and slowly turned to face her, waiting to hear what I’d done wrong. Instead of looking her usual prim and haughty self, she looked a little unsettled. Her hair was still put up in that severe bun, and she had on her pristine skirt suit uniform, black with gold trim, with a white blouse and gold scarf tied elegantly at her neck, to match the hotel’s colors. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and she kept rubbing them together.
“Is there something I can do for you, Ms. Jones?” I asked, being as polite as possible and hoping she’d called my name by accident.
It was as if she’d drawn a complete blank. I didn’t know whether to prompt her again or not, but then her back straightened and she clasped her hands behind her back instead.
“You’re not in trouble, Laura,” she said quickly, probably reading my awkwardness all over my face. That was something I needed to work on—being so easy to read. “I called you because you have a special assignment today, and you’ll be going to do that first.”
I held back the groan I wanted to let out. ‘Special assignment’ couldn’t possibly mean anything good.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Are you sure no one in my block complained or something?”
“Um, no.” There was a slight furrow in her brow, and it was enough to alert me. “There were no complaints, but a client did call and ask for you by name, and it’s a little far from your usual block. You’ll just work there for now, and once you’re done you can go on with your usual routine.”
The feeling of dread in my chest had solidified. I had the most horrible thought, and looking at Margaret trying to act all nonchalant, I knew it had to be true.
“Was it… Mason Thompson’s room, by any chance that called for me?” I asked, and I could hear my voice shake. He wouldn’t do that would he? He’d barely even noticed me!
“He did,” she admitted. “I don’t know why because we sent someone to him already, but he sent her back, then called with your name and description.”
I wondered why he’d even call for me, or how he knew my name. Did he ask the maid they’d sent?
“Can I just ask if there was a party or something? Or if he has any guests?” The worry thickened my throat and made it hard to speak.
“Not that I know of. Although, the request came yesterday, and since you were busy, he instructed you be sent as soon as you come in, no need to bother calling first. He insisted on his room being the first you worked on today.”
I rolled my eyes at what I knew was a demand from a spoiled little rich boy. I couldn’t exactly refuse, so I got some supplies and went on my way after Margaret gave me the room number. It was four floors above where I usually worked, and I sighed, already feeling that today was going to be tiring.
With the thought that Mason would possibly still be in the room, I set out to do my job. I paused outside his door, stalling for a minute, dreaming of just walking away and ignoring the kid’s summons, but in the end I sighed and opened the door, unlocking it with my hotel card.
“Dang!” I hissed to myself when I got a look at the room.
It was pretty messed up. There must have been some other people there at some point because there were empty bags of junk food thrown around, and a few bottles of beer here and there. There were spills on the floor—thankfully nothing on any of the rugs—but cleaning it all up would just take time. And it had all been left since yesterday, so it smelled.
The very first thing I did when I went in was to open the window, then pick up the bottles, wrappers, and bags to throw in the trash bin. I’d pack it all up and go with it afterward, but it was best to just leave it for the moment.
Next, I looked through the rest of the suite, freezing when I walked into the bedroom, to find Mason asleep and sprawled over his bed on his stomach, arms folded on his pillow and head on his chest. He had a sheet over him that covered the tops of his thighs, but nothing else. For a moment, I was tempted to just stand there and admire, but then I got a hold of myself. Then, I was furious.
I was summoned to his room as if I was his personal maid and what was he doing? Sleeping as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was a grown man acting like a spoiled little kid and he was living the easy life. I’d had to struggle through life, beating one of the deadliest killers on the planet. Then to make ends meet, I’d had to get this job and be subjected to this? I was better now, physically and financially than I’d been for a few years, but this kid who was younger than me by about a decade had seen more of the world than I even knew existed!
In a moment of weakness, I thought about how unfair it was. I resented the fate that gave so much to some while denying even the bare necessities to others, because I knew there were some that were far worse off than I’d ever been. I didn’t let that negativity stay with me for long though, as I once again regained myself.
I knew the world wasn’t fair. If it was, I wouldn’t have been left orphaned so young and shafted from foster home to foster home until I became legal age. I’d ended up ill and having to fend for myself. If only I’d had the life, the kind of resources, that this kid had. Life would have been so much easier, even with cancer to deal with. Life never worked like that though, and wishes didn’t come true if they weren’t something you could realistically work for.
That was the life I knew.
There was even more of a mess in the bedroom, I finally noticed, and I picked up more cans and packages, threw them out, and pulled out the vacuum cleaner, plugging it into the socket. I sent a glance at the kid sleeping on the bed and turned it on with a decidedly wicked grin. The noise was immediate and loud, and I let out a small smirk when he popped up. There was some disappointment as he rolled around and his sheet moved with him to cover his crotch.
“What the fuck?” he growled in a sleepy but irritated voice while rubbing his eyes and squinting at me.
“Housekeeping,” I chirped, changing the smirk to a bright smile. “I was asked to come in and clean the room, and not to bother asking if there was anyone in already. Sorry to intrude.”
“Do you have to fucking vacuum? It’s so damn loud.” He grimaced, and I wondered if he was hung-over. He must have had quite a few of the bottles of beer I’d found lying around. I changed the settings on the vacuum. It helped for more efficiency and made the vacuum just a little louder.
“Seriously, could you turn that off?” he asked, raising his voice a little and glaring at me.
There was so much I wanted to tell him. He had no idea how lucky he was to be healthy. I wanted to tell him how he was throwing that away by partying and drinking, eating junk food and spending more time sleeping than exercising, no matter how good his body looked. He was wasting his life by doing all this shit, and I would have liked to have the same shot at life that he did, because why did he get it and not me if he was just going to be fucking ungrateful about it?
He was the boss’s son though, and a guest at the hotel, so I held my tongue.
“My superior told me you asked me to come in first thing,” I said, raising my voice just a little to be heard over the vacuum. “I have other jobs to do so I’m doing this first, just like you wanted.”
There was a sneer on his lips, and he looked pretty angry. That put me in a good mood. If he was going to mess with my life I was going to give him as much hell for it as I could. In a moment, the look in his eyes changed. He blinked some more, the glare going out of his eyes as they ran down my body, the growing heat in them making me shiver.
“Laura,” he murmured in that deep, growly voice of his, and just the sound of my name on his lips ran a shiver down my spine.
I hadn’t even realized I was paying him so much attention, but I caught the looks he was giving me, and I clocked it when he shifted as if he were leaning toward me, like he wanted to pounce on me. That was enough to make me drop the pretense of working entirely. I shut off the vacuum and held up a hand.
“Whoa there, puppy,” I said in a voice that brooked no argument, boss’s son be damned. “You’re a little too young to even be looking at my yard. Only grown-up dogs get to play in it, so stop it with the looks.”
His eyebrows shot up, and there was a look of surprise on his face like he hadn't expected those words to come out of my mouth.
Internally, I sneered at him. Did he expect me to throw myself at him like most of the women he met? I wouldn’t sleep with him just because he was rich, good-looking, with a good body and well hung. While I wasn’t a virgin, I wasn’t promiscuous either, and I was very choosy about my partners because of my health. Another reason he could only ever be a fantasy. There was no way I could even consider taking this kid to my bed. I dated before taking men home, where I’d likely end up taking all my clothes off and they could see all my imperfections.
It might have just been me stereotyping him, but I didn’t want a guy that would make me feel self-conscious about my body. Or one that might be so irresponsible he’d give me something else to worry about.
“That’s good to know,” Mason said simply, then slid off the bed, giving me a naughty grin as he did. I turned to look away as the sheet fell. “I’m going to take a shower now, but please, continue. This whole place is a mess.”
I wanted to growl at him and ask why he left it that way when someone already came yesterday and he’d sent them away.
“You can go,” I said with my back turned to him. “I promise I won’t touch your things.”
Mason chuckled. The sound was deep and smooth and did funny things to my insides.
“You know,” he said. “I might not be a grown-up dog, but maybe all I need is a little puppy training?”
My eyes widened at his words, and I was frozen for a moment as my mouth opened and closed as I gaped like a fish. He just implied he was interested in me, didn’t he? And while I didn’t usually fall for such proposals, the ‘relationship’ between Mason and I was already so complicated, and I had way more interest in him than I should have. I didn’t know whether to be mad, indignant, or hopeful, and all three options made me a little annoyed.
By the time I could bring myself to turn around, he’d already slipped into the bathroom. On the table were some bills that hadn't been there before. It was a pretty hefty tip, and it left me kind of mad.
Still, I felt pleased. Not so much about the money… although I couldn’t be picky, so of course I pocketed it.
Mason was interested in me. He fucking flirted with me! That didn’t mean I was suddenly ready to jump him, though the consideration was there.
He was someone to avoid… but he was oh so deliciously tempting, like those expensive chocolates I liked to torture myself with sometimes. I liked to look and torture myself just imagining how it would taste, even though I knew it would be bad for me in the long run, especially if I ate too much, not to mention the price tag.
I tried not to lose sight of myself, but as I picked up the cleaning, there was a smile on my face that wouldn’t leave no matter how many times I tried to straighten my expression.
7
Mason
By the time I got back to my room, it was cleaned, and the maid was nowhere to be found. I looked around, even in the front room, but there was no trace she’d ever been there. I had a towel wrapped around my waist, and I sighed at what a waste it was. I’d wanted her to look at me some more because she had the oddest reactions when she saw me naked. Well, not odd entirely. She definitely looked at me as if she wanted me. There was no fucking denying it. It wouldn’t take much to get her to play along.
“Next time!” I pulled off the towel as I went back to the bedroom, as if giving her a good eyeful of what she’d get in time.
I looked through my closet for something to wear. I hadn’t packed much to begin with, and I’d have to remember to send my clothes down to laundry or I’d have to buy more outfits. There was a store in the hotel lobby where I could buy more clothes if I wanted to, so it wasn’t like it was an especially large problem.
“He’s going to be mad I’m late,” I said aloud, checking the time.
After so much relaxation the past couple days, it was time to get back to work before Trent specifically called me up to ask if I was getting things done. I wondered if Kevin was keeping up with the work since he arrived, or if I was being excessively lazy. Not that Kevin was lazy, he was just as easily distracted as I was, if not more so.
I got dressed in a pair of slacks, then pulled on a white button-down shirt, before grabbing a coat to go over it. Then I put on my loafers and left my room. I could have had some breakfast, but I was allowed to order from the kitchen, and it was easier than just making something myself, or eating whatever junk food I still had in my fridge. I didn’t play competitive sports anymore, so I’d gone a bit—well, a lot—lax about my diet. I knew it was self-destructive though, so I usually made sure to have at least one good meal a day.
Besides, the food from the kitchen, particularly the pastries, was pretty amazing stuff.
I made my way to the elevator, then up to what was usually Dad’s office, on one of the highest floors in the hotel. The office that Trent was currently using.
Dad’s secretary looked up as I neared, and I sent her a nod in greeting.
“Is he busy?” I asked, gesturing toward the door.
“He’s looking over some files. You can go in, Mr. Thompson.”
I rolled my eyes. “As I’ve asked before, you can call me Mason. There are too many Thompsons around now, best not to get all confused.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d asked, but I knew she wouldn’t listen to me anyway. She didn’t even call my dad by his first name, and she’d been working for him for over half a dozen years.
I opened the door and walked inside. I could have knocked, but I wasn’t nearly that polite.
“Busy, as always,” I said, closing the door behind me.
Trent was looking over a file on his desk and something on his computer. I didn’t know exactly what work he did, but pretty much every time I walked into his office, he was working on something. He was the opposite of me, more work than parties, and even those, I knew he usually ignored unless it wasn’t a possibility. Besides working for the family, he’d started up his own successful business and h
e was only 31.
I was pretty sure some of that success came from the family name, but he definitely worked hard enough I could believe most of it was his being a workaholic. Dad had told me all about big brother’s best qualities. And while I resented Dad for comparing us, I didn’t particularly hate Trent, or I wouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room as him.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Dad left a lot of work behind and I’ve been trying to get through it as quickly as possible, but I’ve been in between meetings the past few days…”
“You could let Kevin do some of it, or I could handle some of the meetings, if you wanted,” I offered like a fucking chump. Next thing I’ll be doing is a fucking curtsey. I was being so accommodating that it was making me feel sick.
He spared me a glance before returning to his computer.
“As much as I appreciate that, I’m fine doing this much. I only need to keep it up until Dad is ready to come back…”
His words trailed off, and I noticed when his eyes glazed over. He was no longer focusing on what was on his computer, and I wondered if he had the same thoughts I did about how odd this whole thing with Dad was.
“Have you had any word yet?” I asked.
He looked up at me, a slight frown on his brow. “If you’re asking about Dad, still nothing. I’m too busy to push it for now. I’ll give it another week or so, then go back to the mansion.”
“You went there?” I asked.
His lips pursed. “The day I arrived, yes. I’ve been staying at the hotel ever since.”
I nodded because it was completely expected. It was a surprise he’d even stepped foot there, considering he hadn't since he left for college. I went back occasionally to see my parents and my sister, and so did Kevin. Then I remembered Emily had mentioned something about him arriving before I did. I was partying way too hard if I’d forgotten that little nugget.