by Piper Payne
At 10:20 p.m. I went up to the Presidential suite. The cart Marcus gave me was loaded. It had four vases of red roses, a huge bag of rose petals, champagne, candles, bubble bath, and box of expensive imported chocolates.
Not only was The Manor one of Aspen’s most luxurious and expensive AAA four diamond awarded hotels, the Presidential suite was nominated as one of North America’s leading hotel suites year after year. Not like that meant anything to me. It was just ingrained in my brain after my many staff protocol meetings.
Everything had to be done with precise timing. No one wanted to walk into their room with a cold bubble bath and burnt-out candles. At 10:50 p.m. I blew a wavy strand of hair out of my eyes and looked over the room to examine my prep work. I couldn’t lie, it was breathtaking. The flickering tea lights trailed from the doorway into the master suite. They covered the mantle of the fireplace and then surrounded the cloud like bed; some even led into the master bath and floated on top of the red rose-petaled bubble bath. I felt the stabbing pain of wanting something I would never have; the undercurrent of self-pity started to surface and I quickly shook it off telling myself I wasn’t a red roses type of girl.
I straightened my nametag and brushed my hands down my black pencil skirt to flatten out the wrinkles and made my way back downstairs. “Oh, there you are, Larkin! I think Suite P just showed up in a limo! I wonder what famous celebrity it could be this time!” Susan squealed and rushed behind the counter pulling down her blouse and licking her fingertips to slick back the flyaway strands of her auburn hair wrapped tightly in a bun. “Please let me check them in! Please! Please!”
I smiled and nodded my head as she scrambled to find her compact to reapply gloss on her fake injected lips. For being forty-nine years old, she still acted like a crazy teenage fangirl every time someone rich and famous showed up.
I liked working the night shift because no one really bothered me. Some nights the hotel even seemed deserted, especially since it was the end of summer and our off-season. In high school I’d chosen the night shift because I could come here right after school and avoid my mom at the hours that were her worst. Now I took any shift I could get. I graduated and was broke, about to be evicted. My only goal was to replenish my bank account that my mom’s funeral expenses had drained so I could finally leave Aspen with June like I had planned.
“Good evening, welcome to The Manor. How may I assist you this evening?” Susan’s voice sounded overly professional and happy. I’d knelt down to load hotel pamphlets in my arms from the cupboard underneath the desk and rolled my eyes dramatically at her enthusiasm.
“Yes, we would like to check in; it’s under Black.” The familiar masculine voice drilled into my eardrums, seizing my breath and widening my eyes. I sat motionless, crouched down behind the counter. Oh my God.
“Yes, Mr. Black, we’ve been expecting you,” she said happily as she nodded to acknowledge the bellman that was already entering the elevator with their suitcases.
Pamphlets tumbled out of my hands scattering all over the floor. “Shit,” I stammered under my breath. Susan heard and coughed loudly to cover up my rude unprofessionalism.
“Baby! I can’t believe you got us the Presidential suite for our anniversary!” My night got worse hearing Ashley’s shrill voice; it was like chewing on tinfoil. I stood up slowly in front of them. I didn’t really have a choice. I tried to pretend my emotions were calm and collected, leaving the pamphlets on the floor.
“We have everything ready for your stay. These are your room keys.” Susan slid them across the counter slowly. “Is there anything else that we may assist you with before you retire to your suite this evening?”
I stood there hovering like a ghost as I watched them together. Landon’s normal perfectly-styled dark hair was unruly, not from his usual habit of raking his hands through it when he’s frustrated, but from Ashley’s fingers in a moment of passion. I swallowed the lump in my throat when I looked at his swollen lips.
“No, I don’t think we will be leaving our room much.” She giggled, not even looking in our direction; she was too enamored with the man standing in front of her, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. He looked strikingly handsome, dressed up like he had someone to impress. It’d been so long since I’d seen him my heart ached nostalgically.
“Thank you so much for everything,” Ashley said sweetly to Susan, her voice and personality switched to Landon mode.
I wondered when he’d figured out she had a multiple bitch personality? Or maybe he already knew and he just didn’t care? Ashley reached across the counter to grab the key and looked up directly into my eyes, her face suddenly filled with recognition. It was almost as potent as the night I ran into her when I fled the football field. But this time, this time, I couldn’t run and she held her gaze, smirking deviously before turning back to Landon giving him a seductive look.
“I wonder what else you have planned for me tonight, baby?” She held up the key, fluttering her fake eyelashes.
I gripped the counter as I watched what happened next. She went in for the kill by kissing him right in front of me, sticking her tongue down his throat. And he didn’t object. In fact, he looked perfectly content. She wanted to show me that she’d won. The only thing that would’ve been more obvious was if she had peed on his leg to mark her territory.
My face went white and my ears started ringing, drowning out everything surrounding me. The images of the Presidential Suite I’d just decorated danced in my head. It was all for them. I felt my knees begin to buckle. In what cruel world did I end up creating the most romantic and magical night for Landon and ASHLEY? The candles, the bubbles, the champagne, everything was for them!
The moment they walked away from the desk, I crumpled onto the floor trying to breathe through my suddenly constricting chest. I stared at the ground, engulfed in my own misery, hoping it would open up and swallow me whole.
“What is wrong with you?” Susan barked, clearly upset. “You’re lucky the guests didn’t hear you curse like a trucker. You could’ve gotten fired!”
I didn’t say anything or even register Susan’s words. My mind was too busy filling itself with horrible images of the monster I’d helped create. And my body was too busy punishing me for it. I decided to go on my lousy fifteen minute break, which meant I went down into the staff break room to drown my sorrows with the expensive tequila Marcus had stashed in his locker, stolen from the hotel bar.
“What are you doing in here, Lark? Susan said you almost had a panic attack again?” Marcus popped his head in the door, concern written all over his face. Ugh, that stupid woman thinks that just because she caught me having one a few months ago she knows everything about me.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Yeah, well … breaking into my locker and drinking on the job states otherwise.” I took another swig and wiped my mouth. “You could’ve at least invited me to join you.” He winked, trying to lighten the mood as I placed the bottle back into his locker slamming it closed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, about to continue with my apology.
“No apology needed.” He held up his hands and walked closer to me. “Just please let me know if you need anything. I know you’re tough, but I worry about you sometimes. Does this have anything to do with the police investigation? You can talk to me, Larkin. I’ll help you in any way I can.”
“What investigation?” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Nobody cares that she’s gone but me.” I shrugged. “And even I’m not sure.”
My fifteen minutes were over and I reluctantly went back to work. I stood there watching the clock on the computer slowly tick by, all the while torturing myself with haunting images of Ashley and Landon in the Presidential Suite.
The bell to the elevator dinged waking me out of my trance and interrupting Susan’s rant about her husband’s ulcer and her kid’s piano recital. I grabbed her arm slowly when I saw who exited the elevator, suitcase in hand.
“Larkin, what the …�
� Susan looked at my death grip and then up at Ashley as she floated toward us in her slinky purple cocktail dress and silver rhinestone Manolo heels. I hated that she was deceptively beautiful. Bleached hair, fake tits, perfect makeup, and a florescent lamp tan. Even worse, if you took it all away, she’d probably be even prettier.
“I need a driver immediately.” She stepped up to front desk, causing a cloud of potent cotton candy smelling perfume to choke my lungs. She clicked her long, fake French tip nails on the stone counter, avoiding eye contact with me. I let go of Susan’s arm and backed off, gladly letting her assist Ashley.
“Yes, ma’am, I would love to assist you. Where is your destination this evening? I can see if a driver is available or I can call you a cab.” At the mention of having to take a cab, Ashley seemed appalled. It was midnight and most of our drivers had already been scheduled to pick up guests from other dining and nightlife locations.
As Susan’s fingers typed on the keyboard trying frantically to find a driver, Ashley became more agitated. “This is fucking ridiculous! I’m staying in the Presidential Suite. There should be a chauffeur available to me at the snap of my fingers!”
Susan jumped, startled by Ashley’s sudden outburst. I, however, reveled in the fact she was showing her true colors, standing there completely pissed off and no longer surrounded by candles and rose petals … and Landon.
“What the fuck are you smirking at?” Her brown eyes drilled me with daggers, and I quickly wiped the grin I didn’t know I was wearing off of my face. I could tell there was more she wanted to say to me, but she held back and stiffened her posture.
“I apologize for any inconvenience. All of our drivers are out at the moment. The next one can be here in ten minutes.”
“You know what … never mind!” she yelled as she pushed off the counter and stormed over toward the exit. Susan and I both pretended to get back to work as we eavesdropped on Ashley’s phone call. She was trying to hold back tears as she pressed the buttons on her phone. A small part of me felt bad for her. I didn’t know she was capable of such an emotion.
“I thought tonight was the night,” she tried to talk quietly but her desperate voice and sniffles traveled across the lobby’s silent and empty interior. “Daddy,” she cried, “I was so sure that he was going to propose! He’s never going to ask me! What more can I do? You have to talk to his father. His father will talk some sense into him! I want him to propose NOW!”
After her phone call she waited in the lobby until her driver arrived. Before she left she looked back over toward us and yelled, “By the way, your manager will hear about this!”
As Ashley slithered outside into the night, Susan and I both looked at each other and released the air we had been holding. I didn’t want to be thrilled about what I’d overheard, but I was.
“What a bitch!” Susan gasped. “Do you know who she is?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Landon came storming out of the elevator minutes later, tie loosened and askew, clearly upset. He scanned the lobby then made his way to the hotel lounge. I wasn’t surprised they didn’t kick him out for being under age. He most likely had a fake ID, or the bartender knew who he was and wasn’t going to screw up what could be at least a couple hundred dollar tip.
It was almost two in the morning. I’d pretended to work the past couple hours but in reality all I did was watch the door to the lounge like a stalker. Landon hadn’t left the lounge yet and it was time for them to close.
“Aye yai yai.” Marcus walked up behind me taking off his suit coat and rolling up his sleeves. “There’s trouble in the lounge. Have you seen Jeff around? I need his help escorting a guest back up to his room.”
“I think he left early. Why not have Cooper help?” Susan replied, annoyed, like the bartender was the obvious choice for muscle and assisting the drunken mess he knowingly caused.
“Can’t. Coop has some drunk tourists from China at the bar. I told him he could keep serving since we’ve been slow lately and they’re spending a fortune.” He huffed and started walking over toward the lounge puffing out his chest ready for a confrontation.
I knew it was Landon. I just did.
Seconds later Marcus came out of the lounge with Landon hanging on his shoulder dragging him toward the elevator. “Larkin, help me!” he shouted. “Go grab the Aspirin and drink concoction Coop made.” His thick angry accent rolled out of his mouth. I normally just pretended to understand the Spanish swear words he mumbled after English sentences, but these I understood.
I rushed around the front desk into the lounge where Cooper handed me a disgusting looking drink and two little white pills. He smiled smugly as he grabbed a stack of hundreds off the bar. “Guy’s got it bad. What he needs is an exorcist, not a bartender. But I do what I can.” I rolled my eyes at his cockiness.
When I got back to the elevator, Marcus had his foot propped against the door holding it open for me. I stepped inside silently and let the doors shut closing me into the tiny metal cage.
Landon let out a low groan, leaning all of his weight onto Marcus. He towered over him and I had to stifle a laugh at how hard it was for Marcus to keep Landon standing. The elevator reeked of bourbon, sticky and burnt. We stood there uncomfortably, letting him spew a tirade of nonsense and emotions.
“I can’t let go …” Landon groaned incoherently as he slurred his words. “I don’t want to forget …” He let his heavy head hang down onto his chest. “I should’ve run after her.” Marcus let him slump into the corner of the elevator while trying to keep him balanced. It was like watching a ship sink.
“Grab his arm, Larkin, before I drop him.” Hiding my eagerness, I listened to Marcus and wrapped Landon’s other arm around my shoulder while I tried not to spill the drink in my other hand. We dragged him out of the elevator and down the hall. I’d carried my mom like this a million or more times, sometimes even throwing her completely over my shoulder, but Landon was nearly impossible to carry. Once we got to his suite, Marcus fumbled with the keys trying to unlock the door with one hand. I was surprised when he finally swung it open to find the inside looking exactly how I left it. Besides the candles being blown out it was completely untouched. I smiled.
“What a waste,” Marcus complained as we stepped into the entryway and looked around. I went to go set down the drink and pills, but Marcus lost his grip on Landon and his entire body weight fell onto me dumping the drink concoction down the front of my shirt.
“Oh my God, grab him!” I squealed.
The cup crashed on the floor but most of the green and sticky liquid was in my white lace bra and covered the front of my blouse. “Shit! Sorry, Lark, the fucker hit me in the nuts!” We finally laid him down on the bed and stood back to examine the situation.
“What a joke,” Marcus huffed.
“Was he causing problems in the lounge?” I asked while assessing how big of a mess I was.
“No, he was just passed out. Cooper cut him off thirty minutes ago, said he’d been shooting straight bourbon the last twenty minutes and eventually became incoherent.”
Landon moaned, flinging his arm over to the nightstand searching and mumbling for something.
“Hey, Boss,” Jeff walked into the room and started laughing at the scene before him. “Susan said you were looking for me?”
“Yeah, we got it taken care of.”
“That’s good … because we kind of have a situation on line four in your office.” Jeff scratched his head, making a sour face.
“Who the hell is on line four?”
“Some princess complaining about her service; said her dad is related to Mr. Shultz so you might want to handle this ASAP.” Jeff’s eyes wandered to my now green yet see-through blouse.
“Well, this night has turned to shit,” Marcus said, his accent getting thicker with his frustration. “Hurry and go clean yourself up, Larkin. I can’t have you wandering the halls like that. Take one of the robes from the closet and I’m sending you
home early.” I started to object but he cut me off and laughed, knowing why I was objecting. “With pay of course.”
They left the room and I exhaled slowly, walking closer toward the bed so I could look down at Landon. I never noticed the pain and anger he carried with him. I reached out to touch him. There were lines that pained his face that I wanted to smooth out, but I held back and took the briefest second to capture the moment in my mind. He was real. No fake smile or pretenses. He carried a burden just like the rest of us. He was flawed, hurt, and vulnerable. Taking a breath I unabashedly traced my fingertips along his forehead, down his strong jaw, toward the frown on his bottom lip. What made him even more beautiful to me tonight was his imperfection.
I reluctantly controlled myself, knowing I needed to get out of there. I walked over and slid off his polished dress shoes and draped him with a cashmere blanket. He groaned and rolled onto his side, covering his eyes with his forearm to shade them from the bright room, so I walked around the suite shutting off all of the lights and closing the curtains leaving the room completely dark.
I hurried and walked inside the bathroom to clean myself up and grab a hotel robe. Once inside, I met my reflection in the full-length mirror. I twisted my lips and analyzed all the differences between Ashley and me. I could never compete with her, and Landon’s actions tonight only proved how much he loved her. Drunk love was honest love, at least that was what I told myself because that was the only time my mom showed me a sliver of affection. “What a sweet Little Bird taking care of Mommy. Pour the drink to the rim, don’t be stingy now.” Bird crumbs of gratitude for my obedience.
The more I stared at my inadequacies, I realized that not once did Landon even look my way tonight. I stood right in front of him and he didn’t even see me. He would never see me.
Feeling even more pitiful, I peeled off my sticky shirt and bra and stood there topless, scrubbing them out in the sink. I was a stupid fucking delusional girl. The water burned hot and my fingers were frantic. Cleanse the stain; make it hurt, red is better than bleeding dirt.
