CHAPTER 4 - TRAPPING THE SPIDER TO FREE THE FLY
RECEPTION
VIC
“Okay, Ted, that’s great. What time shall I drop him off and where?” My eyebrows shoot up and I snort. “I take it this was Emmett’s idea? Thought it might be! I’ll make sure he’s looking good and smelling gorgeous, but just a shade late. See you, Ted.”
I crick my neck, then head to reception; her ladyship can wait for a few minutes, this needs to be addressed first. I find Darryl, my favourite concierge, and ask him to get a selection of clothing and toiletries. There’s no way that I’m letting Brian out of my sight. By the time I’ve finished, that little lamb will see the merits of staying with this particular wolf!
I head towards the bar and watch her for a minute; she knocks back the rest of her drink then signals for another. Judging by the grip on her purse and checking of her watch, she’s working herself into a princess pique of pissiness, which will give her an ulcer if she doesn’t wind her neck back. When I expressed surprise that he would think such a thing of his best friend, he looked rueful before admitting that he didn’t say that. Having only dealt with her for two hours, it was Daphne who came up with it. A result of which meant she got a bonus for both making him roar with laughter and for the client signing on the spot when he overheard them.
She's up as soon as she sees me, so I plaster on a smile. “You’re late!” She snarls after draining her glass. “I said ten minutes.” I straighten my tie. “Well?!”
“Brian is still talking to George and Ted. He’s going to be at least another 45 minutes, and…”
“That is not the ‘well’ I meant. “Where is my apology for keeping me waiting!”
About to be shoved up your nostril or rammed through your shop bought teeth! Is what I want to say but I want Brian to be going out, not dealing with the mitherings of this father-fucking-over broad.
“I lament my lateness, but circumstances conspired against me wishing to make you happy.”
“Which were what, and where is Brian exactly? I want to deal with the metaphorical organ grinder, not his monkey!”
Organ grinder?! I almost break my jaw biting back my retort. “As I said, he’s looking after your best interests, and…”
“As he should as my best friend! I will find out myself!” She seethes over her shoulder as she stalks to reception. I hang back a bit and watch as she stiffens every second she is kept waiting; after two minutes, it’s a wonder she can move! “I want the room number of Brian Kinney, I’m going to wait in there for him!”
“Is he a guest here?” Marlo asks. I am going to enjoy this!
“Of course he is or I wouldn’t be asking! Do I look like the kind of person that randomly asks for people’s rooms?!”
“Ma’am, as we’re a discrete hotel and subscribe to the mantra ‘no hawkers nor hookers’...” I have to turn away as she goes puce. “...unless you are a guest here, no information will be given.”
“Get me the manager!” She demands. Sadly, reception is almost deserted, but those who are about are now watching closely. I would prefer that she had a bigger audience for this.
“I am the manager. Are you a guest?” Marlo asks, beckoning Willow, the security guard closer. Whatever Lindsay was going to say does not come out, for Willow is not the weeping kind! “I think this person needs to be escorted from the building, she is…”
“Marlo, my dear!” I stride up to them. As much as I’m having fun, I do need her to remain a guest! “This lady is registered here under the Peterson account.”
“Vic, darling, how lovely to see you. You can vouch for her?”
“Absolutely. Now…”
“The room details for Brian Kinney!” She snaps, but with markedly less heat; Willow coughs and Marlo waits. “Please.”
“Of course, ma’am, I just need your name and room number; then I’ll contact Mr Kinney to get his permission to give you his room number.”
“I can furnish you with those, Marlo.” I hand over my tablet; Lindsay starts to drum her nails on the desk, this is something that Marlo detests. “Is all in order?”
“Absolutely. Thank you, Vic. Now, ma’am, if you can let me know where you will be so that someone can escort you to Mr Kinney’s room…”
“He’s not on the same floor as me?”
“As I said before, ma’am, this hotel’s reputation is built on it’s discretion, so I can’t answer that. Please advise where you will be?” Marlo puts her swipe card down, which stops the tapping. She is warring so hard with herself before the smile which blooms across Marlo’s face says she’s won that round!
“I will be in my room. I’ve had a very trying day and need some rest, but before I go, does this protocol apply to the office suites?”
MARLO
I pretend to be checking something to give Vic time to get to the elevator. “I’m sorry, ma’am, what did you ask?”
“The office suites, does the same ‘room rule’ apply?”
“Yes. Darryl…”
“In that case, Vic, could…oh he’s gone. When did he go?!”
“I don’t know. Darryl will take you to your room, ma’am.” Darryl is smiling brightly by her side; I catch the moment she assesses him and decides he’s an easy mark - I look forward to hearing from him how that went!
ELEVATOR - FIVE MINUTES LATER
LINDSAY
I wait for the person to leave, then start to sniff. He doesn’t seem to notice. I sniff harder. Still nothing. “Excuse me, do you have a tissue?” I weep.
“Oh dear, I’ve got a handkerchief.” He hands it to me, I wipe my eyes and wait. Nothing, he says nothing, just keeps facing forward!
“Thank you. Would you like it back?”
“No thank you, I’ve got plenty.” He replies, to my mind, coldly; this is not how you treat a damsel in distress. “This is your floor.” When we step into the corridor, I gasp, I hadn’t fully taken in the ambiance of this place, the chandeliers twinkle and the carpet is cashmere. “It is a beautiful place, isn’t it? Your suite is 666…” He swings the door open, again I’m gasping, this is breathtaking. “...is there anything else?”
I smile at him. “Yes, I wonder if you could grant me one thing…” I brim with tears again, allowing one to roll down my cheek. “...could you take me to Brian Kinney's room? I know it’s against protocol, but my father’s just died, and…”
He puts his hand on my arm and gives it a squeeze. “I understand totally.”
“I will give you a nice big tip.” I smile through my tear. “What should we settle on?” I sniff, feeling smug about besting that mean-spirited wretch on reception.
“I can name my own tip?!” He smiles and I nod. “In that case $2766.47 please.”
“Two thou...what do you mean?!”
“Well, that’s my wage per month, which I will lose if I take you to his room.” I wrench my arm away. “I take it you no longer require that walk?”
“No thank you! Go be useless elsewhere!”
“With pleasure!” He clicks his heels and leaves.
I storm over to the desk and slam down my purse. “Calm yourself, Lindsay, simply call Brian and tell him to let you know where he is. He knows what side his bread is buttered, especially the bread in New York!” I look around the room, nodding at its palatialness. “But first, a drink to toast my father’s memory!”
Ten minutes later, I check my watch. The 45 minutes are up, and I've calmed myself down in the interim by unpacking. “The first thing we shall be doing tomorrow is going shopping, he can treat me to something.” I decide and reach for my purse. “That’s odd.” I frown, rummaging again before tipping it out. “Where’s my phone?” I check my jacket and coat, it’s not there. “Where the hell is it?!” I fume before dialling reception. “Yes, this is Lindsay Peterson of Suite 666. My phone is missing. It's a silver Bang & Olufsen Serene, it cost a lot of money. Which this hotel will be replacing if…” I’m relieved but disappointed when the receptionist says it has been handed in, as it was due an upgrade. “Have someone bring it to my room immediately! Why can’t they?! Oh, this is ridiculous!” I slam the phone down then scream into the cushion.
This ‘palace’ has been so fucking frustrating! It's all well and good my phone being found, but the wretch is the only one with a key to the safety deposit box and she’s gone home for the rest of the day. And of course I don’t know Brian’s number by heart! When he and I catch up there will be hell to pay, starting with a new phone!
BRIAN’S OFFICE SUITE - 90 MINUTES LATER
VIC
He looks unsure, but I’m determined to get him out wearing that! When I told him about Lindsey's histrionics, he was more than happy to remain here. Naturally, he thought my suggestion that I locate him some fancy duds was a good one, but now he has them on, he’s looking like a foal taking his first steps.
“You don’t think these are too much?” He closes the top button for the third time!
“No, or I wouldn’t have gotten them. I will cut that button off if you do it up again.” He chuckles as he undoes it. “And the next one, it’s going to be warm in there.” I smile, whilst thinking; you’re the guy who’s going to heat them up looking like that.
“Okay, I’ll be guided by you.” He appraises his reflection once more, then untucks the shirt and rolls up the sleeves. “I think that looks better.”
“Oh, I know it does.” I mutter. “Shall we? It will take us about forty minutes to get there, Emmett will meet you outside.”
“Oh great, um, where are we going?” He follows me out and I am so glad that Darryl got those jeans; they fit him perfectly. “Vic?”
“Woody’s.” I smile leading him down to the car. Ten minutes later, he’s chuckling in the seat next to me. “A gay bar?”
“Is that a problem for you?”
“No, of course not. Be interesting to compare them to the ones in New York.” I almost slam on the brakes, I’m so surprised. He grins then checks his reflection in the side view mirror. “I have a local bar I go to when, I must admit, I’m hiding from Lindsay. Sometimes she's just too much to deal with. Although it’s near my office, she’d never think to look there.”
I chuckle. “Want to put some music on?”
“Yeah.” He reaches for the radio and selects a station, two minutes later, we’re both singing along to Todrick Hall’s I Like Boys.
Go there to hide my ass!
OLIVE OR TWIST BAR, THREE HOURS LATER
DAPHNE
I make my way back to my seat and put the martini down, next to his craft beer. He beams,, pops an olive in his mouth before hugging me again. “I’ve just about got my hearing back now; still not controlled that volume, have you?!”
“Nope!” I grin as I take him in; he is looking tired, but otherwise alright. “So, my darling Justin, tell me everything that’s been happening since we last saw each other…”
“Can you believe it's been 8 years?!”
“I know; we’ve got a lot of martinis and beer to carry down memory lane, let’s get cracking!”