Surrendering His Heart

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Surrendering His Heart Page 8

by David Horne


  An offer from a handsome and strong man was the most compelling thing to happen to George in a very long time. He’d liked sharing conversation with Duncan on the roof of the hotel but hadn’t anticipated it would go any further. He tried not to get too excited.

  “I could eat,” George said, staring ahead along the street. The car idled near the curb where Duncan stopped.

  “Do you have any suggestions?” Duncan asked. “Somewhere close with good service? I want to make sure you get to the hotel on time.”

  “I know a place.”

  The diner near the interstate had bad coffee but tasty pie. Elizabeth Hutchinson took George and Duncan’s orders with a grin. She had years of waitressing and knew George’s schedule at the hotel. So the food arrived quickly. While Duncan ate pesto chicken and pasta, George ate a Caesar salad and had coffee.

  “What’s going on around the hotel?” Elizabeth asked when she had a break in customers. It was normally a busy place. Truckers and tourists stopped off to fuel up at the pumps and try the homemade pie slices. “It seems the closer to the sale of the place the more things change.”

  “You know about the sale?” Duncan asked, interrupting the question directed at George.

  Elizabeth gave him a pleasant smile. She spoke to strangers every day. By the look on her face, she wasn’t used to speaking to an attractive and dignified man. George saw the twinkle in her eyes and Elizabeth subconsciously ran her finger around her ear to push the strands of auburn hair from her eyes.

  “I think everyone knows about the sale.”

  “This is Duncan Chambers,” George offered.

  “You’re in room 315,” Duncan added. He extended his hand to shake. “I’m just down the hall.”

  “I thought you looked familiar. You’re fairly new.” She held his hand for a moment longer than needed.

  “And he’s going in a few weeks.” George felt inclined to point out to Elizabeth (though mainly to remind himself).

  Elizabeth looked back at George. “I hear Martese is gone. Angel said Ashley gave her the option to quit or be fired and possibly arrested.”

  While George wasn’t someone who detailed troubles at work, he wasn’t shy about expounding on ideas once open to public scrutiny.

  “She even alleged to Martese’s immigration status.” George saw Duncan actively listening. “Martese’s a great housekeeper. Ashley got news of a theft from one of the guests. She thought Martese stole some jewelry.”

  “Did she,” Duncan asked.

  “Are you kidding me?” Elizabeth said. “Martese was no thief.”

  The look on Duncan’s face suggested he’d made a decision about Ashley but didn’t share it with George and Elizabeth.

  “What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked George. “It feels like even the guests are on Ashley’s chopping block.”

  “I wish I knew.” He wasn’t someone to share misery and didn’t want to include Elizabeth in the news he’d already shared with Duncan. Instead he added, “I think Ashley wants to make some changes before the new owners take over.”

  “Did you ever find out who that is?” Elizabeth asked in a mock whisper. She looked at Duncan and said, “We all know it’s one of the guests at the hotel. My money’s on the guy from room 214.” She saw George’s face change with recognition. “See, I was right. I told Mary and Florence I thought he was the guy.” She gave Duncan more attention. “Did you know Florence McAlester is an honest movie star living in the hotel?”

  “The name sounds familiar,” Duncan said.

  George figured he was being polite.

  “I saw one of her movies. It was some weird foreign thing. Had a lot of sex in it,” Elizabeth whispered.

  Duncan smiled. He sipped at his iced tea.

  “Did you want a piece of pie now?” she asked, turning on the attendant switch.

  “I don’t think I can eat anything else.”

  “You might want to get a piece for later.” George wanted to make sure Duncan had a real taste of Vermont before the man returned to parts unknown.

  “I tell George they should have the kitchen opened again at the hotel.” She gave him a look when she mentioned the kitchen. “I thought I saw a guy who used to work at the hotel a few days ago when I left for work.”

  George nodded. “That’s Raymond Day.”

  She snapped her fingers and pointed one at George. “I knew that guy sounded familiar. You need to let that guy go. He’s trouble.”

  “Why do you say that?” Duncan asked, intrigued by the notion.

  “He started some trouble when he worked at the hotel a few years ago. I remember because I’d just moved into the place and thought it was something I had to worry about. He started a fight with one of the guests. But I think the real problem was his attempt to get into one of the female guest’s rooms. He used to hang out in the lobby and hit on all the women checking in. It made me nervous.”

  “I didn’t know anything about that,” George quickly pointed out. “Raymond mentioned he was a cook at the hotel. But I didn’t know he was such a problem.”

  “Why would your supervisor hire him again?” Duncan wanted to know. The scowl on his face was deep with frustration.

  “I don’t know why that woman does half things most of the time,” Elizabeth answered for George.

  George stood. “I need to use your men’s room to change.”

  “Sure, honey,” Elizabeth said. She stood by the table with Duncan as George walked across the diner to the small hallway in the back. He saw them looking at him and talking when he slipped through the door to change into his uniform.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The evening was quiet. Ashley said very little to George. Looking at her after the berating he received was difficult. It was impossible to ignore the tension between them, and George felt Ashley was a master at passive-aggressive behavior. He maintained a close watch on the cash drawer, made random cash counts in the middle of the night to make sure the money balanced. The night cash drop he counted five times before it slipped into the safe under the counter. Only Ashley knew the combination.

  “I guess it’s official,” Raymond said, strolling through the lobby. He wore a wrinkled white shirt and black pants. He didn’t wear a black vest.

  “Can you tuck in your shirt, please?” George asked politely through gritted teeth.

  Raymond frowned at George, but unbuttoned his pants and jammed the tails of the shirt into the waistline. When he strolled behind the front desk, Raymond smelled of stale cigarettes. He was unshaved. It was no worthy presentation.

  “Show me what to do.”

  It came out as demand and not a request. Over the next three hours, George went through the detailed bookkeeping and ledger computer work that came with the responsibility of the night auditor. Raymond appeared as clueless as he did when he walked into the hotel unannounced. Now employed with no moral goodness, Raymond showed no real interest in what George taught.

  Then he wandered outside the hotel. George watched him pace in front of the doors, flagrantly disrespecting the rules of the hotel. George wanted to dismiss it as ignorance instead of defiance. It was hard to do when Raymond continued to glance through the foyer at George while puffing on a cigarette.

  “He doesn’t seem like a very nice man,” Dunlop said when he walked from the elevators. It was routine for the man to wander downstairs when George waited alone for the morning to come. With the sudden appearance of Raymond, it felt as if Dunlop’s pleasantries would become problematic.

  George wanted to say something. He held back. It wasn’t out of protection for the new employee, but for the sake of the hotel.

  “Evening, sir,” Raymond said as he strolled through the lobby. He moved around the desk and George backed up to avoid a cushion of foul cigarette air that surrounded Raymond. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  While it was the right thing to say to a guest, Raymond delivered the phrase with a tainted. Infliction can make someone feel uncomf
ortable. Dunlop gave a cursory look to both George and Raymond. He turned his mouth to form words but fell short. Instead, he moved out of the lobby and returned to the elevator.

  “That’s a weird guy,” Raymond said. “Did you see that shirt he’s wearing?”

  Now George felt a wave of heat well inside him. “What about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Raymond shrugged and let it drop.

  He moved behind George and wandered into the storage room. After a few minutes, George peeked into the room. He knew Raymond had made more coffee. He saw the pot brewing, but George didn’t expect Raymond to pilfer the amenities.

  “You can’t take those.”

  Raymond put more bags of peanuts into his pockets and returned the box to the shelf. “Why not?” he asked. “The hotel doesn’t offer these things anymore.” He went to the coffee pot and filled a cup. “Ashley told me to take whatever I wanted. She said the new owners are going to throw away everything anyway.”

  He couldn’t argue for Ashley’s conversation with Raymond. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Ashley’s double standards manifested in a conversation with a stranger pocketing bags of peanuts, while terminating another employee for shampoo theft.

  Raymond gave George a look. It was the kind of look he got in high school from some boys who sized-up George for fights. While George wasn’t a fighter, he had the physical strength to hold his own if it came to it. Instead of backing down, George squared his shoulders.Raymond changed his tactic, smiling instead of frowning.

  “Come on, don’t you think it’s okay? They have so much stuff.”

  “Just check with Ashley again in the morning before you take anything else. I’m not saying you’re wrong about what she said. I want to hear it from her.”

  Raymond didn’t press it. He moved back to the front desk. He put down the coffee cup. Retrieving the smartphone from his pocket, he surfed videos to watch until George returned to the storage room.

  “What are you doing?” Raymond asked when he saw George moving the housekeeping carts away from the wall.

  “I usually get the carts ready for Angel and the rest of the cleaning staff.”

  “Is that something you have to do?”

  “No, it’s just something that helps them get ready for work.”

  Raymond made a face and said, “If I’m not getting paid to do that, I’m not doing it.”

  George shook his head. “What is it with you?” Ignoring Raymond’s defiance was impossible. “What are you doing here?”

  Assuming he had the edge over George, Raymond smiled. “I don’t answer to you. Ashley said you’re leaving anyway.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” But the statement came out weak, and George felt something he never expected working at the Comfort Hill Hotel: fear.

  Smugly, Raymond smiled and returned to the front desk.

  When Angel arrived that morning, she gave George a look that suggested she didn’t approve of Raymond but said nothing with the man so close.

  An overnight guest wanted to check out early. George returned to the front counter, he waited to the side while Raymond attempted to check out an overnight guest. Failing miserably, Raymond looked at George.

  “You helping me with this or what?”

  When George moved in to complete the checkout, the guest frowned at him as if it was his fault Raymond had botched the actions. The guest said nothing and left the hotel. Raymond retreated to the storage room instead of staying close to learn from his mistakes.

  “Morning George,” Elizabeth said when she wandered into the lobby. She looked at Raymond lurking in the hallway behind George but found it impossible to smile at him.

  “Morning,” George returned.

  “I’ve got opening shift this morning,” she said. Hair in a ponytail, she wore a classic waitress uniform with comfortable shoes. She wandered out of the foyer and into the rising sun.

  “She’s got a nice ass,” Raymond pointed out.

  George had no retort to the observation. He looked at Raymond with true distaste.

  “You don’t care about that, do you?” Raymond shouldered George.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Ashley told me about you. She said you were gay.”

  The inside of George’s mouth tasted of copper. He went into the men’s room to rinse out the blood from biting his cheek. When he looked at the soft brown eyes in the mirror, they were red-rimmed with tears.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next evening, George knew for sure trouble had come to the Comfort Hill Hotel. Two Vergennes police cruisers occupied the drop-off area under the awning near the entry. Once inside, he heard Carl Ohlweinny’s sober voice.

  “Look, I’m gone two days. I had to see my agent in New York.” He stood at the front desk. Ashley on the far side of the desk was looking stern while two police officers stood close to Carl, expecting him to become violent at any moment. “I didn’t take my laptop with me because I didn’t need it.”

  Immediately, George understood what happened. Another theft at the hotel brought the police. This time it wasn’t something minor. The laptop was Carl’s livelihood. He made a living off the expensive machine. Only staff had access to his room. Ashley glared at George because he brought a backpack with him to change in the men’s room. If he’d walked to work in the uniform, he’d have to work all night saturated in sweat.

  “You can’t tell me someone off the street just came and took it.”

  “What do you want us to do about it, sir?” It was the same police officer who took the report of George’s missing mountain bike. To think in a city with such a small population one had to worry about neighbors stealing made George disappointed with the community.

  “I want you to do your jobs.” Carl included both officers, and he looked at Ashley. “I expect the hotel to do something about it.” He gave George a look. His eyes softened. “Everything I have is on that laptop.”

  “Is it password protected?” George asked lightly. Ashley continued to glare at him, but he ignored her. The lobby began to fill up with long-term and short-term guests. Ignoring two police cars in the parking lot was impossible. The voyeurism irked George. While it was mild entertainment for witnesses, it was Carl’s life on display.

  Carl sighed and said, “Yeah, fortunately.”

  George intervened more directly now. He moved between Carl and the police officer with a hand on utility belt. “I’m sure the police will check with the pawn shop and the truck stop to see if anyone is trying to pawn off your laptop. Maybe you can track it somehow.”

  The realization came to Carl in a flash. Ashley’s fiery glare intensified. The harpy looked poised to strike.

  “I might be able to track it. I need to talk to my agent.”

  Duncan watched from the elevator hallway as George continued to defuse the situation. The police seemed relatively relaxed after his appearance. George walked Carl back toward the elevators. Dunlop nodded at George as he stood in the lobby.

  “Check with your agent. Check back in with me later. I will do a little digging around here.” George pressed the call button for the elevator.

  “You don’t think anyone from housekeeping took it, do you?” Carl wanted to know. “Ashley told the cops she thinks Angel took it.”

  George shook his head. “No, of course, not,” he said, but Carl had a look of doubt when the doors closed.

  Duncan hooked George’s elbow. Guiltily, George saw Dunlop’s crestfallen face from the lobby. “You need to rein in Ashley before she has the entire housekeeping staff deported,” Duncan hissed quietly. “She told the police she’s convinced one of the housekeeping staff took the laptop.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do?” George had no authority over the hotel. “I don’t have any direct access to the owners. Ashley is the only conduit to the top.”

  Duncan stood near the elevator doors. When the doors opened on the ground floor, he moved inside. “I fear this place has bec
ome toxic.” It was a statement that made George uncomfortable.

  He changed in the men’s room and went to the front desk. In the short time he left the left the lobby, the small crowd dispersed and the police officers left the building. Raymond and Ashley were in her office.

  George heard something from Ashley that he couldn’t remember hearing before: laughter.

  Raymond lounged in the only other chair in Ashley’s office except for the one she occupied behind the desk. George went about his usual routine, trying to ignore their hushed conversation. It was the indifference that upset him most. Even with the crisis of theft in the hotel, once the guests left, she didn’t really care.

  “George, I’m going to need you to clean rooms on the first floor tonight.” This announcement came from inside the office. Ashley didn’t bother addressing him directly, assuming he heard the orders.

  When he looked in on her and Raymond, they stared at him accusingly.

  “Is this something permanent?”

  She gave him a look of smug dissatisfaction. “It is going to be something you’ll start doing until I find replacements for the housekeeping staff.”

  “Are you firing everyone?”

  She leaned back on her perch. The harpy preened her management feathers with thick smugness. “I haven’t decided yet.” She looked at Raymond and back to George. “Raymond says you haven’t trained him well enough on the front desk. Whenever a guest arrives tonight, I want you to see that he gets more training.”

  It was impossible to argue with the facts. Two people who had different agendas than George made him feel insignificant.

  “And I told Raymond it was okay to take some of the amenities we’re not offering guests anymore. He said you were upset with him taking a few bags of peanuts last night.”

  Again, George said nothing. The admission of hypocritical, open theft left nothing to argue.

  “Raymond’s going to start taking over the desk full-time on your nights off.” It was delivered with a hint of contempt. “Since you’re having trouble keeping up around here, I wanted to make sure the desk gets attention.”

 

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