by Josie Leigh
“I get to do the bucket check tonight, I know,” I grumbled and went about printing out a room list. “Ugh, I know that the list of pay in advance rooms’ll be, at least, two pages, too.”
“Yup,” she grinned, satisfied that I was sufficiently punished for being five minutes late.
“You would’ve made me do the check tonight anyway, though. Even if I wasn’t late,” I told her, running back to the antiquated dot matrix printer to grab the forms I’d printed out.
“It’s true,” she said, flipping her ash blonde hair over her shoulder and polishing her nails against her blazer before cracking a smile.
“Slave driver,” I mumbled in mock petulance.
“Lazy,” she laughed as I went about checking the registration forms against the room list versus signatures and credit card imprints. The bucket check was the most tedious job on the shift checklist, but also the most important. It was, easily, the difference between winning and losing a credit card dispute that might occur in the future with a past guest. I was grateful that we were filled to capacity tonight, but having to double check three hundred plus rooms for correct information takes hours to complete.
“I’m going to run to the bar and grab a glass of diet brown stuff,” Amy said, pulling my attention away from my task. “Do you want anything?”
“Non-diet brown stuff?” I asked, pulling down the P.I.A. (or paid in advanced) list from the previous shift. The soda in the bar was not name brand, and didn’t taste like regular cola or diet cola, hence the less than appetizing name for our beverages of choice.
“Or do you want to go? I know Adam’s in the kitchen tonight,” she grinned at me, like my date with Adam was a secret, when I knew everyone on the property gossiped constantly.
“That’s okay,” I said, not looking up from the room numbers I’m filling in on the new form. “I’m sure I’ll catch him later.”
“Oooh, trouble in paradise?” she asked, taking a seat on the dip in the front desk between our computers. Amy was, by far, my favorite supervisor at the resort. She was young at heart, but old enough to be my mother. She was constantly dressing up her uniform with knee high leather boots and scarves. She was a widow who moved to Arizona from Las Vegas, but her passion for life was prevalent in everything she does. However, gossip was something she lived for, and she didn’t let a single piece pass her by.
“It’s not like that with him,” I tried to relax my shoulders at the inquisition I knew was coming, still focusing on the list in front of me, though not being nearly as diligent as I should have been about double checking a list that’s gone through every shift. “Did room 115 check out early?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
Hearing the tapping of her manicured nails on her keyboard, I stick their folio form sideways so that I can continue. “Yes, they weren’t scheduled to leave until tomorrow. Thank God! That means one less room we have to walk tonight!”
“Thank God is right!” I laughed. “Do we have a walk rate negotiated already?”
“Ugh, NO!” she growled, “I’ll take care of it after I run and grab our caffeine. And don’t think you’ve gotten out of talking about Adam.”
Rolling my eyes at the metal containers in front of me, I mumbled, “I know,” over my shoulder as she left the desk. As soon as I heard the door close behind me, my eyes drifted toward the television set up in the lobby for bowl season. The sounds of the Rose Bowl pre-game show were filling the, surprisingly, bustling area.
Because the hotel fairies work fast, the Christmas tree was already packed away for another year, which prevented bored front desk employees from trying to flip key cards in to it. The poinsettias littering every available surface of the lobby, from the baby grand to the rustic coffee tables, even the floors beside the pleather couches and window ledges, were the only sign that it was still the holiday season. The lobby had a high end southwestern feel to it, all dusty colors, weird cacti, and clay tile floors, but the walls were half brick/half glass, providing an illusion of light and dark. The wood and glass work throughout the hotel was something to marvel at, though, between intricate carvings on the banquet hall doors and the stained glass inlay dotting the entryways and the gift shop walls.
“It’s New Years’ Day,” Amy announced as she reappeared from the bar. “Aren’t hotels supposed to be slow?” she groaned.
“You’d think! It was a ghost town at Thanksgiving, but we were busy on Christmas because of the Insight bowl, remember? Now we’re busy because of the Fiesta Bowl,” I shrugged, shoving the first half of the bucket to the side and pulling the next half toward me.
“It’s the bands staying here. That’s why it’s so nut balls crazy, right?”
“I’m guessing so, but I’ve only worked here since September, so you’ll have to tell me.”
“Usually, the bands aren’t that big, but this one is gigantic!”
“There are two hundred and twenty five members,” I informed her, proudly.
“And at four members per room, plus their directors and roadies, they still have nearly eighty rooms!” she lamented, before turning toward me with a raised eyebrow. “How do you know how many of them there are?” she asked.
“It’s TBDBITL! Of course I know how many there are!” I said, trying to act affronted, but I know that I’ve just passed, or failed, a nerd test.
“That’s because Lucas is in love with everything Ohio State,” Brian announced as he took his place at the bell desk.
“Don’t you have someone to pick up at the airport?” I scowled at him.
“I just saw Adam rocking a Hurricane’s sweatshirt in the bar,” Amy said. “Is that why you guys ‘aren’t like that’?”
Groaning inwardly, I tried hard not to roll my eyes at Amy’s words, because I know Brian was just waiting for an in on what was going on with me and one of the line cooks in the restaurant. As bad as Amy was about gossip, Brian was a thousand times worse, and she knew it. Almost nothing could stop them from double teaming me for information.
“Don’t you have to set up a walk rate and figure out who we’re sending over?” I reminded her, hoping to change the subject again.
“Oh no, Luke! You aren’t getting out of that question,” Brian said, sidling up to the desk to hear whatever confession I’m about to make.
“No, the difference in sports teams isn’t the issue,” I told them. “The issue is that he thinks I may be too wild for him,” this time I did roll my eyes.
“Really?!” Amy’s mouth dropped open at my words, as Brian started to snort with laughter.
“Pot smoking, drinking at Casey Moore’s every other night Adam is afraid you are too wild for him?” Brian asked, incredulously. “You didn’t give it up on the first date, did you?”
“Ugh, no,” I said. “It wasn’t really a date, we just went for drinks, but I didn’t invite him home with me,” I shook my head.
“Then, how would he get that impression?” Amy asked, trying to calm her reaction.
“I may have gotten a couple of phone calls when we were out?” I shrugged, throwing my shoulder length artificial blue black hair over my shoulder, trying to play it off.
“And?”
“They were just phone calls from other guys asking what I was up to, and if I wanted to hang out,” I frowned.
“So he thinks you are a player?” Amy laughed, “Aren’t guys usually all over a girl that doesn’t want a commitment?”
“I know this guy is!” Brian agreed, pointing at himself and shooting us a smarmy grin. I pressed my fingers to my forehead and closed my eyes, waiting for the urge to growl in frustration to pass. Brian, while not an unattractive man, was definitely well past old enough to be my father, but not quite old enough to be my grandfather, and a confirmed bachelor. He was the first to tell you that he’d rather spend his time golfing than with a ‘whiny woman.’ I, secretly, wondered if he was gay. It was possible that he was just a washed up semi-pro golfer, never good enough to make the tour, that wasn’t ready to
give up the golf groupies.
“They were just friends,” I lie. “Besides, I’m not looking for a commitment right now, why shouldn’t I be honest about that? He did bring me soup on Saturday, though, when I was home sick. That was sweet,” I let out a small smile at my words, because I did enjoy Adam taking care of me more than I’d ever admit to mixed company. Just then, the whoosh of the automatic doors signaled the first of many check ins, effectively dropping the subject for most of the remainder of the shift.
“So, what’d you do last night?” I asked Amy when there was a lull in the evening. The marching band members wanted transportation to anywhere fun in Tempe all night, and we were exhausted from coordinating their pickups and drop offs, airport runs and Fiesta Bowl package recipients checking in.
“A bunch of us went to D and E’s, fun times,” she smiled. “You?”
“Josh and I had to work the desk last night until eleven, so I just went home,” I shrugged. “It just wasn’t enough time to get anywhere fun and we aren’t allowed to drink here.”
“You didn’t do anything? Come on, Lucas, you know I’m not going to buy that,” she said, leveling me with a ‘mom’ look and bending down to yank her knee high black boots back into place. I had no idea how she stood for eight hours on those things, I doubted I’d last eight minutes.
“Well, I did have a couple of friends over, but nothing like usual,” I said, absently alphabetizing the registration forms from the people who checked out that day.
“I’m disappointed,” she pouted. “No super topless lap dances to ring in the New Year? Are you going soft on me?”
“Is that what goes on at your parties?” a voice asked from the other side of the desk, behind me. I closed my eyes briefly, before turning away from Amy’s amusement to face Adam. If I hadn’t been prepared for the look on his face, which was a perfect mix of disgust and intrigue, I would’ve laughed. Adam was an interesting guy, but was starting to become a paradox I wasn’t sure I wanted to decipher. He was attractive enough, over six feet tall, slightly bulky in a toned way, bald head, and the most beautiful aqua blue eyes I’d ever seen. Add to that the fact that he was a culinary school graduate, it put him over the top on pros, which made me say yes when he asked me for drinks last week.
“Um, sometimes, not last night,” I answered, distractedly. “What’s up?” I asked, hoping to find out what brought him to my part of the hotel. I knew Adam was more interested than disgusted by the idea of topless lap dances though because he was a boob man. It wasn’t hard to figure out; he hadn’t stopped staring at mine since he met me. Even if I hadn’t noticed the fixation, he told me that he and the male restaurant staff ogle me when I come in for dinner on my nights off. It was a great ice breaker on a ‘first date.’
However, I couldn’t fault them. I knew my breasts were spectacular and I used them to my advantage, frequently, even though I could make a stellar case for a reduction as they were far too large for my frame. I was five foot seven with a slender waist and what my mom called child bearing hips. The right pair of heels took my long legs to another level entirely, even though they were so white they were blinding. My hair was naturally a mousy brown, but a drunken night with a few friends in October had turned my brown hair into a controversial blue black. My favorite feature, though, were my eyes. Depending on the day, they could be the color of the sky before a storm or the ocean on a cloudless day. My irises were circled in black, making the blue pop, along with thick, dark lashes. My mom always told me that even though my eyes changed color, it never gave away my thoughts or mood. She told me that my emotions were like the vault of secrets, I never let anyone in.
“Not much, just came to say hi cause we didn’t hang out last night,” he said, looking around the now deserted lobby. “We just finished closing out the kitchen,” he explained.
“That’s cool. Amy and I still have an hour until night audit shows,” I told him, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt, knowing that Amy and Danny, the night driver, were watching the exchange between us carefully. Brian had gone home a few hours earlier, thank goodness!
“So you had a party last night and you didn’t call?” he asked, his voice betraying a small amount of hurt.
“I didn’t have a party, I called my friend, Brady, before I left and he was hanging out with a couple of people. They were looking for something to do, so they came over and we played poker. Funnily enough, I didn’t even mean to call Brady, but his roommate’s number is one digit different than his,” I babbled, not sure why I was sharing so much. “I didn’t want to be rude, so I invited him over instead.”
“Are, like, all of your friends guys, Lucas?” he asked, the disgusted look back on his face.
“No,” I shook my head in emphasis, “I have a few chick friends, but it’s too much drama.”
“My sister said you surround yourself with guys because you are looking for a husband and that I should stay away from you,” he told me, his face so serious, I almost couldn’t contain the laughter bubbling inside me. “She said she doesn’t believe that you aren’t dying for a commitment.”
“Um, wow, I don’t even know what to say to that, Adam.”
“Well, she said it was either that, or you’re a slut.”
My mouth dropped open, reflexively, and I heard Amy coughing behind me, just as shocked by his words as I was. “Those aren’t the words the average guy uses to get me into bed, but damned if it didn’t make my panties melt, Adam,” I said, with no emotion. “You’ve got me, I’m a giant slut. Let’s go fuck behind the trash cans,” I waved my hands in disgust. It wasn’t something I should’ve said at work, even though it was after 10pm and the lobby was empty, but I couldn’t believe his nerve!
“I told her that you weren’t a slut, Lucas,” he said, rolling his eyes at my display. “But I’m not entirely convinced that you don’t want more than you are letting on. Especially after Saturday, I mean, you just let me take care of you. I need to get my head on straight and decide if I’m ready to be what you need,” he continued, assuming he knew what was best for me. Apparently, the three years he had on me, age wise, provided a wealth of experience I could only imagine.
“I let you bring me soup when I was sick, I didn’t realize that signaled a lifetime commitment,” I snorted. “Whatever, man, it’s cool,” I continued, blowing him off.
“Don’t be like that, I want us to be okay,” he sighed.
“Believe me, we’re fine,” I said, turning back to my end of shift balancing and dismissing him. “Oh and Adam?”
“Yeah?” he said, turning back to me.
“Go Bucks,” I gave him the biggest smile I could muster in the situation, which got even bigger upon his scowl.
On my way across the street, I decided to call my booty call number one because I, obviously, wasn’t getting any from Adam anytime soon. Society’s rules would dictate Adam’s sister was right and I was a slut, but I didn’t feel that way. I had standards of who I would and wouldn’t sleep with. I preferred sex to relationships because sex always made me feel good, whereas relationships were full of drama and having to meet his friends and blah, blah, blah.
I didn’t have time for a relationship, between working and going to school full-time. I was a couple of years away from a bachelor’s degree in engineering, so my books were my boyfriend. I did, however, make time for sex. It was one of the best stress reducers I could find that was legal and didn’t require a prescription, aside the birth control I needed to regulate my periods anyway. I had three guys I could always fall back on if I needed to get laid and wasn’t seeing anyone. They were more than willing to drive to my house when I needed and leave before the sun came up.
“Hey, hot stuff,” Eric’s smooth voice answered.
“Hey, man, what are you up to tonight?” I asked.
“Ugh! I wish you’d called me thirty minutes ago,” he whined. “I was in Tempe, and I would’ve been sitting outside your door right now like a stray puppy, but I’m all the w
ay in Gilbert already.”
“Ugh, and I can’t convince you to turn around?” I pouted.
“I wish! I pulled the early shift tomorrow, so it’s straight to bed, no extracurricular activities for me tonight,” he lamented. “What happened to Adam and Trevor? Not that it matters, I mean, if you want to hold off ‘til tomorrow?”
“Let’s not talk about Adam and Trevor,” I growled as I pulled into my parking space in front of my apartment building.
“And now we have to,” Eric mused. “You not wanting to talk about something always means good things, well funny things.”
“I cut Trevor loose,” I told him. “We were too incompatible. He was weird and don’t even get me started on his penis!”
“Gerkin?” he asked, wryly.
“If only,” I answered, wistfully. “The thing was enormous. The entire time I felt like he was trying to rip me in half. Not even remotely satisfying, only incredibly painful.”
“Gee, way to give a guy a complex,” Eric muttered, as I approached my third floor apartment, sending a nod to Ron, the pimp who lived three doors down, who was sitting in the hallway with one of his ladies.
“This is why I didn’t want to talk about it!” I unlocked my door and shoved into my nearly empty apartment. “I don’t know why guys think a gargantuan penis is ideal, because I’d much prefer one that doesn’t bounce off my cervix.”
“Well, I accept your seal of approval for normal sized junk, then,” he Chuckled. “And Adam?”
“Fuck, I hoped we could move on,” I grumbled, setting my tiny purse and keys on the card table that doubled as my kitchen table and walking toward the walk-in closet in my vanity area to feed my cat.
“No such luck, kiddo.” I pulled a can of food down from the shelf and took a deep breath. As I pulled back the tab, my cat appeared beside my ankles, weaving in and around.
“Fine,” I sighed. “He’s decided that either I’m a slut, or I’m just begging for a man to come and rescue me. I’m sorry, I mean, his sister decided.” Putting the food in her bowl, I moved to my galley style kitchen to toss the empty can in the trash before heading back through the vanity area to my bedroom. My apartment may not have been in the greatest of neighborhoods, but it seriously rocked. It was massive, and cost me less than a dollar per square foot, including pet rent and utilities. It had dingy periwinkle carpets, a pest control problem, and did I mention I lived three doors down from a pimp?, but it was home.