by L. S. Scott
Ms. Norman returned and I stood respectfully. “Tara will call a car that will take you to the hotel,” she informed. “Alan will be waiting. He will give you the tour and set you up with a suite. The job starts a week from today. That will give you plenty of time to get settled in and have a look around the city. I think you will like it here.”
“A car? I actually drove here myself. My Bronco is parked across the street. Everything I own is in it,” I said worriedly.
“That is no problem at all,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her elegant hand. “I will call a driver to drive your vehicle over and park it in the secure parking garage at the hotel. I will instruct him to leave your keys with Alan’s assistant.”
Immediately she was on the phone giving Tara the new details. My mind was a whirlwind. People with money really don’t have the same worries as people without. They just, call someone.
Chapter Twenty-two
I concluded my business with Ms. Norman and she left me in Tara’s capable hands. Two driver’s showed up, one for me and one for my Bronco. I felt a little apprehensive about letting a stranger driver my truck, loaded with my every possession, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence where I was from, but Tara assured me it would fine. I thanked her for her help, she congratulated me, and I rode the elevator down with the driver, Ellis.
Ellis appeared to be in his late forties, he had kind brown eyes and a gentle voice. As he drove he clued me in on some of the highlights of the city, giving me pointers on the less touristy places that I should visit. A very sweet gesture even though I knew I wouldn’t remember a word, too much to take in all at once. One thing I did make a mental note of, for some reason, was that Ellis was Mr. Flynn’s personal driver and Mr. Flynn himself had sent him to pick me up in his Mercedes.
Though I knew I would be scrubbing toilets, serving food and taking reservations for the next six weeks, I felt like a princess pulling up to a palace in this beautiful car. Ellis jumped out and opened my door before I could do it myself. I stepped out onto the curb and took it all in, the people, the obviously, very rich people, everywhere.
Ellis closed the car door behind me, “Thank you Ellis, it was very nice to meet you,” I said and extended my hand to him.
He looked at me oddly then took just my finger-tips in his hand and bowed his head.
“It was my pleasure Miss Mills.” Before I could ask him to please call me Natalie, I heard my name being called.
“Miss Mills, I assume,” I heard over my shoulder. I turned to find a well-dressed middle aged man waiting near the entrance of the hotel.
“Yes, and you must be Alan. I’m sorry; I don’t know your last name.”
“Johnson,” he replied.
“Hello Mr. Johnson, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
I extended my hand. I had shaken more hands in my first four hours in Las Vegas than in my entire life. He shook my hand firmly and replied in kind.
“If you will follow me, I will give you the grand tour,” he said. “It is a massive place and we will not see it all, but we will tour the main floor, the departments you will be working in and view a few rooms,” he explained as he opened the door and allowed me to enter before him.
I scanned the elaborate lobby and soaring staircase. At the top leaned against the banister I thought I spotted a familiar face over-looking the lobby, but Alan demanded my attention in another direction. We walked through the hotel, seeing everything he had promised. He was patient and kind and gave me a lot of information and history about the place.
It was built in 1965 by Collier Flynn and is one of the oldest, yet finest hotels in Las Vegas. He went on and on, with great pride about the fabulous Flynn. As I listened, I hoped everyone that I had to work with would turn out to be as nice as Mr. Johnson.
We viewed three different levels of rooms including a small lower level suite. What was considered small and plain, was still much nicer than the trailer I grew up in and I dared to ask,
“Is this where I’ll be staying?”
“No Miss Mills,” he answered simply.
I assumed that meant that there was an even smaller suite for me, which would still be more than fine. I stretched my back and absent mindedly lifted my foot and rolled my ankle. Alan smiled at me, completely aware that I was unaccustomed to the heels I had been walking around in all day.
“Come Miss Mills, we will get you set up in your suite. I’m sure you have had a roller coaster of a day.”
“Thank you Mr. Johnson. I have really enjoyed the tour, you have been so informative. How long have you worked here?” I tried to engage Mr. Johnson in small talk and build a friendly relationship.
In a place like this I needed every friend I could get. My tactic worked and we chit chatted about his twenty-eight years of employment at Flynn Resorts and how he started as a valet and worked his way into management. He inquired about me and I glazed over my college resume, my dream of getting the Flynn Resorts internship and ended with my, falling into the arms of a stranger debacle, that had started my day. He chuckled and patted me on the back in a very encouraging and fatherly way, pointing out that at least it didn’t set the tone for the entire day. Alan was undeniably a bright side, kind of person.
We entered his large office and he offered me a beverage and a seat. I accepted both, hoping the liquid would drown out the sound of my stomach growling. I sat in the comfortable chair in front of his desk and resisted the desire to kick off my shoes and kneed the soft rug with my cramped toes and thanked him when he handed me a cold bottle of designer water. At his desk he thumbed through his messages and stopped when he got to one in particular and immediately picked up the phone.
“Mr. Flynn, this is Alan. I had a message to call you before I set Miss Mills up with a suite.”
He made no effort to conceal his conversation. I just knew my suite was about to be down-graded to a single, but still, that was better than living in an unfamiliar city by myself.
“Yes sir, right away,” Alan said in the receiver before hanging it up. “Ok, young lady, I need you to follow me.”
I stood and followed him without asking questions, because whatever was going down was at the request of Mr. Flynn. We climbed the spiral staircase and I followed him down a hall to a large ornate door, Alan knocked before turning the knob and entering.
“Hello Jessica,” Alan greeted the striking assistant that sat pecking away on a keyboard.
“Hello, how are you doing today Alan,” she asked, barely looking up from her work.
“Wonderful. Jessica, this is Natalie Mills. She will be starting next week in the intern position,” he explained, as he introduced me.
She looked up at me for a second over her glasses, “Nice to meet you Natalie,” she said coolly. “Mr. Flynn would like you to take this to him when you go in,” she said, handing a file to Mr. Johnson. He took the folder and ushered me into Mr. Flynn’s office.
Connor Flynn sat behind the most enormous hand carved desk I had ever laid my eyes on. With his phone in one hand at his ear, he acknowledged our presence with a smile and a welcoming wave, with the other. I felt uncomfortable being present while he completed his business conversation. He concluded his call and tossed the cell on the river barge of a desk. He made his way around and sauntered across the room with a warm smile.
“Alan, how are you today my friend,” he asked with the earnest affection of someone speaking with an old comrade.
I found it very enduring. I could picture a nine year old blonde haired blue eyed boy running around the hotel, pestering a young Alan Johnson, who was working as a valet.
“Miss Mills,” Flynn addressed me, snapping me out of my reverie, “I trust that Alan has given you the grand tour,” he said as he slipped his hands in his pockets.
His suit jacket was draped over a side chair and his tie was hanging loosely around his open collar. I found all this to be very distracting and had to kick myself into a verbal response.
“Yes sir. He has
been a wonderful guide,” I bragged on my new friend and hopefully, my ally.
Alan smiled at me appreciatively. “Jessica asked me to bring you this.” He handed over the file to Mr. Flynn.
“Yes, thank you. And thank you for welcoming our new employee. I’ll take it from here, Alan.”
Alan looked at him with mild surprise. Mr. Flynn raised his brow and flashed a sideways grin.
“Yes sir Mr. Flynn,” he said and excused himself and I was left in limbo unsure if I should follow or stay.
“I’m sure you would like to get settled in,” he regarded me considerately.
“Yes sir, it’s been an exciting day, but a little exhausting,” I glanced up at the antique clock on the wall. A little after three in the afternoon, no wonder I was starving.
“Well let’s go then. I will show you to your suite.”
He took a key card out of the file folder and dropped the file on the corner of his desk. I stood in stunned silence and watched him move to the door. He opened it and turned his bright blue eyes on me, again giving me the ladies first signal.
Jessica eye balled us as we passed through her office into the hall to the private elevator. I followed quietly and flipped through my mental files to find a conversation topic, but whether it was the close proximity of Mr. Flynn’s antagonistic sex appeal or low blood sugar, I came up with nothing. The one thing I kept thinking was, why, would Connor Flynn, be showing me to my room.
We stood side by side in the elevator, and he scrolled through his phone the same way he had done that morning. Clearly, he utilized every idle second to check and respond to messages. His other hand was in his pocket and I found myself psychoanalyzing, why that hand in his pocket, was so distracting to me. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye over a cockeyed grin. My cheeks lit up when I realized that I had been gawking.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, too famished to care about my embarrassment.
I tried to focus on my reflection in the shiny metal door. When I snuck a quick glance at his reflection he had returned his attention to his phone, but I could see a smile lingering on his lips. It wasn’t until the elevator door dinged that it occurred to me we had traveled much higher than the small suite Alan showed me earlier in the day. The lit up number indicated we had stopped on the twenty-ninth floor. The door opened and a hand on the small of my back urged me into the hall.
“Are you ok Miss Mills,” he asked sincerely as I walked beside him down the hall.
“Yes, I’m just confused.”
“Confused about what, Miss Mills?”
The ding of another elevator followed by the sound of a rolling cart distracted me. When it rounded the corner and started rolling toward us the delicious smell made my mouth water.
“Ah, here we go.” He stopped at a door and pulled the key card out of his pocket, with a quick swipe the latch clicked and he pushed the door opened. “After you Miss Mills,” he said.
I walked in slowly. I thought it was nice of him to show me some of the nicer suites, but at this point I was really ready to take a load off.
“This is nice,” I said politely.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replied. “You will be staying here for several months.”
He ignored me as I wheeled to face him in shock. He shelled out several bills from a shiny money clip and tipped the dapper waiter who left the cart inside the door. My attention was torn between Connor Flynn’s dazzling smile, the lavish room and the aroma coming from the cart that was goading my empty stomach into growling.
“I don’t understand. I mean, this, this is too much,” I insisted motioning around the room.
“Non-sense, it’s one of our smaller suites,” He contended and shrugged it off. “I’m guessing you haven’t had lunch.”
I stared stupidly at him. He had to be wondering how the hell I managed to earn the title of valedictorian, but did not let on to such.
“I heard your stomach growling before we got in the elevator,” he confessed with a chuckle. “So I had lunch sent up for you. And, I had your things brought up as well. Your keys and parking stub are on the desk.”
My head was literally spinning with so many questions I didn’t know where to start. I’m just an intern. I was completely floored when the man showed up at my interview and now here he stood, showing me my very own luxury suite and ordering me lunch.
“Why are you doing this,” I asked, suddenly very suspicious. “I’m quite certain that this is not part of your job description.”
“I’m the boss Miss Mills. My job description changes at my discretion. You could potentially be in management training in a few weeks. I like to know the people running my hotel, that’s all.”
I flushed at my brazen interrogation of Connor Flynn, the only billionaire I had ever met in my life and my new boss.
“Of course, I apologize. This is an amazing opportunity and the room, it’s, I appreciate it. But, I would be more than happy in one of the smaller rooms.”
“You should eat and get settled in.” He held up my card key and laid it on the entrance table on his way out, “Have a good evening Miss Mills,” he said without looking back.
The door closed behind him and I was alone. I pinched myself, hard; to make sure I hadn’t passed out from low blood sugar. When I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming, I jumped out of my shoes and bounced up and down, squealing like a giddy school girl. I then fed my face with the best burger and fries I had ever tasted. Little did I know, Connor Flynn was standing in the hall checking an important email, overheard my zealous reaction, and entered the elevator with a satisfied smile.
Chapter Twenty-three
An insistent rapping roused me from my food and excitement induced coma. I moved to the door and peeked through the hole with one eye to find Jessica the assistant rigidly standing outside my door. I hopelessly tried to straighten my clothes and twisted my now loose hair pulling it over one shoulder. Just before she knocked again I opened the door.
“Hello Jessica, please come in,” I invited cheerfully.
“That won’t be necessary. I am just here to deliver your cell phone. I trust you know how to operate it,” she said flatly.
“Yes, and thank you. I could have come down and picked it up myself,”
“That’s what I said too, yet, here I am, making deliveries to an intern. Good night Miss Mills.”
Jessica’s cold and condescending tone said even more than her words. For a second I considered following her into the hall and trying to salvage the encounter but thought better of it. I accepted the fact that I had met my first foe. You win some. You lose some.
The new cell phone in my hand reminded me that I had yet to call my brother. I let the door close indifferently on the negative funk left behind by assistant Jessica and turned my attention to finding my old cell phone, because who the hell knows anyone’s number these days.
I unzipped the back of my skirt and shimmied out of it as I walked around the suite looking for my burgundy clutch and I was struck again by the opulence of the room. Due to shock and hunger, I hadn’t taken the time to explore and appreciate my new home before I stuffed my face and crashed.
The walls were dark chocolate. A queen sized bed was adorned in luxurious cream and tan bedding and flanked by floor to ceiling windows that provided a view of the city and a mountain ridge in the distance. To the left was a mahogany desk and chair, to the right, a deep soft brown sofa covered with pillows. There was a dark wood coffee table with a beautiful floral arrangement in the center of its glass top and a twelve drawer mahogany dresser against the wall providing a home for the big screen television.
I found my bags stacked neatly behind the sofa, tossed them on the bed, and set about unpacking to find some shorts and a t-shirt. I unearthed my favorite pair of cut off blue jean shorts and a wife beater, in the mountain of wrinkled laundry, and slipped them on. The debate then became, should I iron them before I put them away, or, do it when I get ready to put them on. Not too much
energy was wasted on that subject, I put them away wrinkled. Everything was sorted and put away and still no clutch. I was sure I had it when I left Flynn Tower, but after that, who knew. The car, I left it in Mr. Flynn’s Mercedes.
I flopped on the bed with my new cell in hand, racking my brain, trying to remember my brother’s number, when it vibrated. The screen indicated that I had received a text message from Alan Johnson. The text was sent to let me know that my uniforms would be ready the following day. I replied with a thank you and curiously scrolled through my contacts to see who else was programmed. The contact list consisted of: Leslie Adams, Ellis Bradley, Jessica Deeds, Connor Flynn, Front Desk, Marcia Garrison, Zachary Harris, Alan Johnson, Karen Norman, Tara Neal, Casey Smith, Corey Sparks and Janet Walker.
Interesting, it was obviously not the entire staff and I wondered what made them significant. Ellis Bradley, that was the driver’s name. I pulled up the number and placed the call. Maybe he had found my bag and hadn’t told anyone yet so I could avoid a little embarrassment.
The phone rang, once, twice, three times, and then I heard, “Hello, this is Ellis.”
“Hello Ellis, this is Natalie Mills, I am sorry to bother you.”
“Nonsense Miss Mills, it’s no bother at all. What can I do for you this evening?” His voice was sincere.
“I have misplaced my handbag and I am crossing my fingers that I left it in the car when you dropped me off this afternoon. You didn’t happen to find it did you?”
“Well, I haven’t but let me look in the back,” he offered kindly.
“Oh no Ellis, don’t stop what you’re doing on account of me,” I insisted, worried that he was driving Mr. Flynn somewhere.
“I’m actually just sitting in front of the hotel waiting on Mr. Flynn.” I heard the car door shut and a shuffling in the phone. “Well Miss Mills, it is your lucky day. It was in the floor of the back seat. I will have it sent up to you.”