Back in the Rain

by Elen Chase

  Chapter 48

  In the following days, we kept preparing for the plan. My waiter skills improved enough to let me pass the interview with the catering company, and on June 29 we began to work at the Palace Hotel in preparation of the gala dinner. Dan and I were pretending to be strangers and, working in different sections, we ended up seeing each other only after the end of our shift. Dan was on the room cleaning duty, while I was a waiter. I was wearing the prosthesis every single day, but sometimes I still found it hard to identify the reflection in the mirror as myself. Soon the cosmetics I had to use to put it on caused me some sort of allergic reaction, and my face was always itchy and full of bruises when I got to take it off at night. No medicine nor Sara’s home remedies could seem to soothe that rash; I couldn't wait for that torture to end.

  On July 1st we finally managed to find out about the room Domme would be staying in, thanks to Dan shamelessly flirting with the girl from the reception desk. Leaving aside my personal thoughts about how he had obtained it, the information was vital for the success of the plan. The room was on the third floor, on the opposite side of the emergency exit where Dan was supposed to run away from.

  "I can make it in a couple of minutes, which will make things easier for you," he told me that night, in bed, his 3D model of the hotel displaying over his arm. "As you know, the central generator is down here, in the area midway from the kitchen to the storage basement, behind this door. The chef has the key, and when his shift’s over, he leaves it in his locker. I’ll steal it tomorrow and have a copy made. When they start preparing for the fireworks you’ll have to bring the leftovers from the buffet back inside to make room for the dessert, and that's the best time for you to disappear. The kitchen will be a mess, so they won't see you going down; even if they do, you can pretend to be going to the basement to get some ingredient. You’ll get to the generator using the copy of the key that I’ll give you. When the fireworks start, cut the power off and get out of that room before somebody finds you; you can lock the door as you go out, so you'll buy me enough time to run away even if somebody gets there immediately to fix the problem. Then casually walk up to the kitchen and get away from the closest exit while the lights are still down. When you're out, take out the bag with a change of clothes from the spot we designed behind the garbage; go change your shirt in a back alley and then head for our meeting place, passing through the main street. Everybody will be drunk or high; either way it's the perfect cover. I’ll be there, and if for any reason I'm not…"

  "That won't be the case, since you said you would contact me as soon as something went wrong."

  "If I am not there anyway, get back without me and call Bill."

  I had no intention of leaving him behind, not in a thousand years. But it was clear that he wanted to be sure I'd be as safe as possible, so I lied only to keep him quiet, "Sure, I’ll do that."

  "One last thing, I decided to add one more particular to the plan, and I need you for that."

  "What is it?"

  "In the morning, I want you to help me hide in the room. I was planning to go inside without paying much attention to the cameras, since I’m part of the cleaning staff. However we can't take the risk of somebody looking at the surveillance videos and seeing me going in and never getting out of the room. So we'll meet in the third floor storage room, and I already checked that there are no cameras there. You'll wear my uniform, put on a wig resembling my hair and I'll hide in the cleaning cart. You'll get me in the room and leave me there, then you'll return to the storeroom and change back. By the end of my shift I am supposed to leave the cart there anyway, so this way I won’t draw any attention."

  "Isn't it the same? Somebody could realize you never left the storage room."

  "No, look here," he said, zooming on that area of the third floor. "The passage from the storeroom to the stairs is not visible from the security cameras, so it's possible to go back to the first floor from here without being seen."

  "Perfect. How do I get rid of your clothes and the wig?"

  "Put them in the burnable garbage and throw it in the incinerator when you go back down."

  "Got it," I said. "Also, I was thinking… If I’m missing by the end of the party, Hutchison will be in a difficult position, since he recommended me for this job."

  "Pretend to feel sick before going down to the basement then. Your chief will tell you to rest and leave early, since nobody wants a waiter to vomit in front of the guests or in the kitchen. You can act it out, but don't overdo it, or they won't let you serve at the party. Can you do it?"

  "I can try. Or maybe I can starve myself so I’ll be feeling sick for real." I was just kidding, but Dan took me seriously.

  "Don't do anything so stupid. If you think you can pull it off, good. If you can't, just stick to our original plan. Who cares if Hutchison gets the complaints of the catering company; the only thing that matters is that the sect doesn't find out about us and our plan."

  "You’re right, I'll see how things go that day and decide how to act consequently." I took some time to reflect, then an intrusive thought made its way through my mind. "You said we'll change our clothes in the third floor storage room, right? In the morning."

  "Yes, why?"

  "The thought of us changing our clothes in a small dark place is strangely arousing..."

  "Forget it."

  "I haven't said anything yet."

  "We're not doing it in that storage room during the plan."

  "It could help us release some stress."

  "No way," he said and smacked me on the head. "You're getting too lusty recently."

  "Since we started working at that hotel, we're not doing it at all."

  "It's just a few days."

  "And it’s a lot of time." I rested my head on his chest, drawn by the inviting scent of his skin, but the slicing pain on my bruised face caused me to jump back.

  Dan gently caressed my head and told me, "Just a little longer, it will be over soon."

  Chapter 49

  Finally the 3rd of July came. On the morning train to Uptown, I was so nervous that my hands were all sweaty and I could feel my heart beating fast. My colleagues and I spent the first half of the morning preparing the garden and the park area for the party and rehearsing everybody's role for the evening. Everything was meant to be absolutely perfect; I was in charge of the drinks during the buffet dinner, so I had to walk around the tables bringing cocktails and taking empty glasses to the kitchen. Then, during the fireworks, I had to stand by while my colleagues were serving the desserts, ready to help if needed. I took the opportunity given by the preparations to go check the storage basement under the kitchen and found the door that led to the power generator. I wondered if it was a good chance to try out the copy of the key Dan had given me, but I was too scared somebody could see me, so I gave up. Five minutes later, in the garden, I panicked, afraid to have fucked up the entire plan.

  "Are you feeling okay?" asked Stacey, a small, cute, seventeen-year-old brunette I was working with. In her brown eyes there was no shade of malice whatsoever. "You seem a little worn out."

  Great, I thought. I am so nervous that I won't even have to pretend to feel sick.

  "I just have a stomachache. Must be something I ate," I told her, hoping this would come in handy later. "Actually, I need a five minute break. Can you cover for me a little?"

  "Sure, it's not that we’re too busy yet. See you later," she beamed at me. Now I had an official excuse to get away from that place. When the time we had agreed on came, I went to meet Dan on the third floor. I got into the small storage room, and he was already there.

  "Hey," he told me as soon as I got in, "are you faking it or you're about to faint?"

  "Do I look so terrible? I'm not faking it, I'm nervous."

  "Drew, calm down, take a deep breath," he told me, and I did as he said.

  "I saw the door that leads to the generator. Should I try the key?" I asked.

  "What? No, what if some
body sees you?"

  "But what if it doesn’t work?"

  "It’ll work, don't worry. We checked all the time in the past few days, remember? We copied the right key. Don’t let panic get you now. Got it?"

  "Got it," I told him. He seemed calm and controlled like always, and just talking with him made me feel better.

  "Come on, lock the door. We have to get changed," he said, and took a backpack with a change of clothes for him and a wig for me out of the cleaning cart. I put his clothes on, leaving mine in the backpack.

  He got dressed all in black, so that when he had to run away that night, he would be less visible. I was dead worried something might happen to him while hiding in that man's room. "Dan, be safe," I murmured, fondling his face, and in a split second he delved his tongue in my mouth, a mad passion disconnecting my head from my body. Especially from the lower half.

  "I'll be safe, trust me," he whispered in our kiss, just before our lips parted. I swallowed air, my mind running wild. Desire had replaced worry almost entirely; if he had planned that, he was an evil genius.

  “Get in that cart or I’m gonna fuck you right here, right now.” He gave me a smirk and hid in the cleaning cart. So he had planned it.

  "Where will you be hiding?" I asked him when we successfully entered Domme’s room.

  "Walk-in closet."

  "Are you sure he's not gonna find you?"

  "I'll stay in the spare blankets compartment."

  "Do you have a plan B?"

  "Drew, I'll be fine." I had no idea how he could be so sure nothing was going to happen to him; but all I could do was have faith in him and hope for no casualties. I went back to the storage room, got changed and put his clothes and the wig in the backpack, which I stuffed in the burnable trash. I threw it in the incinerator at the back exit of the kitchen and went back to work, according to plan.

  In the early afternoon the guests came in for the check in and to get ready for the opening of the Summer Festival. At different times of the day I saw all the members of the sect arriving, and when the head chief of the police, David Jacques, appeared before me, I craved to kill him on the spot. He, along with Robinson's uncle, was the founder of the second sect. All that had happened was entirely his fault. I was watching him from afar when my eyes met those of the man standing beside him. Well dressed and with a little bit longer hair, I hadn't recognized him at first: the ex-soldier, Joseph Finnick. We studied one another for an instant that lasted way too long, like two wild animals ready to fight in an arena. Then I remembered I was undercover and risking to ruin everything, so I forced myself to politely smile at him, like I would have done with any other client, and looked away.

  "Jack, can I ask you something?" said Stacey. I was happy I had something to distract me from those people.

  "What?"

  "I heard you've worked at the Millennium Star Hotel in the past; how did you pass their interview? I know they're very strict."

  I mentally thanked Dan a thousand times for convincing me to prepare a detailed personal story based on my fake curriculum. "My studies prepared me to work in the hotel rating system, so I knew their standards."

  "Whoa, like?"

  "Like, no introducing yourself. The more luxurious the restaurant is, the less the guests will care about who you are. You're there to serve. And no personal recommendations on the food either; these people know what they want, just give it to them with a smile and shut up." I literally repeated Dan's words. I never had the chance to ask him how he knew all that.

  "Ehhh… I've been doing this part time job for two years and I often introduce myself when I serve at the table."

  "I personally don't mind… but for them it's a no good."

  "I see, I'm learning a lot from you!" said Stacey, and to some extent I felt bad for lying to her all the time. That’s when I realized Finnick had walked our way and had probably heard our conversation. He was so close it seemed he was about to talk to us, but all he did was give us a quick look and leave without turning back. "Are you sure you're alright?" Stacey asked me "You’re making some strange faces today, are you in pain?"

  "Maybe the milk I drank yesterday had expired," I told her, but if she replied anything, I didn't listen. I found myself hoping not to meet Finnick's eyes again during the night. Hate might give me away.

  Around 5 p.m. all the guests left for the opening ceremony of the Festival to be held in the Central Stadium of Rosedeer. In the hotel, the staff seemed to be going crazy; the receptionists were checking all the bookings and waiting for the latecomers, the room staff was going up and down with luggage, bags, dogs, flowers and we –the floor staff– were preparing for the dinner. The kitchen was packed with people coming and going from the garden, bringing food in and out, setting the tables for the buffet, checking if everything was in order: clean enough, shiny enough, stylish enough, if the water of the pool was warm enough –does it make sense if they won't even use it?–, if the lights were of the right intensity, if the microphone was tuned well for the inaugural speech, if the live orchestra was ready, and if they needed anything (something to drink, cold but not iced, something to eat, light but tasty). And did they like the flowers to pin on their clothes? Who cares? I thought. They have to wear them either way, since they’re matching the decorations of the garden.

  I was in charge of serving the drinks, so I had to remember the position on the buffet and the content of each bottle, including the recipes of the cocktails. Also, several guests had communicated to the hotel reception they had food intolerance, and I was expected to remember who they were to serve them the right things. My head was exploding, and I couldn't get the thought of Dan waiting in that hotel room and Finnick looking at me out of my mind. Four hours passed in that state of total confusion, and I wasn't even able to enjoy the nice summer breeze of the garden. Perfectly in time with their schedule, all the guests came back for dinner. We were on standby until the official opening of the buffet, and I couldn't wait for the speech of the President of the City to end. He seemed an intelligent man, with his words and gestures carefully calculated to elegantly play his role as expected. Some people just had talent for that, like Dan for instance. When he finally finished talking, the buffet opened, and for a while I was so busy I was worried I wouldn't even reach Domme to give him the drug.

  As I was walking through the garden serving drinks, a woman came to ask me for a drink. I lifted my head with the usual fake smile I had been posing since that morning, and I saw Sara in an elegant, long, black dress. She was beautiful like I had never seen her before. All the women in the garden were nothing compared to how radiant she was, and some men were staring at her in awe; some others were looking discretely, hoping their ladies wouldn't notice. I felt strangely proud just thinking that I knew her, that I was one step ahead of everybody else, and that she had come there to talk to me and no one else.

  "How can I help you, my lady?" I asked, captured by her gaze.

  "I would like two glasses of champagne," she ordered with a self-confident smile. She had nothing of the shy, sweet girl we left at home. She was a queen.

  "Immediately," I served her in silence, since any word could reveal too much, but her eyes told me everything was going smoothly. She took the glasses and returned to Domme's son, who was waiting for her on the other side of pool. I found Domme senior soon after that. Like we predicted, he was already drunk. He was the one to call me, in a loud voice, asking for red wine; in that moment I was serving the cocktails, so I had the perfect excuse to put down my tray on the closest table to pour him the wine. I took the drug from under the napkin distended on the tray I was bringing around, and put it in the glass; then I waited five seconds for it to dissolve completely and served the wine to Domme. He swallowed it without even tasting the flavor and asked me for a refill. I served him again and went back to my cocktails. Twenty minutes later I was “enlightening” a small group of guests about the best wines to pair with red meat, and I saw Domme on the other side of the p
ark talking with two waiters who were sustaining him and bringing him inside. He was going back to his room. Plan part one, done.

  Chapter 50

  Not being able to understand how things were going on Dan's end, I ended up imagining all the things that could have gone wrong. He was caught as soon as Domme got in the room; he wasn't caught but Domme went somewhere else instead of going back to his room; Domme had woken up while he was working on his watchpad, ruining the plan and putting him in danger. Thinking about it was useless, so I decided to focus on my own duty, for how difficult it could be.

  "Jack!" Stacey called me around midnight, half an hour before the beginning of the fireworks. I was so tired and frustrated that I found her annoying.

  "What's wrong?" I pouted.

  "I talked with the chief. He said you're doing a great job."

  "I see, good to hear that," I patted her head, hoping she would go away soon.

  "He said I can take your place and serve after the fireworks, so you can rest a little," she added with a big smile.

  "Eh?" I couldn't believe it. "You’re joking?"

  "Nope, I told him how you've been feeling sick all day and were holding on," she told me, "so he kept an eye on you and confirmed I was right." She stood on her toes and whispered into my ear, "He said you can run to the toilet whenever you feel like it."

  "Stacey, thanks," I told her, patting her head more energetically this time. I now felt bad for thinking she was annoying; she had just given me the perfect alibi.

  "Jack, my hair, my hair will get everywhere," she complained, making a cute, desperate face.

  "Stacey, bullying you is so much fun."