Room Service

by Summer Cooper

  My sister…

  Emily.

  My frown deepened. What could she possibly want from me?

  “She’s my half-sister,” I grumbled to myself.

  My PA shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking at me with partially concealed anxiety.

  I rarely ever took personal calls in the office. I’d chosen Jennifer in particular to be my assistant, because she knew little of my background, and didn’t look into it as long as it didn’t help her do her job. She knew I had at least one brother, but that was it.

  Seriously, though, what could Emily possible want?

  “Just let her know I’m too busy,” I said dismissively, waving at Jennifer. “Unless the calls have stopped coming?” I added, arching an eyebrow.

  She winced. “Uh, no, actually, sir. There was a call that came in before hers; I promised you’d call back after you were done with your recent call. I just wanted to see if you’d be talking to your sister or not…”

  “Tell her what I just told you,” I said, already looking away.

  Whatever Emily had to say to me, it could certainly wait until office hours were over. She and I weren’t particularly close, and I couldn’t remember the last time she even called me. It probably wouldn’t be anything important.

  But Jennifer wasn’t leaving to go patch through my next call, and I looked back up at her with a frown. She had her hands clasped in front of her, though her fingers kept twisting, and she shifted slightly from one foot to the other some more. I wondered if the heels she was wearing were starting to feel uncomfortable on her feet.

  “Is there something else I can help you with?”

  “It’s just that,” she started slowly. “I’m sorry sir, but she said it had something to do with your dad.”

  My frown deepened even further. What could Dad possibly want from me? Even knowing it was about him, I still felt reluctant.

  Right here was where I’d built my world. I’d all but thrown my past away because it was exactly what led me to where I was, in my new life in Asheville, North Carolina, where I could get away from it all. The place was perfect; no family in sight and I found my peace in the mountains I loved to hike. Where none of my dysfunctional family could butt in.

  I still saw Dad on occasion because he’d gripe at me until I either met up with him or he’d show up at my office. The latter was something I didn’t want to happen, so I usually gave into his demands. Come to think of it; it had been a while since I’d received as much as a call from him.

  I’d been happy that he was finally leaving me alone.

  Dad and I just didn’t get along, no matter what the old man felt. He thought I was busy, but really I made whatever excuse kept me from going home. I hadn't been back for years, not since I left there for college.

  I’d always wanted to leave after my mother died. She had pretty much been my world growing up because dad was always busy. Losing her had been a big blow, and what was worse was how quickly Dad found a woman to replace her. I was against him remarrying and he’d done it anyway. He gave all his affection to his new wife and the family she gave him, and I moved myself to the side, distancing myself before they had the chance to push me out.

  My brothers were the only ones in the family I talked to with any regularity, and even then, they rarely wanted to talk to me because I’d made it clear I wanted out of the family’s clutches.

  Now, here was my sister, calling me over something to do with my father. It was just strange enough to have me curious.

  I refocused on my PA who was still squirming in front of me and sighed as I waved a hand at her.

  “Patch her through.”

  She looked visibly relieved as she left my office. A moment later, the phone at my desk rang. I took a deep breath to steel myself, before picking up the call.

  “Hello?” I said, my voice coming out the same as if I was taking a formal business call, the pitch just right to make a man think competence and a woman think of sins.

  “Trent?” came the light voice. “It’s me, Emily.”

  “What can I do for you, Emily?” I tapped a rapid beat on my desk with my fingers as I worked to keep my impatience out of my voice. She’d barely spoken, and already I wanted to cut the call.

  “Sorry for calling you up at work,” she said. You don’t sound very apologetic to me, Emily, I thought to myself as she hesitated. “But I’m afraid it’s something important. It’s Dad.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not everything to do with Dad has to be important, so you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that. I am in the middle of my working day, and you’re holding me up right now.”

  There was a short silence. When her voice came again, it was just a tad colder. Not too much though. I’d never heard Emily ever sound cold or angry, even as spoiled as she must have been, growing up the only daughter for Dad to dote on.

  “You’ll want to come back home for this, Trent. I know you can't be bothered with the rest of us but don’t you at least care what’s happened to him? Just come back home, Trent,” she finished with a lilt of pleading at the end.

  Why the fuck should I? I wanted to growl down the line. After everything I’d done to distance myself from my family, to act like I wasn’t one of them… I was finally free of them. And now what? Just because she said so, I had to head back to Charlotte, the place I’d left all those years ago without a single glance back? Back to a life I’d wished for so long that I could leave behind, a name I’d wanted to leave behind.

  It wasn’t that I hated my father. If something were really up with the old man, it would worry me. The first few years when it was just me, Mom and Dad had been wonderful and the best years of my life. I did, however, resent all of Dad’s choices ever since Mom passed away, and the demands he’d made on my life as if he had the right to just because he’d fathered me.

  My life was mine to live how I wanted. I wasn’t ready to give that up, even for my father.

  “Trent?” Emily said, her voice questioning.

  I was brought out of my revelry, and I realized I must have been silent for too long. I couldn’t help myself. I was in control of everything else in my life, but this was something I couldn’t do anything to change. When it came to my complicated family, it was so easy to forget myself.

  “Yes?” I murmured to let her know I was still listening.

  “Can't you come back?” she asked simply, but the question was far more complicated than any of them truly realized.

  I kept my silence. If this was another of Dad’s schemes to try and drag me back there… he was going to be so fucking disappointed.

  “Dad had a heart attack,” she said, at last, a note in her voice I’d never heard before. Was it desperation? Grief?

  The words were dropped so suddenly, so quietly, that it took me a minute for the words to sink in. When they did, I felt my gut clench uncomfortably.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I said, my voice tight, hoping I’d just misheard. “Dad had a what?”

  “A heart attack,” she repeated, her voice clear. “For this much, do you think you can finally come home? I know he’d want to see you, Trent.”

  When… how?

  Those were the primary thoughts running through my brain. I wanted to say it was impossible, but when was the last time I’d talked to Dad? He’d been fine then, but I was pretty sure it was more than a year ago. It was a hard pill to swallow that a strong, proud man like my father could have had a heart attack. He worked himself hard but he’d always kept fit and healthy!

  At least… as far as I’d seen, which I had to admit, wasn’t much lately.

  Well, fuck.

  “Give me a day,” I said to Emily, my voice a bit abrupt, but I didn’t care.

  Immediately, I cut the line, because I didn’t want to hear whatever else she had to say. As much as I hadn't wanted to go back, I knew…

  It’s time.

  2

  Jessi

  I hummed to myself as I moved
through my space. The kitchen in the Charlotte branch of the Thompson Hotel chain was quite spacious, but with so many people working in it, it could feel pretty crowded at times.

  It was a working environment I’d had to grow used to, but it was one I enjoyed thoroughly.

  As usual, I had my phone in one of my pockets, my earbuds in, cords under my work clothes, and I was making another of my specialties.

  Working as a pastry chef wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Working as a pastry chef at one of the best-known hotels in the country was even harder. It was pretty demanding, and there was no room for mistakes. But I’d proven myself when I was hired, and I’d become one of the top pastry chefs in the Thompson Hotels.

  I was just finishing the layout for one of my cakes. Everyone else went about their own business at their own workstations, and no one bothered me as I worked.

  Well, no one but my mother anyway.

  The call was unexpected enough to startle me, and I glanced around to make sure no one had noticed. The calm music I was listening to was suddenly the loud song I’d set as my ringtone. I checked my phone, and sure enough, her name was right there.

  She was the only person that still called me during work hours. But she was my mom, so I could hardly tell her to stop calling me, no matter how distracting it got. I hurried through the parts that couldn’t wait, before picking up the call just before it was dropped.

  “What can I help you with, Mom?” I asked, not leaving out the exasperation from my voice.

  “Did I distract you from work again?” It was always her first sentence when I’d answer a call.

  I wanted to roll my eyes, but if I did it every time my mom asked the same question, my eyes would ache in their sockets.

  “It’s fine, Mom. What did you call me for?”

  I glanced at the work I’d done so far, mentally going through what I would need to do to have a perfect standing cake in front of me. After that came the slicing, then the decorating.

  “Honey,” Mom said, voice turning conspiratorial, catching my attention. “You’ll never believe what happened. It’s just horrible! Mr. Thompson had a heart attack!”

  I gasped, my mind now fully on my mom’s news. It was huge. It had been a while since I’d seen Mr. Thompson in person but it was hard to imagine he’d had a heart attack. He’d always seemed larger than life, even when I got to see a side of him most wouldn’t see.

  “When did it happen?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed.

  The last thing I needed was someone getting curious about what I was talking about. None of my coworkers knew the background I had with the Thompsons, and I didn’t want to make waves where I worked.

  “I’m not sure, but it couldn’t have been that long ago. All the sons are finally coming home to see their father’s condition. If we want more information, it would have to come after that.”

  Wait… what? The Thompson sons were all coming back to Charlotte?

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but what did you say?” I asked slowly, wishing she would say something other than what she’d said.

  “Mr. Thompson's sons are all coming back home,” she repeated carelessly, not aware of how each word dug into my heart like an ice pick. “Isn’t that wonderful, honey? I was starting to get worried about that man left in that big house with just his daughter to look after him.”

  No, Mom. It’s not wonderful. It’s the exact opposite.

  I thought the words but didn’t dare say them out to my mother in case she asked me why. Because that was something I couldn’t tell her. There was little of my life that I hadn't told my mom about, but this was one thing I’d thought best to keep to myself. I wanted the moment to have never happened, and I’d tried to live acting as if it hadn't.

  And what did she mean about Mr. Thompson being lonely? It was a big house, sure, but it was full of servants that saw to the man’s every need.

  My parents had been in that position all of my life, servants to one of the richest men in the world.

  “Um, look, Mom. I need to be getting back to work, alright? I don’t want anything to burn. I’ll talk to you when I get off?”

  She sighed. “Fine, honey. I’ll be waiting!”

  I hung up, thinking hard about how I didn’t want to have to call her back so that she could tell me the last thing I wanted to hear all over again.

  Why did they have to come back?

  Not that I particularly had a thing against them all. It was just one of them that I had a problem with.

  Growing up, I’d been in the Thompsons’ shadow. Both of my parents had worked for the family pretty much since before I was born. My mom, Joan, worked as a housekeeper while my dad, Ted, worked as the family butler. Through them, there were some occasions where I’d get to see Mr. Thompson, though those times were few. More recently, I’d met him after I started working at this hotel.

  But even though I’d grown up in their shadow, I was growing out of it. I wasn’t just a child of the house help; I was making a name for myself with my work, my creations.

  The father had been good to my parents. He wasn’t like what most TV shows made rich, successful businessmen out to be. He was pretty respectful of his staff, and he’d never said a bad word to either of my parents as far as I knew. In fact, they sang his praises.

  It was Trent Thompson, the oldest son of the house, who I had a problem with. My chest was filled with dread at just the thought of him stepping back into the city, and I hadn't seen him yet.

  What was I going to do?

  Memories started to resurface, memories of my childhood. Memories of the crush I’d always had on Trent. They were sweet in the beginning, all young and full of curiosity. He was already quite a character back then, but my crush had only persisted, until one day he’d figured it out.

  He’d laughed. I was still traumatized by that. When you’re a young girl, even when you’re shy and nervous with a boy you like, you don’t picture them laughing at your feelings like they meant nothing, but that was exactly what Trent had done to me.

  Afterward, he’d even gone to talk to his father because of it. He didn’t just talk bad about me though. No. He’d tried to talk his father into letting my parents go, firing them as a punishment for me. I figured he must have thought the only reason I was after him was because of the family money.

  Back then, more than because he’d laughed, that he thought that money was the extent of my interest in him had hurt me immensely. Being laughed at was humiliating, but not as painful as my love for him being dismissed as a love for his money.

  It stuck with him. When I struck up a friendship with his half-sister Emily, he’d shown how much he resented it, like in his mind I was getting near her because I’d missed my chance with the first born and heir, so I was endearing myself to the sole daughter of the family who pretty much got whatever she wanted if it wasn’t too outrageous. Although, “outrageous” meant different things to the rich than it would to everybody else.

  Things between Emily and me were hardly like that, though. Emily loved food, a love that I shared. It had been enough to get me through culinary school. When I’d come back as a chef, Emily couldn’t have been more delighted, and it had remained our bond.

  Back when I still lived in the mansion, before I’d left for college, Emily would sneak into the staff quarters. She’d always been a curious, happy child, and everyone loved her so no one ever gave away her secret even after she was caught. It was how she and I had officially met for the first time. I taught the young, rich girl who had everything handed to her with a word or the snap of her father’s fingers how to cook in the small kitchen in my parent’s shared quarters at the mansion. After that, she’d sneak downstairs and we’d play chef. I told her one day that I would become a real chef.

  I’d kept that promise, and Emily and I were still as close as ever. Even though I didn’t get to see her much because work was so demanding. But on the days I had the time, she’d show up in the hotel kitchens, and we’d ma
ke something, pretend it was like old times.

  “Jessi!”

  I jumped with an aborted yelp, eyes widening as my mouth fell open, and I turned to the person who’d just shouted my name and nearly stopped my heart from beating, cutting off my trip down memory lane in the process.

  “Laura!” I said her name chidingly. “You didn’t have to scare me like that!”

  She just rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry, but you’ve just been standing there staring off into space for a while, you know? Someone already did the work for the cakes.”

  I looked over to where I’d left my work and frowned to realize the space had been cleared already. Yeah, I wasn’t the only pastry chef there, but usually people didn’t just come and hijack my work. I needed it, dammit! I needed to have something there to keep me busy, to stop me from thinking, and to help me put off talking to my mom for as long as possible.

  My eyes narrowed at Laura. She was a colleague of mine, though she didn’t work in the same area I did.

  “What did you even call me for?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that we’re pretty much done for the day. There are other people that will be dealing with setting the food up for clients. The pastry chefs can go home.”

  What? No!

  I didn’t yell out like I wanted to, but it was a close call.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything else for me to do?” I asked, and I was sure I sounded a little desperate, but I didn’t care. “I could start up on the menu for tomorrow, at least make some dough and put it in the fridge so I won’t have to start from scratch tomorrow…”

  “You already did that,” she said impatiently, frowning. “Don’t you remember?”

  Ah. “I’d just forgotten,” I said sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

  Laura rolled her eyes, but there was a trace of worry around them even as she frowned at me.

  “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” she asked.

  I bit down on my lip, indecisive. On the one hand, having someone to vent to would be wonderful. I’d done it back when I was a student and things got hard, and it had helped. On the other hand, this was something so private I worried about just blurting it out. Laura and I were friends as well as colleagues but she didn’t know everything there was to know about me. There might be the relief of someone else knowing, but…