ELIJAH {18+}

Natalie

Luck. Something that some people had, and others didn’t.

I was one of the ones who didn’t.

Not that I was whining about everything being unfair or complaining that life was being mean to me. Just stating a fact about the very real way my life has been so far.

And why it had turned me into a jaded, bitter version of what I could have been.

It was also why I was walking into the gorgeous five-star hotel in downtown Manhattan and not going straight for the front desk.

Instead, I was walking over the polished marble floors, ignoring the glare from my manager and heading down to the basement- where the laundry room was.

I had been working in the Rexton Hotel for the last few months and hated every second of it.

My boss- the glaring concierge and manager- was an asshole.

Maybe that was the bitterness coming out in me but I stood by my assessment. He had tried to ask me for drinks, ask me to dinner, ask me to fuck, receiving a resounding fuck off every time. Which had turned him into a mean little man with nothing better to do than glare with his beady eyes, and lift his head to stare down his crooked nose at me.

I didn’t care that he gave me the worst guest rooms to clean or the worst shifts. What got to me the most was the way he docked my pay for stupid things.

I used too much product- that was coming out of my pay.

I took too long to clean a room- I wasn’t getting paid for that.

I spilled something on my uniform- I was paying for that too.

I needed that pay. I could barely afford the rent on my studio apartment as it was.

I huffed and went to the staff room, pulling out my apron from my locker. I tied it around my waist and shoved my bag back into the locker.

“Girl, you are pushing your luck. A minute later Lorenzo would have docked you for the hour,” Carrie said, leaning against the lockers already dressed and her cleaning cart prepared. She also had a car. She had her dark hair in a tight bun, and her ability to hide the strays still made me jealous.

I yanked my hands through my own ashy blonde hair that was shoulder length and not as tame as Carrie’s.

I pulled it into a ponytail, defiant waves falling straight back out. Great.

“My bus was late,” I said, knowing Lorenzo would have not cared about that excuse.

Which is exactly why I had run the last four blocks when the traffic had come to a standstill.

I was a good runner in high school and that had been about the only skill I had used since then.

I pulled off my sneakers which had splatters of water and mud from the dirty Manhattan streets that had been drenched last night. I shoved them into my locker too and grabbed my clean black canvas work shoes from Carrie who held them out.

“Thanks,” I said, rushing to get put together before Lorenzo came down.

I clipped my name tag on last, grimacing at the name.

“Damn, he still hasn’t ordered you a name tag with the right name?” Carrie said, bringing my cart over and starting to prep it for me.

She was a godsend.

I shook my head, screwing my face up at the name he thought it was funny for me to have to wear.

Gertrude.

I was not a Gertrude.

“Natalie!” Lorenzo's booming, Italian-accented voice shouted from the doorway.

I clenched my jaw and straightened my spine, turning to him with a tight smile.

“Lorenzo.”

“You are late,” he shook his head, pointedly pointing things on the tablet he carried everywhere. I think it gave him the validation of self-importance he craved.

“I was almost late,” I corrected.

He scowled and checked his watch then eyed my uniform. It wasn’t ironed but it was clean. I didn’t own an iron.

It fit me snugly, tighter than the other cleaning staff which I was sure was intentional. It was black and meant to be knee length but thanks to my height and the size of the dress, it came to mid-thigh.

It was all black with buttons down the front and the gold emblem of Rexton Hotel on the breast pocket.

“I have a special request for you this morning,” Lorenzo carried on after his thorough assessment of my uniform.

He always had a special request.

I started sorting more of my cart, mouthing a thank you to Carrie who nodded and scurried off.

She did not like confrontation or Lorenzo. So she avoided both by leaving whatever room he was in.

The people pleaser in her couldn’t handle the tension. I wish I had been given those personality traits instead of my winning sarcasm and sharp tongue.

But I wasn’t that lucky.

“Let me guess, some guests had a party last night and the room is trashed so I have to clean it up in a ridiculously short time frame?” I taunted.

Lorenzo scowled at me for a second before his face stretched into a dangerous smirk.

“Actually, I’m giving you the presidential. It needs a daily clean done,” he said but I didn’t like the smug tone.

Cleaners loved getting the presidential suite. It usually meant a decent tip. Which made me think this was a setup.

I paused my cart organizing.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

He shrugged, “They didn’t like the cleaner yesterday. Today, she doesn’t have a job. It seems our latest guests are relatively picky. The woman in particular.”

Lorenzo grinned and I shook my head.

Great. Just what I needed.

He had been looking for a way to get me fired since I had rejected him.

Which is why I was going to make sure I did better than ever and gave the guests no reason to complain.

Determined, I went back to my cart, making sure I had plenty of the complementaries, the best linen, the softest towels.

Lorenzo snickered, “Good luck, Gertrude.” He turned on his feet and then left.

His suit probably cost more than my rent and it made me want to ‘accidentally’ spill something on it.

But I wasn’t that petty. Instead, I would prove him wrong.

Confident in my ability to do a good job, I got in the elevator and took the cart to the top floor- the presidential suite.

I was let in when I got there so that was a good sign.

“Hello? Cleaning services.” I called out, tucking my stray wave behind my ear, hoping it looked tidier.

Normally I would be able to greet guests by name but Lorenzo had neglected this information so I looked over the small entrance lobby for anything that gave it away.

I heard voices coming from the sitting area so I walked forward.

“I am not breaking up with him, Matthew! I have come too far to let him get away!” A tall, thin woman in stilettos and an expensive-looking white pantsuit said in a hushed, forceful tone.

I raised a brow at her as she pointed a long manicured nail at the man opposite her.

He was as tall as her, dressed in a tailored suit with an earpiece in.

“That’s my baby, Madison-”

I cleared my throat before I could hear any more rich people drama.

“Excuse me, cleaning services,” I said, smiling sweetly like I had heard nothing.

Madison scowled at me. I recognized her from the tabloids. Madison Montgomery.

Model, fashion icon, boss woman. Beautiful as anything with her features and body upholding the very highest of society's standards.

She narrowed her eyes on me.

“Do what you need to do,” she snapped waving a hand at me before turning her scowl on Matthew, “You are dismissed.”

Matthew ran a hand through his dark hair that was slicked back then huffed and stormed from the room, brushing past me to stand at the elevator like he was guarding it.

OH.

So that’s why I had gotten straight in. The security was sidetracked. By the woman he was clearly having an affair with.

I went back to my cart and started doing my job with perfection. I replaced all the towels, put new products in the bathroom then started on the bedrooms.

I went to the primary first which was where Madison had gone.

She was on the phone but waved me in, pointing to the bed. She covered the mouthpiece and looked at me, “This linen better be comfier than whatever that hag put on there yesterday. If I wanted to stay in something cheap I would have gone to Brooklyn,” she snarled then went back to her call.

I kept my face controlled.

That hag had been a lovely woman with story after story about her life. She had seven children. Eighteen grandchildren. And four cats who apparently all had personalities.

She didn’t deserve to be fired over sheets she had no say in but in the world of Upper East Side Manhattan, only what the rich wanted, mattered.

I stripped Madison’s bedding, rolling the linen up and taking them to the laundry hamper on my cart.

I went back to the room with the fresh linen as Madison continued her phone call, standing at the window that looked out over Manhattan. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“Mother, this won’t affect a damn thing. He is close to proposing I can feel it,” she said.

I fluffed out the pillows.

“I have pulled out all the tricks. I have him, Mother. And once I tell him about the baby, he will propose. I am sure of it.”

I hid my smirk. Rich people had rich gossip and apparently, scandalous affairs.

Normally I had to wait to read about it in the articles as I scrolled Facebook when I was hiding from Lorenzo somewhere.

“I don’t care if it is not his! It will be as far as he will know. And he may be a cold man but he is honorable. He will do the right thing by me.”

She scoffed at whatever her mother said and I started putting linen back on the bed, taking my time.

I told myself it was so I could get it perfect but really it was because I wanted to know more of the gossip.

It gave my day just a little bit of thrill even if it wasn’t mine.

“Elijah Rexton will be putty in my hands by the time I am done with him. Yes, I’ll tell him tonight when we go to dinner,” Madison grinned, turning to eye the bed before waltzing from the room.

I was frozen.

Rexton.

She was dating the Elijah Rexton.

The man who owned the hotel I worked in. The man who was splashed over tabloids every other day. The man who was considered a cutthroat, ruthless businessman with a heart of stone.

He was also the sexiest man in the tabloids. He was tall, and muscular with a broad build that tapered at the waist. His jawline was incredibly well-shaped and covered in tame stubble. His hair was dark, and his eyes were electric blue with a dark outline. And his lashes were thick and dark, brushing against his dark, golden skin.

Not that I had met him or even seen him before.

I had just drooled over articles about him like any person with a libido.

He was a damn fine specimen who had avoided getting whacked with the ugly stick by a landslide.

Lucky fucking rich people.

Or maybe not so much.

It sounded like Mr. Rexton was about to get duped into being a baby daddy for a lying model.

But it wasn’t my business.

So I finished cleaning the best I had ever cleaned then found Madison to let her know I was done for the day.

“Ms. Montgomery-”

She looked up from her phone where she was trying to take a selfie.

“I need you to go pick up my dry cleaning,” she said abruptly.

I raised a brow at her as she tried to hand me the ticket.

Hmm. There were two options. Do it without complaining and get in a whole shitload of trouble with Lorenzo for neglecting my other rooms to clean. Or I could say no because it wasn’t my job and finish my cleaning tasks.

I wish I could tell Lorenzo where to stick it and forget the other rooms he had tasked me with but I needed to keep my job which meant I had to complete my tasks. And we did have people to run errands for our preferred clients.

“Uh, sorry, Ms. Montgomery, I can’t as I do have other rooms to attend but we have a concierge at the front desk who can assign someone to assist you during your stay,” I offered.

She looked like I had just put something foul under her nose.

“You work here don’t you?” She snapped.

“I am just the cleaner, Ma’am. Those tasks are for the front desk,” I tried again.

My tone was tired no matter how much I tried to change it. I knew where this was going and I knew my luck meter was running at an all-time low.

“Insolent thing, aren’t you? I have given you a task, either you complete it or I will be having words with your supervisor.”

I gave her a sweet smile, “My supervisor is the one who assigns my tasks. If you want to give him a call and tell him to assign me your tasks, I will gladly complete them,” I said then turned and went to the elevator.

The man named Matthew pressed the button for me and I wheeled my cart in.

The last thing I saw before the heavy gold doors closed was Madison scowling, angrily dialing on her phone.

I mentally kissed my job goodbye.