01*the wrong room
A/N.
State- New York
The cities are fictional.
Main cities for now:
(Flame City - where Italians rule)=Marcelo
(Soul City - where Russians rule)=Nikolas
I’ll add more fictional cities and towns as I expand this universe.)
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Ella Brown
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I silently stared at Mrs. Jones, trying to understand why she hated me. For the months I worked at Red-On Hotel, she has been a pain in the ass, giving me reasons I should have looked for a job in a different hotel after my internship with them.
She stood five feet above the ground wearing her usual attire: a skirt suit. The suits always came in different colors but the same design. She had an inflated ego, the person you would argue with and promptly lose your job.
“Am I communicating here, Ella?” Her shrill voice echoed in the small janitor’s room. It got me nodding.
“Yes … yes ma’am,” I responded with all the respect I could offer to the annoying lady.
“Well, you should be going,” she declared, turning on her black heels to leave the room.
I had finished my shift as a room attendant. The good hour, I could grab my stuff and go, but a client in one of our suites dropped a complaint out of nowhere.
The client felt the need to call for help with whatever the problem was, and I was the only one who could check on them.
Working in the Red-on Hotel wasn’t easy, especially for some of us who had just finished an internship and got employed in the same hotel to do the same job.
The more I worked in the hotel, the more I understood why I should have looked for a job in a different hotel. But working at Red-on Hotel was like killing two birds with one stone. It enhanced my resume.
The hotel was one of the most luxurious in New York, a seven-star hotel.
I used the elevator to reach the 15th floor. Upon arriving, I realized I hadn’t grabbed which suite the client was in. But I remembered it had a four in it—either four or fourteen. And I was already outside suite number four. Knowing I had plans with Wren, I rang the bell without hesitating.
After what felt like forever, if I was not just in a hurry, the beep sound of the door opening caught me. The door opening followed it, and I took a step behind.
A good-looking man in his six feet above the ground stood by the door, making me feel like a dwarf. I always had the words ready on my tongue tip, but Mister Guy got me mute. I stared because who looks that good?
He wore a black-fitting suit, meaning he had arrived and had done nothing. His cinnamon hair looked well-styled, making him appear more decent in all ways. If I was not following the hotel rules: never lustfully stare at hotel clients, I could have gotten lost in his eyes that matched his hair colour.
Never had I met such a hot fucking human being. He sure had an appealing appearance.
I cleared my throat, hating myself for not wearing my uniform so the tall guy could know I was an employee.
Before I explained myself, he spoke first. “I didn’t know you’ll be here soon.” He opened the door wider. “Come in.”
An Italian tourist: it was hard to meet one.
He released the wooden door and walked back in. Knowing he had called for help and was expecting one, I assumed he knew I was there to help, even though I did not have my uniform.
The door was almost closing when I hopped in. After a hesitation, I walked into the magnificent suite, which per night was worthy of my trip to Paris and back.
He was in the sitting area, busy sipping a drink in his glass. I was facing his back as I neared him, but he turned to face me immediately when I stopped at a distance.
He looked manlier, with one hand pocketed and the other directing the glass to his mouth for a sip. He examined me from head to toe, making me forget myself momentarily.
Okay, snap! “Good–”
“So,” He again spoke before I did. “How much are you usually paid?”
My brows flashed upwards at his sudden question. “Sorry?” He stared without clarifying himself because he had asked the wrong question. But he never did. So, I continued. “You needed help?” I got to the point. I couldn’t keep Wren waiting.
“Are you new?” He asked, then took a sip of what looked like water.
I still needed clarification. Although I wasn’t entirely new to the hotel, I was still new as an employee. “Three weeks now.”
“Name?” He was so straightforward and serious, like a no-joke person.
“Ella.” Was the name necessary? “Ella B–” I did not get to say my surname when he interrupted.
“One name is enough.” He cleared his throat. “Back to the question. How much do you get paid per night?”
I exhaled. Okay, I needed an explanation for why he was asking about my payment.
“Okay, sir, I was sent here–”
“I know.” He rested the glass on the slab and then took calculated steps towards me, both hands pocketed in his trouser pockets. “I am asking because I want to adjust the terms.”
“Sorry?”
“Do you have a problem with hearing?” He raised a brow. He sounded a little frustrated, but I was the only person supposed to be frustrated because he couldn’t let me speak.
I sighed. “Okay, why do you need me for?”
“For everything.” He resumed making steps toward me. I did not move, as the hotel’s rules required us to stand still and listen to customers. “I will double the pay for a few rules I want you to follow.”
Okay.
Okay, what was it I was missing? A brain cell?
I always knew how to handle customers, but Mr. Tall Guy made it hard for me to think straight.
As he was skilled at it, he spoke before I could open my mouth to talk.
“I suggest you talk because you are now wasting my time.” He uttered.
“Okay, mister, first, you are not even letting me talk and second, what I get paid is confidential, and thir–”
He sighed. “Two thousand dollars with my terms.” He declared, and he was not even close to making sense.
I frowned, “Sir,”
“Five thousand dollars.” He declared, and I was left breathless.
“What?” I furrowed my brows. “Okay, sir–” I paused when the doorbell rang.
Fuck everyone, including whoever rang that bell.
We stared at each other as if we didn’t hear the bell. He was supposed to get it, but the moron was hesitating until the bell went off again.
In a fit of frustration, he exhaled and walked over to open it. He did not get to speak when a lady pushed her way inside.
“I came as quick as I could,” a balayage-haired lady, clad in a backless thigh-level dress, walked in.
A model.
I almost got lost in how one could be that beautiful and classy, but with her glare, I knew something was to happen.
She did not turn to face the bastard, who was now staring back and forth between the lady and me.
One of them had to break the silence, or I had to do it, except for the part where I didn’t know what to say.
He cleared his throat. Thank God he was good at talking.
“Who are you?” He asked.
I assumed the question would be directed at me, but it was for the lady, as his attention was solely on her. The way she pushed herself in meant they were supposed to know each other, or she was supposed to be there. But the guy looked as lost as I was.
The girl turned to him with her creased brows. “Seriously? Two girls?”
“Who are you?” He repeated, way too cold.
“I don’t do names. What I do is to get informed that I am getting fucked with another lady watching me.” She raised her voice, then sent a glare back at me. “Or is it a threesome?”
The fuck?
Okay, hang in.
Fucking?
Did they want to fuck?
This is where you talk, Ella.
“You–” The guy was about to talk when I talked.
“I’m a room attendant. The supervisor sent me to check on you.” I rushed to explain, causing the guy to cock a brow, anger surging behind his eyes.
I was fucked. He looked at me from head to toe again, and I remembered I did not wear my work uniform.
“I was done with my shift. That’s why I am not wearing a uniform.” I clarified. “So, what is it I should help you with?”
Their eyes crucified me as silence dwelled. I’ll never have peace in Red-on Hotel, that was for sure.
After a moment, the lady scoffed. “Are you kidding me?” She turned to the guy whose gaze remained on me. “Send her out!” She made her step inside.
“Get out.” He seethed with his glare at me. I nodded and then made a step to leave, but he stopped me with his rough voice. “Not you, her!” He pointed at the lady who had made her way inside.
After turning to him, she asked. “What?”
“Are you deaf?!” He glared at her and I was sure like hell my skin left me. He had so much power in his voice that it scared me.
Once the beauty left, the guy erased the space between us. He looked more dangerous, as if he wanted to squeeze me into tiny meatballs. I wasn’t breathing.
“You are in the wrong room, wearing the wrong outfit, knowing the wrong information and, of course, with the wrong person.”
I swallowed. “Sir…” I breathed. “How can I help?”
“The price.” Something told me to run. “Name your price.”
“I’m not what you want me to be.”
“You look like one.”
