I’m leaning over the bar, scanning the room. He’s definitely not here anymore. Didn’t even pay for his drink. That’s coming out of my tips. Great!
I let out a heavy sigh and put the black bottle back on the shelf. I’ve always wondered what kind of wine is in these bottles. It’s thicker and richer than regular red wine, but it smells incredibly dry. Not really my thing. I’m more of a mixed drinks or hard liquor kind of girl.
Stepping down from the stool, I tuck it back under the counter. As I stand up, I spot a £50 note on the counter. I glance around the room, but everyone is deep in conversation. No one is wandering around.
I frown, looking back at the note, wondering what to do. I grab it and stash it under the counter. If someone lost it, they’ll probably come looking for it. If not, it can cover the unpaid drink.
It’s weird, though. I only turned my back for a few seconds. I didn’t see any movement in the mirror either.
Checking my watch, I see it’s just an hour until closing. I turn to Pete. “Same procedure as last year?” I ask, putting on an exaggerated posh accent.
“Same procedure as every year, James,” he replies, his voice equally ridiculous, but light.
I snort, grab a tray, and head to the nearest empty table to start collecting abandoned glasses.
Oriana’s laugh echoes through the room.
“Why is that funny?” I hear one of the men at her table ask.
“Because he is obviously in denial,” she replies, still laughing.
“Denial about what? It’s not a big deal. We bed hu...” His words turn into a deep groan, like he’s suddenly in pain or something.
“Shhaaa ha ha! No matter! Did you see the plans for the tenth?” Oriana says, cutting him off.
I keep moving, collecting glasses, making sure to keep my back to them, even though I’m definitely eavesdropping.
The second man clears his throat. “Yes, it’s looking good. When do the renovations start?” he asks.
“In four weeks, if everything goes as planned,” Oriana replies, taking another sip of her deep red wine.
I already know his hotel is part of a worldwide, very exclusive chain. Compared to other hotel chains, it’s tiny because there are only a handful of them spread across the world.
For some reason, it’s not something that anyone talks about. I only know because I overheard the executives drunkenly blabbering about it in the bar a few months ago. I assume the “tenth” they’re talking about, is the tenth hotel in the chain.
“It will be marvelous. The best one yet!” Oriana says, her melodic voice dancing through the room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her wildly gesturing with her hands as she speaks. The two men at her table are also from the top floor, but I don’t know their names or positions. The shorter of the men, the first one to talk when I first heard them, leans over the table and lowers his voice. He might think he’s being quiet, but he’s drunk, so his voice is still loud enough for me to hear.
“Why did you cut me off earlier?” he asks, annoyance dripping from his tone.
“Because this is not the place nor company to discuss it among,” Oriana whisper-shouts back at him.
I’m done with this section, and to avoid being caught listening, I have to move along, so unfortunately I don’t catch more of the conversation.
I keep glancing toward them though. The drama of rich people is quite entertaining, but the executive drama is definitely my favorite.
These people are so secretive and suspicious. Why don’t any of us ground-level employees even know about the other hotels. Like, what’s the big deal?
I’m cleaning the tables furthest away from the remaining guests when someone clears their throat behind me. I turn around to see Oriana standing there with a suspicious half grin.
“May I help you, ma’am?” I ask, forcing a nervous smile.
“You’re different! More. Aren’t you?” she says, looking me up and down.
“What do you mean?” I ask, slightly confused. Her dark eyes are a little glassy, revealing that she’s had a few.
She laughs and waves her hand. “Like, you’re not just, like, any random human.”
I frown at her choice of words. “I’m still not sure what you’re on about, ma’am,” I say, trying to sound calm.
“I know. But you will at some point,” she says, her lip curling into an amused smirk.
Her face suddenly turns serious as she stares deeply into my eyes. She starts squinting, like she’s searching for something.
My eyebrows knit together in confusion, but I meet her gaze. I start feeling strangely calm and determined, but I don’t understand why.
She suddenly bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Fucking hell, woman, you got some massive balls! I like you already!” she says, biting her lower lip like she’s suppressing a smile.
I just stare at her, dumbfounded.
She looks me up and down a few times.
“Eh, thank you, ma’am,” I say, stumped.
“You’ll be fine. Vale, Soror!” she says as she turns and walks away.
I watch her walk back to her colleagues, swaying slightly. They all walk out of the room together.
She’s probably way more drunk than she seems. There’s no other explanation for the weird stuff she said.
After I finish cleaning, I go over my cash settlement. “Pete, did anyone pay you for a drink I made or put one on the company tab?”
He turns to look at me. “Nope! I’ve just gone over the tab, and it’s all in order,” he replies.
“Oh, good,” I reply, nibbling on my lip.
That fifty-dollar bill must be for the Sazerac, even though the drink only costs fifteen. Or maybe it's a generous tip from someone. Either way, it'll cover the cost of the drink, and it all adds up.
Once everything's wrapped up for the night, I head to the locker room to grab my bag. I stop in my tracks when I catch my reflection in the mirror.
My gaze drops to the spots where I’d felt the heat almost a week ago. My heart does a little flip, and a wave of sadness washes over me. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath: in through my nose, out through my mouth.
It doesn’t help. The feeling still lingers. I pick up my bag and push open the heavy back door that leads to the alley.
The dim light by the door is out, and the alley is pitch black. Like, unnaturally black.
The door slams shut behind me, making me jump. My heart starts pounding in my chest as I squint into the darkness, trying to make out anything around me. I reach for the door behind me, but all I can feel is the cold, hard concrete wall.
It shouldn’t be this dark. It’s not natural. I should still be able to see the lights from the main street.
My nostrils flare, and I grit my teeth as I stretch my arms out in front of me, trying to find my way out of the alley. A bead of sweat trickles down from my temple. I’m on high alert, straining my ears to pick up any sound, but all I can hear is my own shaky, labored breathing.
I’m waving my arms in front of me when I finally feel the brick wall. This must be the building next to the hotel. I trace my fingers along the rough surface and walk along it, hoping that I’ll eventually reach a corner and find someone who can help.
“Oomph!” I gasp as something crashes into me, slamming my entire body against the wall.
Something ice-cold is clutching my neck, pinning me in place. The rough bricks scrape against the side of my face, piercing my skin. I feel blood trickling down my cheek and dripping onto my chest. I try to scream for help, but no sound comes out.
The cold spreads down my spine and up the back of my head, seeping through my skin and deep into my muscles. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. My knees buckle as it engulfs my whole body.
Then everything fades to black as I pass out.
