Room with a View

Chapter 9 - Beginning Cracks

Glenda unlocked the door and stepped inside. "What is this about, please?" She dropped her bag on the bed and turned to face the man.

Hector left the door ajar and took in her taught, tanned figure, barely concealing anything from his roaring imagination. "Senorita, this is not a pleasant duty but as a member of the resort it is my responsibility to our guests to see that an acceptable level of behaviour is maintained. As you can appreciate we are also a family oriented facility."

"Will you just get to the point." Glenda jammed a hand onto her hip and shook her hair.

"Senorita Weiss, your uh- uhh- Senor Ordman is uhm- he's entertaining the real estate lady in his room."

Glenda stared at the man without speaking. Her mind was racing through the data but not comprehending its meaning. Why would this guy be taking the trouble to tell her? The bullshit line about resort behaviour was thinner than Varsol. Why is he telling me this? She leaned forward. "What?"

"This would never ordinarily be mentioned but as you are both investors in the resort properties, it is necessary to see that—"

"He's doing WHAT?" It didn't surprise her one bit that Gary would do something like that; she'd deal with him later. But what the hell was this guy up to?

Hector moved closer, extending his arms in a sympathetic gesture. "I hate myself, senorita, for having to bring you this news but . . ." She stepped back defensively, glaring at him. "Are you alright, senorita? Should I get some water or something?" He backed away so as not to frighten her and crushed his cigarillo in the dresser ashtray. When he saw her body relax he moved a little closer again. "This is terrible news, I know but it is my duty to the resort and, I believe, to you."

"That bastard!" She sank onto the bed and crossed her legs.

Hector took her expletive as a sign she might be open to his comfort and when he tentatively placed his fingers on her bare shoulder, she looked up, her eyes steely.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Senorita?"

"You bring me this rotten news and now what?"

Hector removed his hand and frowned. He wasn't quite sure what she meant and he didn't want to spark any trouble with his superior. "Nothing, senorita. I mean, I do nothing . . . unless . . .?"

"Unless I ask you to go and beat the living shit out of him?"

"Madre Dios! No senorita. I could never—"

"Don't' worry," she waved a hand as she stood. "I can do that myself." Hector gave her a cautious look; this was not the crumbling, vulnerable woman he'd expected, mentioning the arrangement he'd heard discussed didn't seem like a good idea anymore. Her voice hardened along with a tough smile. "I appreciate your concern, Hector and I would like to show that appreciation by writing a brief note to the resort manager about your concerns and the delicacy with which you executed your duty."

He held up his palms and tried to calm her intentions. "That will not be necessary, senorita. It would just alarm and alert more people than necessary to your uhm, predicament." A note to Carlos would be disastrous!

Glenda looked thoughtful." Do I have a predicament, Hector?" She stood from the bed and walked slowly toward him and stopped, her face inches from his. "You really thought you could pull this off didn't you?"

"Senorita?" He began sweating.

"Bad news followed by the comforting arms and understanding manner. You probably pictured me being so grateful I'd fall right into bed with you, right? You try this with every new group of arrivals? Ever get lucky, Hector? What made you think it would matter to me?"