Aim to kill (John Wick X !Female Reader!)

13. Impossible Job

I woke up in the morning to sunlight streaming through my window. The warm glow on my face softly woke me. I felt refreshed for the first time in, well I have no clue since I don't usually get that much sleep. I roll out of bed, but something seems off like I am missing something. I turn back to my bed and look at it for a second. I study the sheets, the covers, the pillows, all the same ones from before I went on this last mission, so what was it that was missing? Then it hit me, like a 5-ton cement semi truck, I was missing John. I had gotten so used to waking up next to him on our few days on our mission together, that my body missed waking up with him now. I did not like the feeling of that. I grappled with my mind for a couple of minutes, trying to take control of my thoughts, I did not need those interfering with my day-to-day life. Luckily though, I wouldn't have to see John anymore, since he was off to only God knows where, doing God knows what for D'Antonio.
 I rolled out of the bed, looking over at my elegant bedside table with gold trim on it. It had a generic digital clock on it, 11:23 A.M, holy shit, it was almost lunch time. I was hoping for some much needed down time, but that is not expected, Winston will probably need me for a new mission sooner or later today. I threw on some clothes, a pair of nice of simple black jeans, and a maroon shirt, basic, yes but still badass enough to keep my reputation up. I put on a pair of high top black Converse,  to match the vibe of the outfit. I decided against keeping a knife in the ankle of my shoe, since the hotel is safe, and it is really fucking clique. I strode out of the room, double checking the lock on my way out the door, and walked down to the elevator. 
The elevator I called arrived with one of the new bellhops that I hadn't quite gotten to know yet. We rode the elevator down to the main entrance floor, where a seating area and small scale bar are located. My favorite workers are always working there, so I might as well go and visit them. Before I could make it over to the bar however, I was stopped by Charon who told me Winston was lookin for me. I let out a sigh, never a fucking day off with this man, but it is to be expected. I turned right back to where I had just left, requesting to be sent up to Winston's floor. The bellhop obliged, looking at me quizzically. She is in her early 20s I would say, with close cropped hair brown hair and fierce eyes. I swear I had seen her somewhere before, but could quite place where. We rode up to Winston's floor in silence, neither of us saying a word, it is to be expected, when workers are first hired, they are taught to only speak when spoken to, but they usually lose that training when I come along.
We make it up to the floor in less than a minute, and the fierce sense of Deja Vu since I was just here last night. As I exited the elevator I noticed that the bellhop was looking around in a way that seemed like she was studying the floor, her eyes darting around quickly, I could almost hear the scribbling of a mental notepad and pen in her brain taking note of every window and door. I quickly stepped in front of her field of vision, making it obvious that I had noticed what she was doing. I cleared my throat loudly, signaling for her to go. She nodded her head slowly, and backed into the elevator, never once turning her back to me, keeping her feet a shoulder width apart, and one arm seemingly guarding her chest area. She was clearly a trained fighter, almost but not quite as meticulously guarded as our other workers. The more I watched her, the more suspicious I became. I would have to ask Winston about her. After ensuring that her elevator had indeed gone down, I turn and started walking down the familiar carpeted hallway. I made my way to his office doors, and heard talking from inside, none of it was understandable, all I could hear was mumbling, but I could decern that it was a single man that Winston was talking to. I waited a a few seconds before I knocked. There were gruff and hurried good-byes and the voices cut off. So it was a phone call, interesting, not uncommon, but not the typical way Winston communicated, he liked to talk face-to-face, 'like real men' Winston put it. The door opened, and there was Winston in all his usual grandeur and power.  "Come in Y/N", Winston said stepping aside. I strode inside and stood to the side as he made his was back to his desk and took a seat, motioning for me to do the same. I sat down across from him and looked into his eyes. They always say that the eyes are a mirror of the soul, and sometimes I wonder if that is true, but looking into Winston's eyes right now, I doubt it. There is only darkness, nothing lively, in his eyes now, like the fatherly Winston I know and love. He clears his throat, and I know it is time for business to be conducted. It is no longer father and daughter, it is employer and employee. Winston opens his mouth and tells me my next assignment. All the professional composure seemed to ascend out of my skin and leave me body at that exact time.