The Grand Tranquility Hotel | Alex Turner

Chapter II - She Looks Like Fun

She'd picked out a darker dress with a wavy skirt. Something comfortable, yet still classy. She could almost imagine her mother squealing with joy, because up until a few months ago she would've never worn anything like this.

Her mother used to reprimand her for it, because she'd always said that her legs were far too nice to be covered up by trousers or any of the sort. And if she was being honest, her legs did look rather nice. She'd actually shaved, while it was still the cold season. A season where shaving legs was not necessary. She felt a sense of pride. It quickly simmered down.

She hated the fact she couldn't tell her mother these things anymore. She supposed that wearing skirts and dresses was her own way of dealing with things. Trying to rid of the guilt of having been gone for so long to find work in all sorts of places. Not calling enough. Skipping holidays and family meetings. She was grieving, and though there was probably some psychological explanation for everything she was doing, she really didn't care enough to find out.

She was still adorned with her grandmother's watch, possibly the most valuable family heirloom in her possession. Perhaps not so much in price, because the gold needed a good polish and there were enough scratches and dents to tell a tale of a lifetime or two, but it sure meant a lot to her emotionally. It was the only thing she had left of her mother. And any time she felt a wave of anxiety or couldn't catch a night's sleep, she listened to the soft ticking of the seconds hand. It reminded her of where she was, what she was doing, and that everything would be fine. As she now didn't feel the anxiety anymore of dining all by herself. Because in a way, her mother was with her.

While exiting the room, she didn't stop to think about the sinister half-opened door at the end of the hallway and quickly made her way downstairs. It was a bit before seven o'clock.

The dining room was really something else. It was a grand open space adorned with golden chandeliers and tables with pristine white napkins on shining plates. It was a symmetrically satisfying sight to behold, and she felt out of place to take a seat on any of the luxurious furniture. She wondered if they were actually expecting a grand feast soon or simply out of their minds. She presumed it was the latter.

When Nick thought enough time had passed for her to take in the spectacular view, he cleared his throat. It made her jump and though it amused him greatly, he quickly apologized. "I'm very sorry ma'am, but I'm afraid all the tables are reserved for our other guests."

She grinned at him. "Ah, I see. That's very unfortunate. I suppose I'll just sit on the floor, then." When she moved to swat some imaginary dirt away from the varnished wooden surface and was about to sink through her knees, Nick hurriedly stopped her. "Actually, I just got a message through that a reservation has been cancelled. No need to sit on the floor. Now, if you'll follow me, miss," he politely sputtered. She could see the relief washing over him when she stood again, and she only now figured it probably would have been a sight to see a guest sitting on the floor because a waiter had jokingly told them all the tables were reserved.

"What a shame they had to cancel their reservation, this table has such a good view," she told Nick, as he held a chair out for her. He'd seated her beside central window, overlooking the great view of the well-kept gardens. She spotted Matthew in front of a big fountain, who was struggling to control a rearing horse and she swore she heard Nick sigh and mutter "idiot" under his breath. She decided not to comment on it.

A figure appearing beside Nick made her turn back. "I think I'll take it from here," he said, offering a smile to Nick and then to her. Nick nodded, his eyes not leaving the unruly horse. "If you need me, I'll be right outside," he muttered, before taking off.

"It's nice to finally meet you, miss. My name is Jamie, and I'll be your chef for the time you'll be staying with us," he told her. He was adorned in a black kitchen uniform, not a crease or spot to be seen, with a leather apron tied around his waist. His hair was slicked back, in a similar fashion to Matt's, styled to the sides and back from where his hair parted. He had a kind twinkle in his eyes yet seemed a bit on the awkward side judging from the way he fumbled his hands a bit much. "It's nice to meet you too, Jamie," she replied kindly, "I was wondering what the menu is like for today? I don't understand if it's a limited one, seeing as I'm presumably the only one staying for dinner tonight."