Chapter Five
Elle's POV
It was so cold outside that it should have been a sin not to bundle up in a hundred layers, fingers curling lazily around a mug of hot chocolate. I envied the guests as they trailed to their rooms, but the hotel reception desk was a suitable stand-in.
It didn't have the same homey feel of a warm bed or the chocolaty richness of a hot beverage, but it was toasty in front of the heater.
I peeled my blazer from my body, carefully folding it and tucking it under the desk. I settled into the computer desk with a contented sigh before swivelling the chair to pluck a single leaf of paper from the tray.
Quel hovered by my shoulder as I scratched out a quick list of things to do. When he was sure that he had my attention, he used the tip of his pen to pull open the top drawer of the filing cabinet, snubbing the contents with a low glare.
'These need to be done tonight.'
I smiled sweetly, ignoring his clipped tone as I riffled through the files. Quel wasn't as bad as everyone thought. He was under a lot of pressure to run the hotel's front end. He was uptight because he had to be, and I respected him. He didn't need any more mouthy employees complaining behind his back. I was extra charming with him because I knew the others weren't, and he always appreciated it. 'I'll get them done. I've got to stay back until the conference is over anyway.'
'I'm sorry, Elliot. Mr Straton has been on my heel about it, and I haven't had the chance all day. I've been trying to prep the conference room, help the guests, and answer the phones. I've been exhausted since the get-go.'
'It sounds like I've come at just the right time.' I quirked, lowering my gaze and focusing on how his skin seemed to tremble. 'It's not fair that you do all the work. Take a break Quel. I'm sure you haven't had one all day, and I'll be alright for a half hour.
He puffed out his cheeks, blowing the irritation through his teeth. He considered it, but the way his blood seemed to jump in his veins, desperate for a cigarette, was too much, so he snatched his blazer and stalked down the hallway. He paused to dart into the staffroom, most likely searching for his vape. He couldn't smoke while working at the Moritz Hotel, but it seemed to help his cravings enough to last through the day.
I spent the hour drafting employee forms for Friday's staff meeting and checking the balance of the guests in their rooms. Emails poured in faster than I could respond to them, and I tried to keep my head above water as my fingers flew across the keyboard.
Quel came and went, drifting through the hotel with a million jobs to do while I answered phone calls and greeted returning guests, happy to suggest restaurants and then call to reserve their table when they asked.
I had cleared half of Quel's papers when a couple approached the desk, jolting from my skin when they spoke, so buried in the files that I hadn't seen them coming.
'Does the hotel offer itineraries?'
I glanced up sharply, glad to push the file away, my brain numbed from filling out countless payslips.
I was never meant to be the administrator for the Moritz hotel. Still, when Mary, the old administration's clerk, fled from the hotel in hysterics four months ago after a guest had screamed himself blue, the hotel had asked me to handle the payslips. It had almost been like they had pulled a name out of a hat and gone with their first choice in a desperate pinch for a replacement.
I'd spent two weeks filling out payslips before they announced they were sending me on an all-expenses-paid twelve-week course in Accounts Administration during the summer. Nanna had to fill out a special form to excuse me from school. I nearly didn't take it, but Nanna had encouraged me, suggesting it was a good safety net if I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do after school.
The guests, a large woman and a ruddy-faced man who barely reached her shoulders, crowded the reception desk, offering me a tentative smile.
I grinned back, swiping the file from the desk and filing it into the cabinet, desperate for something other than clerical work to keep me entertained. 'We don't offer pre-planned itineraries, but we are happy to help you plan one. What kind of activities were you thinking of doing?'
She smiled sheepishly, drumming her fingers against the smooth black countertop. 'We don't know much about this town. Our friends had organised a trip, but work plans changed, and they couldn't make it. They sent us instead.'
'Ah,' I walked around the desk to pull two of the lounging chairs over for the couple. Quel would have scolded me for such atrocities, but I wanted them to feel comfortable. 'You're the Myres. Mr and Mrs Welsh called to transfer your names last week. I was the one who handled the call.'
'Belinda and Charles Myers.'
'It's always a pleasure to have new guests at our hotel.' I rifled through the bottom drawer for the activities we offered through the hotel. 'I'm Elle. I work most afternoons, so if you need anything, you are more than welcome to come to me personally, and I'll help you get it sorted. But someone will always be staffing the front desk if I'm not around.'
I thumbed through the papers, searching for something specific within the files. My eyes lit with excitement as I extracted it from the pile. I clutched it in my hands, wanting to give them an explanation before I presented them with the activity. 'Now, I'm just going to need you to hear me out. It's a little unorthodox.' I slid the flyer across the table, watching Charles' face redden even more, a ruby glow rising to his cheeks. 'This tour is only offered once a month, and you've come at just the right time. People travel from out of state just to go on this one.'
Charles turned to his wife, curling his fingers loosely around her arm. 'Oh, Belinda. We have to go.'
Her expression was apprehensive, and she studied the flyer silently. I waited patiently until she finished examining the brochure and placed it delicately on the desk. 'What's so special about a ghost tour?'
'You'll learn that we don't do anything halfway here in Aucteraden. A human runs the tour, but it focuses on the town's history, with a sneak peek into pack legends. It's in line with the lunar calendar, and we are fortunate to have a wolf pack that hosts our guests during their festivals.'
'Oh, please, Belinda. It sounds so exciting!'
It took a little more convincing, but eventually, Belinda was on board. We spent another half an hour drawing up a schedule that made them both happy and after that, they hung around, listening to me detail the town's history. When they left, I busied myself with finalising their plans, knowing I was running on borrowed time when stores started closing for the night.
Carmon Sinclair, one of the tour guides for the ghost tour, was the last on my list of people to call. She was notorious for talking your ear off if you let her, and I knew if I didn't save her till last, I wouldn't make it through all my calls. She answered on the third ring.
'Elle, is that you?'
I chuckled, leaning back in the chair and twirling a pen between my fingers as I watched the second hand on the wall-art clock across the room seamlessly arch in a circle as the conference drew nearer. 'And what if it wasn't me?'
'You always work on a Monday afternoon. Plus, you're my favourite client. You always bring me new ghosties.'
'I always knew I was someone's favourite.' I grinned, stopping my pen in its track and playfully pretending to flip my hair over my shoulder. 'I've got some good news.'
'Any news from you is always good news.'
'Well, then, this is great news. I've got two more bookings for the tour on Wednesday.'
Carmon clapped her hands together, squealing gleefully. 'The more, the merrier.' She chimed, and I pictured her twirling around her office like a child with no concerns.
'I know, right.' I breezed, a green flash snatching my attention away from our conversation. 'Hang on a second, Carmon. I've got guests walking up to the desk.'
I stood up, smiling at the approaching family. 'Welcome to the Moritz Hotel. I'm Elle. Have we got a booking today, or would you like to make one with us?'
'Ah,' her cheeks were ruddied from the cold chill outside, and she frantically dug through her bag, 'We've got a booking.' She declared triumphantly as she pulled out her booking confirmation.
She smoothed the crinkled paper onto the reception desk, blowing hot air out of her cheeks. 'It's under Brickleberry.'
I graciously took the email, discarding it on the desk as I typed her name into our booking system. Within seconds I had her keycard in hand, with a second one for her husband and the offer of a third, if needed, for their teenage daughter. She smiled and nodded, waiting patiently as I printed off a temporary keycard, listening carefully to my hotel spiel.
She nodded the whole time I spoke, like a bobblehead doll, asking again about the pool. 'It's on the third floor, with the gym and café. If you forget, it's always listed in our elevators. Usually, the first three floors are accessible to our guests at all times, but unfortunately, we do have a private conference happening tonight, so we ask that you steer clear of second-floor offices just for tonight.'
'Those were...?'
'If you took this elevator, it would be to the right.'
'Thank you.' She called over her shoulder as she wrangled her kids towards the elevator. When they disappeared, a hush fell over the foyer.
'Alright.' I sighed, settling the pen back into my fingers and pressing the phone to my ear. 'Tell me what happened at Domonic's last week. Did Anthony really get fired?'
'Oh my god, Elle, it was the most magical scene I've ever witnessed.' Carmon gasped, her voice lit with amusement. 'Paul called Anthony into his office on Thursday morning, but none of us thought about it. By lunchtime, it was clear that Paul was angry, but Anthony vowed he had no idea why. Our guesses were way off, by the way. Anyway, just as the office was starting to pack up, Pual stormed into the room, spitting fire. He fired Anthony in front of the whole office because he hadn't left that morning.'
'Jesus!' I hissed through my teeth, eyes peeled to the phone lines in case someone tried to call through. 'That's got to be tough.'
'Yeah, if it was the first time Paul had tried to fire him, maybe. Apparently, it was the fourth time he tried that week alone.'
'Ha-' my snarky response died on my lips as I caught a flash of green on the desk.
My pen slipped between my fingers and bounced from the table, skidding across the floor towards Kaden Delossa. My breath hitched as I watched him stride across the smooth white marble floors, confidently leading the march towards the elevator.
He didn't look my way once, not even when his beta in training scrambled after my pen and tossed it back to me. Or even when my hand-eye coordination failed me, it swacked against my shoulder, clattering to the floor by my feet. His suit hung nicely around his shoulders, hugging him, and his focused gaze drove him each step closer to the conference room.
Kaden Delossa was why most girls in Aucteraden had struggled to live with mediocrity because why would you settle when perfection rested at your fingertips?
He'd always been a weak spot for anyone with a beating heart and eyes, but it was like he was my own kryptonite.
I held my breath until he disappeared into the elevator, gone just as quickly as he had come in. I tossed my gaze skyward and thanked whichever god was listening that he hadn't looked my way. Whenever he latched those steely brown eyes on me, I felt like my whole world melted away, and I knew it could have been much worse than a dropped pen.
I wondered if I could focus, knowing he was in the room above me, my heart drummed in my chest just thinking about it, and I stared blankly at a loose file sprawled out before me. The words rolled on the page, and all I could see were his eyes. He'd only been in the room for twenty seconds, but even that was enough to rattle me senseless.
'Elle?' Carmon's voice startled me out of my daydream fantasy in which Kaden had turned suddenly and swept me into his arms. 'Are you still there?'