Page 7 of Room Service
“Please don’t do that,” I plead. I need every penny, and fifteen minutes will be money taken from my savings.
“Don’t beg, Elise,” she bites. “It’s most unladylike.” And then she turns and walks to the door, but before she pulls it open, she says, “Clean up your face and get back to work. I don’t pay you to be sniffling in the toilet.” Then she’s gone, the door closing loudly behind her.
“Bitch,” I whisper, feeling more angry than upset after that little showdown. Although, it can’t really be called that, seeing as she didn’t let me get a fucking word in.
I go to the sink and turn the tap on, leaning over to splash some cold water on my face. It doesn’t matter how much water I splash on there, it’s not going to cure my puffy red eyes, and I don’t have any make-up on because I don’t wear it to work, so I can’t even try to hide it with anything. I’ll just have to look like a wreck for the remainder of the day.
With a sigh, I make my way out of the toilets and back down the corridor, to return to the floor I was working on. As I walk near the lift, it opens, and out walks the man who made me crumble—through no fault of his own.
He stops and stares, and I feel a small smile grace my lips, in appreciation of his kindness.
And what does he do?
He winks at me. Fucking winks at me, sending all of my lady parts into chaos. And then he walks out of the lift and turns to go down another corridor.
Huh. I wonder where he’s going? His room isn’t on this floor. But I shake my head and realise that it’s none of my damn business.
I push the door for the stairwell and make my way back up to the seventh floor, thinking about how I’m going to end up staying late tonight, to make up for those fifteen minutes, and hopefully add a few more.
Chapter Six
DORIEN
She’s like glass. Fragile.
I’ve never been a fan of glass.
It’s not a challenge to break.
But something tells me there’s a fire inside of her that is yet to be coaxed out.
And I’m going to enjoy being the one to light it.
Chapter Seven
ELISE
My back aches and my feet hurt, but I stayed and made up for my fifteen minutes, and worked an extra two hours after that. I’m exhausted, but it’s kept my mind busy and kept me away from home for a little longer, so it’s not all bad. I know I’ll be going home to a whinging husband, because how dare I stay to work late and not have time to go shopping and cook him dinner, but fuck it, I need the money.
I take the last rubbish bag to the chute and throw it in, looking to the window to the left of me, seeing that the stars are shining brightly, glittering, looking so beautiful. I appreciate the little things. The simple things. The true beauty of things that other people take for granted.
It helps me in ways I can’t explain. The world is such a wonderful place, if you just take a moment to really look at it.
I wrap my arms around me and walk along the corridor, ready to get my things and go home. Home… shame it doesn’t feel like that. I’m a maid at work, and I’m a maid in my own house. It’s pretty much all I do. Pity party for one over here.
I go to the ground floor and into the staff room where my locker is and open it, taking out my bag and changing into my trainers. I close my locker and turn around, only for the door to fly open abruptly. Oh great, it’s Hayley. As if I needed to have a run-in with her again today.
“Elise, you’re still here, thank God,” she says, and for the first time since I’ve worked here, she sounds somewhat relieved by my presence.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
“Yes. I need you to stay,” she informs me.
“What? Why?” I question. She’s asked me on a couple of occasions before to stay, but never with the same urgency.
“I need an extra pair of hands to waitress a private function, and I need the room cleared after.”
“I’ve already worked an extra two hours tonight and I’m beat,” I tell her honestly.
