Page 42 of Tasty Cherry

Brooklyn lets out a squeal. “I love a princess theme!”

We head past the luggage room to pass through the castle door. Bertie gives Mila a salute. She smiles back, and I wonder if they’ve become friends.

I want to know everything about her. What did she do last night after her shift? Did she hang out with the other interns?

Did Maverick put a move on her?

I can’t think about that.

Just inside the princess wing is the Pickle deli. We pause outside of it, but it hasn’t opened yet. “This is a great place to get food,” I tell them. “Staff gets forty percent off everything with their ID, so make use of it.”

“I got a burger from the bistro last night,” Brooklyn says. “It was so good.”

“I went to the sandwich cart,” Mila says. “I can’t wait until we have time to shop for groceries.”

“We should do that tonight,” Brooklyn says. “We can get the gang together.”

I feel jealous of their easy plans. It’s not my place to join staff members for casual things. It’s not that I can’t, but I’d put a pall over any lightheartedness. Nobody wants to get drunk with the boss.

“Let’s head into the wing. There are two floors of princess rooms. The suites are at the far end, as part of the tower. There are twelve additional floors in the tower.”

“Are the rooms circular?” Brooklyn asks.

“Some are,” I say “Let’s go look at them.”

Brooklyn lets out a squeal. “I want to see every room.” She lowers her voice. “I heard there is a sex dungeon in the haunted wing.”

I laugh, taking great care not to look at Mila. “There are two.”

Brooklyn lets out another squeal. “Can we see them?”

“Both are currently occupied,” I say. “They usually are. But we can sneak in one day when housekeeping is clearing them between occupants.”

“Do people stay there long?” Brooklyn asks, running her fingers along the sparkling pink wainscoting on the lower third of the walls. The kids do that, too.

“We have people who reserve them for an entire month at a time.” I don’t mention that sometimes there are group gatherings. They sometimes hire a bartender from the haunted bar, and they’ve gotten an eyeful more than once. We’re careful who we allow to work those events. They have to be discreet.

I hear all about it, of course.

I once got called to the dungeon by the night manager with an SOS on our headsets. I almost sent security, but then decided it might be better to go myself.

I had stayed on site later than I planned, feeling some concern about the tourists who had disclosed they were having a sex party in the dungeon. It’s allowed, but to pass the security of the suite area, every member has to show ID at the front desk. You can’t simply walk into that wing. It’s restricted. It also helps us keep tabs on how many people are attending to avoid breaking fire codes.

When I arrived, two naked women were tied to the wall. All manner of things were being done to them. At least four couples were making use of the various apparatuses. Nobody seemed deterred by my arrival.

Jeff, the night manager, was handcuffed to a T-bar over the oversized round bed. His shirt was unbuttoned. Apparently he’d said something that made them think he wanted to join, and he hadn’t figured out how to get out of it.

I told the others, with some difficulty due to a language barrier, that he had to get back to work.

They were disappointed but let him go.

That was definitely a night.

We arrive at the tower. I flash my ID at the security door.

“Do ours work here?” Brooklyn asks.

“Not as interns. Depending on where you end up assigned, it might get added. The towers and secure areas have designated staff, from managers all the way down to housekeeping and room service.”

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