Page 55 of Cruel Legacy

“If you’re hungry, though, you can come in and grab a bite. I’m sure there are leftovers in the fridge.”

“You have keys to the diner?” I ask, making sure I heard her correctly.

“Of course.” She says, like it’s common knowledge. Hell, it probably is. I’m just not hip on the inner workings of this town. “Well?” She asks, when I don’t respond.

“Well, what?”

“Did you want me to grab you some food?”

“Oh, uh. No. Thank you. I actually ate before I walked here, but the pie…”

She smiles, knowingly. “The pie is incredible. We don’t have to go into the diner for that. I happen to have some in the hotel. Come with me.”

I’m not in the habit of blindly following people, but for some reason, I find myself marching after her into the hotel lobby. It’s warm and cozy and feels a lot like one of those quaint bed and breakfasts you see on television, rather than a glitzy hotel. I immediately relax.

She leads me to a cute little nook where there’s a beverage and snack cart set up. “Oh wow. This is quite a spread.” I say, staring at the selections.

“We like to have some treats on hand for our guests if they want to sit by the fire or out on our patio to watch the sunset.”

“You take debit card, right?”

“Everything you see is complimentary for the guests.”

“Right, and I’m not a guest, so….”

She gives me a curt nod. “I see. Well, I invited you inside. That makes you my guest, so I can’t take your money.” She cuts me off before I can give a counter argument. “But if you feel like you need to pay, we’re about to hit an evening rush with check-ins and I’m short staffed. I could really use someone to answer phones for about an hour. Think you can handle that?”

“For one slice of pie?”

“For a slice of the best damn pie in California.”

“The pie will cost me $3.25. Seems like you’ll be getting off cheap on the labor.”

“I’ll throw in all the drinks you want.”

“Water is free.”

Her lips twitch. “Two slices of pie and coffee?”

I can take the pie with me, and probably use the phone to call a ride. “Sold.” She nods, and I gesture towards the desk. “Show me the ropes, boss.”

“It’s Evangeline, but everyone around her just calls me Van.”

“Thea.”

I’m glad she doesn’t try to shake my hand or anything. She just leads me across the lobby and stops in front of the desk, motioning for me to step behind it.

“It’s real simple. Read the script.” She says, pointing to the laminated paper on the desk. “Most of the calls will come from inside the hotel. Jot down any messages or complaints, and someone will come by and collect them.”

“What if someone is calling to verify their reservation? Is the computer on?” I ask, stabbing at a button.

“We print out our reservation list a week in advance, so you can look it up in this book.” She points to a green leather-bound binder. “If it’s further out then that, just press two on the phone to transfer the call over to guest relations.” I look over to the other desk, which must be guest relations. “All set?”

I nod. Easiest way to earn pie. “Got it.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you in an hour.”

It’s two hours later, before I get relieved. The girl Van was waiting for came in, but the phone was ringing off the hook, so I hung around a little longer to help. It was an efficiently run madhouse.

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