Page 12 of Taste

The fact that Claire was thinking ahead calmed me somewhat. I’d already sent most of our other non-essential staff home and closed the coffee lounge and gift shop, which left me with the bare minimum of people left on duty.

“Mr Christensen, dear Mr Christensen.” Great. Another clusterfuck of a disaster was heading my way as Mrs Sorrel strode across the lobby with determination in her step and a half-empty glass of champagne in her hand. She and her husband were high-maintenance regulars, royalty within the financial world, and had me on a tight leash with their constant demands and equally constant threats of serving my head on a platter to Mr Klutz. Not that I took them seriously, but she was here, which meant trouble because I was painfully aware she’d made a last-minute reservation, which we had been unable to fulfil.

“I don’t suppose your staff has informed you of the massive oversight this evening.” She took an aggressive stance at the reception desk that I was half cowering behind.

“Mrs Sorrel, how wonderful to see you! You’re looking well, as always,” I greeted her, but I was already sliding down a slippery slope. She looked ready to squash me under the heel of her towering boots. Boots that had probably cost the equivalent of my monthly wage.

“I’mextremelydisappointed.” She slammed her glass down hard on the marble reception desk. So was I, but I didn’t tell her that. She knew better than to pull these kinds of stunts, but as usual, her failure to plan ahead would be completely my fault.

“Mrs Sorrel, is there anything wrong with your accommodation? You booked a double with street views, and I see that is exactly what you have been provided. Room 552 is a corner room so has extra space and a seating area. It’s actually one of my favourite rooms.” I was churning out bullshit, and she knew it.

“We always stay in the Prince Louis Suite, and this is ridiculous.” Her lips pursed, showing off her impressive fillers and monthly Botox injections.

“Mrs Sorrel, with all due respect, on this occasion, you didn’t actually book the Prince Louis Suite.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, we are regular guests. We spend thousands here, every week, entertaining clients. Would it hurt for you to treat us with the respect we deserve? We pay your wages, Mr Christensen, don’t forget that.”

And here we were again, the usual threats weaving their way into her extensive vocabulary of insults.

“Mrs Sorrel, I am so sorry we have disappointed you on this occasion, but as I discussed with you last time, perhaps in future you could phone our reservations manager and place a block booking on the Prince Louis Suite so it would always be at your disposal.”

Mrs Sorrel leant further in over the reception desk, pinning her ample cleavage right up in my face.

“You know I only deal with you, Mr Christensen, not these other fools you have running the show here. Now, can you sort out this massive misunderstanding and rectify the matter? Otherwise, I will be forced to contact Mr Klutz. You do remember that Mr Klutz is a dear friend of mine, don’t you? I’m sure you’re aware how much he hates to be disturbed by such trivial matters. Then, of course, there is the fact that our clients will be severely inconvenienced if you force my hand and I have to cancel tonight’s dinner. I’m sure if I speak to Mr Klutz he will make things happen. I don’t see why these failures to see to our needs must keep interrupting our otherwise wonderful relationship, Mr Christensen.”

Oh, she was a certified bitch all right, but she’d have to work fast if she wanted to beat Eileen Pruitt to having me sacked. Still, I smiled sweetly and tried again to explain to her suddenly deaf ears that booking and paying for one basic room wouldn’t magically materialise into a completely different and much more costly night in a hotel suite. Not that Mrs Sorrel was listening, tapping her fingernail impatiently against the marbled reception desk.

“As I say, Mrs Sorrel, I can only apologise. Perhaps if you give me a call on Monday, we could go through your future booking needs? You know I would be delighted to make those reservations for you.” She wasn’t listening to a word I was saying.

“Mr Quinton promised to fix this for me when I spoke to him earlier.Hewas most understanding of our unfortunate situation.”

I was quite sure Mark had been more than understanding and had further stirred the pot of shit this woman always brought, but however understanding he was and I could usually be, tonight my shit-take-o-meter was well into the red.

“Mrs Sorrel, you know we look forward to your every visit, and I’m confident Mr Quinton has prepared something absolutely delicious for your dinner tonight. Have you tried the pan-fried scallops? They are to die for, I promise. Now, I think after tonight’s culinary delights, perhaps you and Mr Sorrel would enjoy a complimentary bottle of champagne? I will arrange for one to be placed on ice and delivered to your room for your return from dinner. Might I can suggest a sample platter of our in-house handmade chocolates as an appropriate accompaniment?”

“Mr Christensen—”

“I will mention to Mr Quinton about your table, ensuring you have impeccable service tonight.” I was smiling so hard I had cramp in my cheeks. Anything to put an end to her constant flow of bile. “We pride ourselves on being your choice of venue, Mrs Sorrel.” I picked up a random stack of papers, giving the impression of being terribly busy and unavailable for any further conversation.

“But the Prince Louis Suite?” she stuttered out.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mrs Sorrel,” I called, already out the back door.

Not that the back office was any calmer, as Seth was punching out room keys for the last of the incoming airline crews, scribbling numbers on the sheets of paper in front of him, then angrily scratching them out again with the pencil in danger of snapping in his furious grip.

“We’re fucked,” he huffed, giving me a resigned glance. “We are so bloody oversold already, and then someone on the morning shift accepted a walk-in booking. I’m drafting a bloody memo for next week. Fucking check our numbers before doing shit like that.”

“Latest?” I asked, leaning across the desk so I could see the numbers as he refreshed the screen. Yep. We were, as he had so elegantly put it,fucked.

“These two rooms here will arrive. They rang earlier.” I pointed at the screen. “Mr Ahmed always works late at the office, so he’ll be here at midnight. Don’t unblock his room. KLM has six crew, two pilots. Then Iberia is coming in with a crew of fourteen.”

“I’ve checked in all the crew. The numbers still don’t add up. We’re six rooms short. Six, Finn, and it’s not like I can find them rooms elsewhere. Eleanor rang around an hour ago. Everywhere was either full or overbooked. London is heaving tonight. There are rooms free down towards Gatwick, but…yeah. By the way, Mrs Sorrel can have the Prince Louis Suite now. We had it blocked for that corporate booking with no name, but Natalie has apparently cancelled that one.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t give it to the Sorrels. Give it to the airline crew. In fact, let Mr Ahmed have it.”

“I like your thinking.” Seth laughed and swiftly scribbled the suite number on the arrivals list for our usually lifesaving crew members. They were always keen to share rooms in return for the generous bribery of free food and numerous bottles of champagne, and I already had Air Croatia running up a bill in the bar, which I would happily sign off since they’d delivered two spare rooms to me on a first-class silver platter this morning. Two of them were married and wanted to share a room anyway, and two others were happy to pretend to be. Their words, not mine. And yes, Mrs Sorrel would not get anywhere near her coveted Prince Louis Suite. I would make sure of that.

I’d had worse evenings, worse numbers. There were only a few more guests left on our expected arrivals list, but it was likely all of them would turn up, especially in this weather. I also had to accommodate a tonne of staff this evening and had blocked off several rooms for them, which I now needed to make available.

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