Page 38 of Taste

“It wasn’t me,” he said, holding up his hands.

“Are you even on duty today, Reubs?”

“Nah, just visiting my old man. But I heard the radio. It’s not me. I have nothing to do with Mr Nick-it-all. Well, apart from that he tried to take a bunch of car keys from the rack the other day and I kept sticking my name badges and a load of other random crap in his hand to distract him.”

I groaned and covered my eyes. Because…fuck. Fuck this fucking hotel and all the shit that kept rolling in.

“Thank you, Reuben,” I squeezed out in a constipated voice, hoping he couldn’t tell I was about to lose it completely. “That’s good thinking, I suppose.”

“I know you don’t like me…”

“I like you Reuben.” I seriously wanted to hurl myself through the walls in this windowless cardboard box I called home. “You’re a great worker when you focus on your tasks and don’t get distracted by other things. Your customer service skills are…unusual at times, but people like you, and you’re really good with our more difficult guests, which you just proved with this last incident with Mr Nicholson. There are rules here, though, the first one being that you’re not supposed to be on the premises when you’re not on duty.”

“I know, but it keeps me out of trouble being here. I like hanging out with the guys by the door, and I get to see my dad. I get bored at home.”

“And you get into trouble. I get that. But this is a business, Reubs. We can’t have the police turning up here asking to speak to you every time you get bored on your days off and end up knee-deep in something illegal. What was it last time? Joyriding? Scamming people over football tickets? Pickpocketing?”

“I didn’t pickpocket anyone!” He came over all sullen like a grumpy teen, which was what he was. His juddering leg and bitten-to-shreds fingers reminded me too much of myself at his age. But it wasn’t my job to get the kid a diagnosis or keep him out of trouble. I wasn’t even his supervising manager, yet here I was wondering if I could get Amelia to fast-track him to occupational health so he could get a shedload of Ritalin or whatever into his frazzled veins.

“Finley?” And there was Mabel, right on cue. “Hi, Reubs! How are you, babes?”

“All the better for seeing you, beautiful!” Reuben said, and goddamn, there was a blush on his face. I didn’t read anything into that though, seeing as he flirted with everything that moved, but I had to agree. Mabel looked incredible, today swathed in a black satin wrap dress and skyscraper heels, rocking a bob wig that matched their scarlet pouting lips.

“You needed to see me?” They looked as stressed as I felt, and I wasn’t sure this would go well.

“Christensen, over?” Elizabeth’s cheery voice sounded through the radio. Mabel crossed their arms, and Reuben grinned, both listening intently. I rolled my eyes.

“Go ahead.”

“We removed a full set of silver cutlery, a saucepan, fourteen plates, three hallway lamps and two sets of conference room curtains from Mr Nicholson’s luggage. I’ve repacked his bags and sent them back down with security for check out. Over.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. I’ll get that report filed then.” Another job to do.

“Oh, and he had three staff name badges too.” I could hear her laughing. “I’ll come down and you those later. Seems he’s developed quite a fondness for our Reuben, since all of them are his.”

I was going to reply when Seth popped his head around the corner.

“Boss, do you know anything about a booking in the name of Pruitt? Accounting had an email from their travel agent who’s claiming we agreed to refund their entire stay. Also, the police have just pulled up outside.”

And behind Seth was Eddie, looking as dishevelled and stressed as I felt. “Christensen, Mr Nicholson wants a word. Your call, of course, but I’ve had enough of his excuses, so if you don’t put in that report to have him banned, I will.”

It was one of those days, and it could only get better.

It was almost two hours later when I managed to drag Mabel away from their fake credit card scam report—the reason the police were on site—and subsequent arrest of two guests unable to provide a genuine payment method. Mabel was still flustered by the time the two very attentive police officers left, dragging their feet. All the while, I stood like a creep outside the restaurant entrance, the stress building like a volcano in my chest. I needed to calm the fuck down.

“I heard you banned Nick-it-all,” Mabel said, making polite small talk. “Mr Klutz will have your arse on a plate. God knows what history those two have, since he’s still allowed to stay.”

“He’s on a corporate account, Mabs. And you’re one to talk.”

“I know.” They dragged me by the sleeve into Mark’s office, closing the door behind them. I really hoped he wasn’t around. I wasn’t equipped to deal with him yet, but I also needed to approach this in a logical way. Best case, he’d run away; worst case, we’d end up fucking in a broom cupboard. Right now, I didn’t want to risk either.

“I hope you’re not going shout at me,” Mabel said, “because I spent all day Sunday getting whipped by Mark’s temper. He fucking hated on me big time, and I suppose I deserved it. I should’ve told him the minute he mentioned this place. I knew you worked here. I could have easily stopped all this.”

“You could have. And you should have.”

“But the truth was, Finny, I wanted this gig. This was the dream. Our own place. We had a full business plan, and Ben was on board and…I couldn’t stop. I wanted this, and I convinced myself that I couldn’t let you being here stop me.”

“But why the hell didn’t you tell him?”

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