Page 4 of Poseidon's Island Flower

“We should just burn the whole unit down.” She shook her head. “This entire building is nothing but a pool of sperm and other bodily fluids.”

She grabbed the disinfectant and began spraying the suite with the air refreshener. I gave my head a vigorous shake, the sheets rustling in my hands as I pulled them off and stuffed them in the cart outside.

“I don’t think we would get paid if the unit burned down. Besides, this is the last single bedroom, then we’re on to the suites. We know tips will be higher over there,” I said.

Right, the tips. Because the tips over here were nothing but used condom wrappers, edible panties, and spare butt plugs. But it was the price we paid to get the better rooms to clean. It was our agreement with management because no one wanted to clean this three story budget friendly hotel.

They were outdated, severely worn, and were due for an upgrade. The rooms were kept that way so that those who could afford the airfare to Hawaii could get a cheap room. Unfortunately, those customers that stayed here were not the nicest or the cleanest.

“You about done? I finished mine.” Candice strode into the bathroom, spraying more of the antibacterial junk she infused with essential oils. Sure, it smelled like peppermint, but I swear it could kill a great white if you sprayed it in the eye.

“There, now you can’t smell the vomit that covered the toilet.” She tapped her nails on the door, impatiently waiting for me so we could continue to the good rooms.

I continued with my work, putting on a new set of seriously bleached sheets, cursing whoever stayed in this room. “I hope a centipede crawled up in their bed and took a chunk out of their—”

“That is some seriously angry bed making,” Candice laughed. “Let me help you.”

Once we finished, she clapped her hands in triumph. I, on the other hand, felt like this task alone wore me to pieces.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Candice rubbed my shoulders. “How was sending Koma off this morning?”

I sighed and my lips curled into a small, satisfied grin. My sweet little brother, who I had looked after for eight years, boarded his first plane and headed off to college. He was the first of our ancestors to pursue a higher education and be accepted to college.

“Yeah, it was fine. I’m just a little tired. Come on, let’s go to the next one.” I flatly ignored her, refusing to even look in her direction.

But she gave me a glare that said I would be asked about it later. Candice didn’t leave anything alone, not even when I didn’t want to talk about it.

That’s just who she was—the little blonde that didn’t care that I was half Hawaiian, half Caucasian. I was simply Lani, the overworked friend that barely had time to sleep.

We pushed our cart across the resort to the recently refurbished area. The resort wasn’t as large as most, but it had great five star reviews on the island for its privacy and first class service.

Which is why, as the senior cleaning team, we called first dibs on the private suites.

Just because these were high-class people, didn’t mean they wouldn’t leave a mess, but at least the tipping would be better.

And boy, did I need to order me a good greasy pizza and a pint of ice cream after the morning I just had.

Candice knocked on the door and paused to make sure no one shouted they were inside. She pushed the master key card in and opened the door, revealing the massive room.

This was more of a luxurious condo—two bedrooms, a living room, a small dining room, and a kitchen.

Overly lavish chandeliers hung in the living room and kitchen. Large, ornately crafted vases placed on sparsely decorated tables held bouquets of local tropical flowers. The cream-colored couches screamed luxury despite the color begging for someone to dirty them. The large tv mounted on the wall was turned on to a soothing channel they played in hospitals for patients that were dying.

AKA the death channel.

I shuddered and turned it off.

Yeah, let’s not bring back terrible memories right now. Let’s suffer one thing at a time.

The tiny kitchen had hardly been used, just dishes from room service—exactly what the tiny kitchen was for. Because the last thing the people who paid for these rooms thought about was cooking.

The living room was mostly clean. Just a quick vacuum, dusting and fresh flowers and we were good to go—nothing overly exerting to complain about at the moment, anyway. Because once we hit the bedroom, it might get a little freaky deaky.

“I’ll take the right bedroom; you take the left one?” Candice chirped, heading to the right side of the living room. She pranced to the opposite bedroom from where I was heading and shoved the bedroom door wide open, not even attempting to see if anyone was inside.

She said she hated walking in on people having sex, which had happened quite a few times. But the smirk on her face when she fake apologized and shut the door told me otherwise.

I swear, if they asked her to join them, she just might do it.

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