Page 11 of Hayes
I walk into the Waldorf Astoria and feel completely out of place. This is the most expensive hotel I’ve ever been inside. The few times I’ve stayed in a hotel, it’s usually been a Motel 6.
My eyes pop wide as I take it all in—the crystal chandelier, the marble statues, the fountain out front, and the slick lobby floor with an intricate design. All of it is too much and over the top.
I don’t know why Peter chose this hotel. It seems odd for a place to auction off my body, but then maybe no one wanted me. Peter is just going to pamper me with a nice hotel stay this weekend and then send me on my way.
My stomach sinks at that reality. I don’t have time to focus on that because the hotel manager is walking toward me. Suddenly I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—they know who I am. They know why I’m here, and I’m about to get kicked out of this hotel for the piece of trash I am.
“Ms. Hart? Welcome to the Waldorf Astoria; I’m Jonathan,” the man says with a nauseating smile from behind his blue suit. He’s got to be mid-thirties with slicked-back black hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin.
“Uh…thank you,” I stutter, not understanding how he knew my name. He must have hundreds of guests walk through these doors each day, and I’m a nobody.
“Can I get you a drink? A coffee, maybe? Or water?”
“A water would be good.” My heart can’t beat any faster than it already is; better stay away from caffeine.
He grins at me before retrieving a water bottle from behind the front desk. I take it from him and stare at the words Avian as they stare back at me. My lips dry.
Jesus, I couldn’t even afford the water in this place.
“If you’ll follow me, please, I’ll show you your room. Your bags have already been brought up.”
Room? I almost say, but then remember that Peter said I was to stay here until the auction was over. I assumed it would take the weekend, but he said it would take as long as it takes to ensure I get the most amount of money out of these men.
I nod.
Jonathan starts leading me through the hotel room. I can’t believe this is part of his job normally. It’s probably just because I look like a person that might try to steal something, some desperate person trying to reset the balance between the rich and the poor. He’s only escorting me so the other guests aren’t afraid of me.
As we walk, Jonathan talks about the architecture and history of the building, but all the words go in one ear and out the other. My jaw is slack as we walk, and I take in how beautiful the building is—such a mix of what looks like hundreds of years old architecture mixed with the most modern slick designs.
Jonathan just smiles at me the entire time, supposedly undisturbed by the fact I’m in ripped jeans and Converse sneakers. I’m so distracted by everything that I don’t even notice the floor we’re on until we step off the elevator—the top.
“This way, Ms. Hart.” We walk down the hallway to the sole door.
“The penthouse is usually sold as a condo and not a hotel room suite, but as no one is currently renting the place, we agreed to let you use the condo for as long as you require.”
I squirm as we stop outside the door, terrified to enter.
“I think you’ve made a mistake; I—”
“No, there’s no mistake. You’re Lilith Hart?”
I nod.
He smiles at me knowingly. “Then this is your hotel room. I’ve been told the guests should start arriving in an hour. You have use of these rooms and a private meal can be arranged for you at any hour of the day or night while you stay here.”
And then he opens the door before I have a chance to argue with him more.
I gasp.
He chuckles before covering his mouth, realizing he shouldn’t laugh at guests.
“Wow, this is incredible.”
“And it’s all yours. Four bedrooms. Four bathrooms. A full kitchen. Living room. Dining room. Office. Your bags have been delivered to the master bedroom, which is to your left.”
I nod slowly. This is a dream.
I swear I hear Jonathan chuckle again at my lack of a response. He explains some more things and then leaves me in the expansive rooms.
