Chapter Two
Drake
"Welcome to MaxwellHotels," the bellboy said, smiling at me. I tipped him generously just before closing the door.
I tilted my head to the left and then to the right, stretching my neck. It was stiff from the flight. Although the tension I’d accumulated in my body had nothing to do with the plane and its tight accommodations. The past eight weeks had been a shit show for my sister. I'd done my best to help from a distance, but it hadn’t been much support. That was why I was back in Chicago. Things were going to get back to normal soon.
I glanced around the room. The first impression was good. The Maxwell Hotel was new on the scene, which was one of the reasons it hadn't been my first choice for a job. I'd worked exclusively in large chains before, but Travis Maxwell talked a big game. He spoke about expansion and creating a legacy for his family. I liked what I'd heard, but I wasn't sold on the work ethic. Everyone seemed to take a long time to do anything I asked for, and I predicted I’d clash with many on his team. I was already butting heads with Kimberly Maxwell. Not the best start, but I didn't like to pretend. I called things as I saw them.
I rolled my suitcase deeper inside the room, debating if I should call my sister. Nah, she was probably exhausted even though it wasn't too late in the evening. I'd catch up with her tomorrow.
I was too restless to stay in the room, and I wanted to explore the hotel by myself. Now was as good a time as any, and since it was almost eight o'clock, I assumed a lot of activity would be occurring at the bar. I could see the hotel from a customer's point of view. Prime time for me to observe the staff in action and judge their efficiency and customer friendliness. I could also watch the reactions of the customers.
I changed my shirt, putting on a black one and rolling up the sleeves. I wasn't going to introduce myself by name because I really didn't want anyone to know who I was. I presumed no staff member would know about me yet, or at least no one would recognize me; I'd only spoken via video with Travis and Kimberly Maxwell until now.
Once I was ready, I went straight to the elevator. When the doors opened, there were two couples inside, chatting excitedly about Chicago.Tourists. I had to give it to the Maxwells—they'd managed to attract a good mix of tourists and businesspeople to their hotel.
When the door opened upstairs in the bar, I was doubly impressed. It was far busier than I expected it to be for a weekday, especially because the hotel wasn't fully booked; I’d checked that when I arrived. That meant they had locals here too. Another point for the business.
I inspected the crowd, looking at the staff moving around efficiently with trays and whatnot. There wasn’t a line at the bar, which was a good sign, as it meant they kept things moving. Plus it was an indicator that people were happy with the service they received at their tables.
Speaking of tables, there were absolutely none free.
There were enough empty seats at the bar, so that's where I headed. A familiar face seated by the window caught my eye. Kimberly Maxwell. She was talking to a man. It was probably a business meeting, but this late? That was commitment. Maybe her work ethic was better than I thought.
Even from a distance, I could tell she was very attractive. I’d been stunned by her beauty when we first connected for a video call. I couldn't find one picture of her or Travis Maxwell online before that, so it had been a shock to my system to see her. She was striking.
That's not why you’re here, Drake. Get your shit together.
Turning to the bartender, I ordered. "Moscow Mule, please."
"Right away, sir. Are you alone this evening?"
"Yes."
***
Kimberly
This was, without exaggeration, the most boring date I'd ever been on. Patrick talked nonstop about his work as a data analyst. I couldn't understand how he couldn't tell I wasn’t interested. Then again, I'd already faked three work emergencies, and he'd insisted on waiting for me until I finished them each time. The guy couldn't take a hint. I plastered on a fake smile when he started talking about the application of data analysis in animal migration. I loved all animals, but I sincerely did not want to hear a documentary during a date.
"Patrick, I'm sorry to interrupt again, but I need to go see Thomas. He gestured for me to join him. I think it might be something that will take a while, so if you want to go—"