Page 13 of Room for Improvement

Her fingers moved carefully over the screen. Pete was now blocked from calling her from his cell. Her hand was shaking as she put the phone away.

It’s done. You’re over him. He is no longer a part of your life.

At least Pete had shown his true colors before their relationship went one step further. Before she gave up her room in the apartment she shared with Grace and actually moved in with him. Grace no doubt would have let Vivian move back in with her, but the humiliation would have been awful.

She turned and glanced out the window. Anything rather than meeting the gaze of the driver, whom she sensed was eager to impart his own words of relationship wisdom. Vivian had received enough of them from Grace and various other concerned friends. She didn’t need a stranger putting his two cents worth in as well.

The Uber swept down the long winding drive. Green lawns, edged with beautifully trimmed garden beds, spread out on either side. Vivian gently smiled.Stunning.If there was one thing that Royal Resorts excelled in above all other resort companies, it was the grand entrance effect. Most of their guests may not be among the super wealthy, but they certainly made them feel like they were, even if it was just for a little while.

Her bank account was in a battered state, along with her heart, but at least she would be sleeping in a luxury resort tonight. Nothing soothed a torn opinion of yourself better than the soft weave of percale sheets.

But first I am going to have a cocktail and then a long walk on the beach.

Thank heavens sampling the resort food and drink was included in her job description. You couldn’t wax lyrically about a hotel’s wine selection without having first tried it.

* * *

While the driver grabbed her suitcase from out of the car’s trunk, Vivian sat in the back and carefully touched up her matte lipstick. Remaining in the car was a deliberate act. Only peasants hung around the trunk of a car waiting to retrieve their luggage, and the last thing she wanted to do was to stamp herself as being someone who didn’t belong at the Royal Resorts Platinum Collection, Laguna Beach.

“I am officially on the clock. Time to get my business woman in need of a holiday vibe on,” she whispered, slipping her Mac lipstick case back into her bag. Two hours out from LA she had changed into a blue and white polka dot blouse, matching it with a black A-line skirt and plain heels.

The door of the car opened, and a uniformed valet bowed his greeting. Vivian swung her legs out in true movie star style and rose to her feet. She gave the little sigh she had perfected from watching theDevil Wears Pradatoo many times. One day she would treat herself to a copy of the black blazer the lead actress wore after her fashion makeover.

“Welcome to the Royal Resort Platinum Collection, Laguna Beach,” announced the valet.

Royal Resorts had clearly moved with the times and dropped the archaic madam and sir routine. Thank heavens. Being called madam or ma’am made her feel old.

“Thank you.” Vivian nodded to her luggage. “Just the one case, I’m traveling light.”

She had heard it from someone on a plane as they made their way into First Class last year and the smooth tone of the line had stuck with her ever since. A bubble of excitement bounced in her belly every time she used it.

I’m in LA, the city of faking it until you make it. I may as well play the role of a wealthy resort guest.

She followed the valet through the ornate sandstone entrance and into the airconditioned resort lobby. Her gaze slid left and right as she walked, taking it all in. Only a real tourist would stop to rubberneck at the ceiling, and the Italian marble floor. No, she was far too world weary to do such a tiresome thing. Later she would come back and sneak some photos for the magazine.

She tipped the valet, then joined the surprisingly lengthy queue to check in.

A queue? Not good. I hope it’s not a sign of things to come.

From where she stood, she was able to see the front desk. There were three staff bustling about the place, busily processing guests. Her gaze drifted to the two empty computer stations. It was 3.30pm, prime check in time. Every single counter should be staffed at this hour of the day. Even management should be on hand to make sure that every guest only had to wait the bare minimum before being handed their key cards.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It might be midafternoon in California, but her body was still on New York time, which meant it was 6.30pm. After an early start followed by a long day of travelling, she was well past the point of being ready to be shown to her room. Her mind was already mentally peeling off her clothes and stepping under a hot shower.

This lack of service was not like her usual experience of Royal Resorts. They prided themselves on a quick and smooth guest experience. A small cross went against the Laguna Beach resort report card.

I don’t normally get to mark their book this early. Those rumors about the resort having teething issues might be right.

When she finally made it to the head of the line, Vivian offered her corporate credit card, the plain one which said Lionel Investments Inc on it. Lionel somehow thought it was funny to have his name on all the business cards. Vivian suspected it made him feel a little important, so she just went along with it. She didn’t care either way, as long as it was accepted. Her own personal card would have sent up a red flag as even the smallest of charges would have smashed through her credit limit. According to her monthly credit card statement, at the current rate she was paying it off, it would be one hundred and nine years before she cleared the debt.

Her thoughts shifted to settle on what was happening in front of her. The clerk who was supposed to be checking Vivian into the resort was busily tapping away at her computer. Then she tapped some more. A crease appeared on the woman’s brow.

Vivian’s heart sank as the clerk’s fingers came to an abrupt halt. From her long experience of dealing with the front desks of hotels and resorts, this was never a good sign.

Please don’t let the card have been declined.

Any minute now she would have to call the office and ask that the accounts team made a quick payment. Hopefully someone was working late. If not, she would be put in the embarrassing situation of having to sit in the lobby until the card could be sorted.

The woman finally cleared her throat. “I’m sorry madam, but your room isn’t yet ready. I am informed by housekeeping it may be a thirty minute wait.”

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