Only last night, I was with a woman who bent every which way I wanted her. She even snuck out of my room without me having to waste any more time on a relationship that was going nowhere. I hit the relationship lottery.
This morning, I’m stuck inside the world-class (glass) elevator of my own hotel.
People start to gather, wondering what’s going on. Talia from the front desk arrives, followed by a bulky man wearing a maintenance staff uniform who was probably on his way to the eighth-floor room I just left.
The hotel manager, a tall brunette with short hair and a sharp charcoal suit, arrives, recognizes me, and makes a face that makes me think she might get sick. Staff and some tourists stand in the lobby, staring at me, making me feel like a caged lion. Maybe that’s why everyone remains on their side of the glass.
I slip off my sunglasses and raise an eyebrow. “Brunella?” I prompt my hotel manager.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Angelini, but the door’s been jamming all morning.”
“All morning is a long time. Why haven’t we fixed it yet?”
“I did fix it,” the maintenance man mumbles as he bends to check the bottom of the door.
“If you fixed it, I wouldn’t be stuck in here.”
He continues to work on the elevator but can’t seem to get it moving again. I won’t be trapped in here all day like a zoo animal while people pull out their phones and film me.
I fit my fingers through the gap between the doors and start to pull it open with all my might, forcing the automated system to do manual labor. The maintenance man, seeing what I’m doing, helps, and I manage to squeeze through.
Most of the tourists clap. The hotel staff is not amused, and neither am I.
“Bill me for 801.” I make eye contact with Talia from the front desk. “That phone call was nicely handled.”
She blushes. “Thank you, sir.”
I dislike incompetence almost as much as I dislike people who take no responsibility for their poor performance on the job, and I’d be a crappy hotel owner if I didn’t point out the maintenance man telling me he fixed something he only patched up, probably hoping it would hold until it broke again. If an elderly customer who needed urgent care got stuck in there, that could escalate quickly. I can’t let it go, but I won’t address the issue in front of all these people.
On my way to the carriage, I text Brunella.
I’m disappointed.
We’ll fix it, sir.
Within one hour.
Deadlines are important; otherwise, people think they have all the time in the world when, in fact, they don’t. Time is finite. Ask my dead sister. You can’t because she’s gone.
On the street, the coachman tips his tall, beige hat, and I greet him with a nod before I climb into my carriage. The horses move down the streets of my island while I enjoy the touch of the crisp early morning sun. Seagulls, joggers, and a few families bask in the beauty of the day. Retirees meet around the gambling tables that were set up outside over the weekend.
Mentally, I’m sorting out my schedule for the day when my mind drifts back to Sunshine’s gorgeous body helplessly wriggling underneath me. Now, with a growing erection, I uncross my legs and reach into my pocket for my phone, intending to dial Brunella and ask for Antonio’s phone number. I assigned him to the girl last night, so I’m sure he saw her to wherever she needed to go.
What time was her flight? One, I believe.
It’s three minutes past eight now. She probably left for Rome already on a ferry, unless she’s flying out from here. Most overseas tourists land in Italy and then take low-cost boats to the island. We’re advertising in Italy now that I’m opening more gambling venues.
My thumb hovers over Brunella’s name, but, given the incident at the hotel this morning, I slide my phone back into my pocket. I could call any number of people to get Antonio’s phone number, but I don’t.
“Nicolo,” I call to my coachman.
“Yes, sir,”
“Let’s visit Luigi’s.”
“Yes, sir.”
No questions asked, even though my request is strange. This man has worked for our family since I was a boy. In fact, almost every member of his family works for me. His daughter is currently pitching me the fashion line she designed. I promised I’d wear the suits, which should help her get the permanent design position she’s seeking at the design company.
