“Yeah, and how much were you paying them?” I ask, under my breath. “Enough they’d tell you whatever you want?”
Nik, who seems to be the only person who hears me, lets out a little laugh, which draws a few curious looks but, much to our luck, nothing beyond that.
“What happens now?” Drucker asks.
“We need to wait a little bit,” Popa says. “See if this smooths out. And meanwhile we’re running tests to see if we can find the exact location of the disturbance.”
“Wait,” Teller scoffs. “How long do we need to wait?”
Popa’s skin is glistening with sweat now. His glasses slide down his nose and he pushes them back up. “We’re not really sure.”
“You’re telling me you don’t even know that?” Teller looks around the room, incredulous, before settling on Allyn. “What kind of people are you employing here?”
“The best,” Allyn says, not even attempting to cover up the disdain in his voice.
At this, Osgood steps toward the center of the scrum and puts up his hands. “Vince, I do believe they’re going to figure this out, and we have to let them, okay? You said yourself you don’t understand half the words they use, and neither do I. We have to allow that certain things are beyond our understanding.”
“Speak for yourself, Davis,” Teller says. “My family didn’t get where it is by waiting around for so-called experts to get their senses together.”
Osgood smiles, glances at the floor, and looks back up. “You’re right about that. My family wouldn’t know anything about listening to experts. My momma was always more concerned about putting food on my plate. I learned that you do the best with what you got, and you learn a little patience in the meantime.”
Teller goes red at this, which I think is exactly the reaction Osgood was going for. At this point I wonder when MKS is going to weigh in, because if these two are making themselves the center of attention he can’t be far behind.
And right on cue, he says, “Perhaps we should delay the meeting.”
“We’re not delaying anything, okay?” Teller says, momentarily losing interest in Osgood. “I didn’t come all the way here just to go home. It’s snowing, we’re trapped, we may as well do the work.”
MKS raises his eyebrow. Like, who put you in charge?
“I agree,” Drucker says. “This thing with the sun could be a fluke. Everything else seems fine, and as long as we’re all stuck here, I don’t see the point in moving things. Do you disagree with that assessment, Allyn.”
It is very pointedly not a question. Allyn catches the drift and nods.
“It’s settled,” Teller says. “We get this done tomorrow.” He points to Popa. “And in the meantime, do your job.” Then he nods toward Grayson. “Maybe he can put you in touch with some of the folks we talked to. People who actually know what they’re talking about.”
At this point the room breaks up. Osgood steps to Teller and the two of them lock into a heated discussion. I want to talk to Allyn, but he’s already pulling Popa aside, likely to ream him out or tell him to hurry up. No sense in getting in the middle of that. MKS’s entourage closes around him like a football huddle, with him at the center. I point to Reg and Cameo.
“Gather the team,” I tell them. “Conference room three.”
As I exit the room I hear it again.
Clack-clack-clack.
Can’t wait to find out what that is.
* * *
—
Fifteen minutes later, a good chunk of the hotel staff is crammed into conference room three, the largest of them, but still slightly too small for our needs. I would have preferred the ballroom for this, but asking everyone else to clear out probably would have been met with a blank stare.
There are more people standing than there are sitting around the shiny, oval oak table. I focus in on the people I need: Reg, Cameo, Brandon, and Mbaye, as well as Tierra, who is currently point on housekeeping, and Chris, the facilities manager. I didn’t invite Nik to this one, leaving him to keep an eye on the ballroom, make sure nothing silly happens, and so that Allyn has a little backup if he needs it.
The room is filled with nervous energy. Lots of clasped hands and darting glances, as they wait for me to weave through the crowd and move toward the head of the table, underneath a television that’s playing a silent montage of the photos on the website—glamour shots of the gym and the pool and the restaurant, the photos angled so those things look bigger than they really are.
I take my spot and look out at the room; everyone is wide-eyed, tense, looking at me like they’re children about to be scolded.
Is it because of the circumstances?
Or is it me?
Whatever. Not the time to worry about that.
“Here’s the situation,” I tell everyone. “We’ve got a full house, plus some. The roads out are no good, and it’s not like we can send anyone to another hotel down the road. We’re stuck here for…” I turn to Ruby. “How long?”
“Snow is due to end sometime later tonight. Expected accumulation currently at three feet.”
“Why is it always so much?” Reg says, to no one in particular.
Ruby rotates slightly toward Reg. “It’s lake effect snow.”
“I hate lakes,” Reg says, like that means anything.
“We will have our revenge on the lakes later.” I turn to the group. “What are we low on? What do we need?” I point to Tierra. “Housekeeping, go.”
Tierra looks around, hating that she was the first called on, and says, “We’re low on soaps. We have a shipment that was due, but the truck didn’t arrive today like it was supposed to.”
“Easy enough. Ration them. We probably give out too many as it is. Next, Mbaye.” I pretend like I didn’t just tear him apart a little while ago, though he has clearly not forgotten, because when I make eye contact, he looks away. “How are we on food?”
“We’re okay for now,” he says, speaking to the table. “I may reduce portion sizes on anything we’re low on, but we’ve got more than enough for a few days.”
“Good. Cameo, any major issues we need to be aware of?”
Cameo nods. “There are still a few people arriving from Einstein. Either staffers or people who had trips scheduled and were holding out that things would change. We had to move a lot of people around, so there are some hurt feelings. Who didn’t get the fancy room. Who missed their trip and is now taking it out on us.”
“Reg,” I say, “can we finally implement that policy I’ve been suggesting?”
“What’s that?”
“To call them whiny babies and tell them to march into the sea?”
Reg sighs. “This is why you don’t work in the hospitality industry.”
“One other thing,” Cameo says. “I’m a little concerned with the people we had to stick on cots. It’s mostly staff, and they understand, but it still feels unkind. Can we have a housekeeper assigned specifically to them, and then see about some comps? Drinks and snacks at least?”
I point to Tierra. “Let’s set that up. Make sure they’re getting what they need. And Reg, any objection to treats and goodies, keep their spirits up?”
“No objection,” Reg says.