One Fine Day. Teresa Morgan F.
reception desk for her to finish with a customer, before Ruby spoke, “Hi, Lydia, I want you to meet my brother, Stuart.” Steve smiled at Lydia, adjusting his glasses. “He’s joining our team.”
“Hello, Lydia.” Steve shook Lydia’s hand, more delicately than the way he’d grasped Callum’s. So she was the owner of the voice at the end of the phone the other day, and she turned out to be pretty and young, not old-enough-to-be-his-mother as he feared. He would enjoy working here.
Lydia frowned. The penny had obviously dropped for her too. “You said you’re name was Steve.”
“Ha, yes, I did,” – had he? God, he had – “well, I was worried you were going to ruin the surprise, so I made up a name…”
For a moment Lydia eyed him suspiciously, then nodded. “I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“I couldn’t be sure. And so by giving you the wrong name, if you had said anything it wouldn’t have rung true for Ruby.” Steve anxiously chuckled. Oh, God this was awkward. Luckily, the telephone started ringing – saved by the bell! – and so Lydia gave a delicate, apologetic smile, tucking strands of blonde hair behind her ear and answered it, talking into the microphone on her headset. She had layered, bobbed blonde hair. She was probably Ruby’s age. Steve noticed there were no rings on her left hand either. It had become a habit, checking out for wedding rings, as he’d been surprised at how many supposedly happily married women had thrown themselves at him as his fame increased.
“I know you’re predominantly going to work in the bar, but sometimes you will need to help out on the reception desk, so I’m going to leave you with Lydia for a bit first.”
Steve stopped studying Lydia – she was pretty – drawing his attention back to Ruby, and nodded.
“The fastest way to learn reception is when it’s busiest.”
The hotel was buzzing with more people around now. Everyone had woken up, had breakfast and were checking out, or getting on with their business.
Not for the first time that day did Steve feel the anxiety crawl up his back. How hard could it all be?
“Lydia, could you please show Stuart the ropes as occasionally he’ll need to help you out.” Ruby turned her attention to Steve, smiling. “And when you’re ready, Stuart, you can take a call, but Lydia will listen in and help you if you get stuck.”
Lydia nodded. “Don’t look so nervous, you’ll be fine.”
He took a deep breath. Man up, Steve, it’s a telephone, not a bomb.
“I’ll come get you later, to show you the bar,” Ruby said. Actually, was she smirking at him, enjoying this?
Lydia tapped him, to get his attention. “Listen and watch me. We have to man the phone and deal with customer requests face to face.” She adjusted her headset, the phone softly rang, and she answered the call. Steve listened carefully to her, the patient tone she took with the customer. Her voice could melt butter, warming and gentle. He noticed the pad in front of her where she’d scribble notes while listening, or occasionally doodle. Little cherub like faces. Happy, sad or mischievous. All incredibly cute. As she spoke, she flicked through the computer system to check hotel availability.
An hour flew quickly as he watched and listened to Lydia and helped her where he could.
“It’s time for my break, so let’s get a cuppa, then you can have a go answering the phone and dealing with the customers who come to the desk.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” Steve’s nerves were real. Why so much fear over a telephone? It’s not like the people at the other end could reach down and throttle him if he got things wrong. They certainly wouldn’t recognise him.
“This is Maxine, she also works on reception.”
“Hello,” Steve said, nodding friendly. Maxine was in her early fifties, with short brown hair. As she smiled the creases in her face deepened. She faintly smelled of cigarette smoke mingled with her perfume. He wouldn’t need to act too dorky around Maxine, but then would he? What was he thinking? He couldn’t let anyone realise who he was, not just the pretty women who were potential love interests. He had to stay on the ball and not let this act slip. He had to convince everyone. One word of who he really was and the game would be over. He’d be back in Hollywood before you could say shooting stars.
Lydia led Steve down the narrow staff corridor, although he was starting to learn his way around. He had a good sense of direction, and the hotel wasn’t huge.
“The staff room,” Lydia said, entering, the very small room. “I know it’s a bit of a joke.” It contained two tables with orange plastic chairs tucked underneath them and a vending machine. A fridge sat under the counter, while the basic kitchen appliances sat on top. Lydia continued, “This is where you come to take all your breaks. Do you want anything to eat?” Lydia asked, slotting coins into the vending machine and pressing the button to retrieve some biscuits.
“No, I’m all right thanks.”
“I’ll share my biscuits. Tea?”
“Yes please.”
Lydia showed him where the tea and coffee was, with an urn full of hot water. “If you want posher coffees, you have to pay for them.” She gestured to a machine where you could push buttons for cappuccinos, lattes etc. But they were powered milk variety and not the real thing in Steve’s opinion. Tea would be just fine.
“Sugar?”
Steve grinned. “No, I’m sweet enough as I am.”
Lydia giggled and he watched her cheeks redden as she concentrated on adding milk and removing the teabag, and not making eye contact with him.
Maybe he should lay off the flirting. It was only the first day. He was a natural charmer though, his mum had always said so. From about the age of three, he’d had old ladies eating out the palm of his hand. He only had to look at his teachers doe-eyed when he’d been cheeky and he’d get away with it. For now he’d turn down his charm-o-meter.
As they only had fifteen minutes, Lydia and Steve didn’t get to talk much. She’d run through the basic chit-chat when two people don’t really know one another and don’t know what to say. Steve had decided to let her talk, and listen. She’d only worked for the hotel a year. It wasn’t a career move, just a job to pay the bills and allow her to live. She lacked confidence, but it could have been an element of shyness, Steve decided, plus he was a stranger. Maybe he’d get her to open up more with time.
Lydia suddenly glanced up at the clock. “Oh, we better be getting back.”
They swallowed down the last of their drinks, and pushed the orange chairs with a scrape under the table. Lydia took both mugs and placed them on a rack with other dirty dishes.
Back behind the reception desk, Lydia handed Steve one of the two headsets. He grinned, realising he was still nervous. She giggled.
“It’s not that bad, honest,” she said.
He was actually going to do this. Actually answer the phone and deal with queries, and serve any customers who came to the desk. Was he having an early midlife crisis – or something worse? His life was in LA, making movies…
Think Clark Kent…trying to find Lois.
He felt more nervous than being butt naked in front of a film crew doing a love scene. This shirt was doing nothing for him. He felt hot and awkward. The heating in this hotel needed turning down. He wanted air. In fact, he could just bolt. He didn’t really need to do this job, he wasn’t even getting paid. He could go back to LA…His comfort zone.
He’d find someone eventually, amongst the gold diggers. Not.
Running away, because he had the money to do so, was not an option. He wasn’t a coward, he chided himself. If he wanted to find someone to love…and who loved him, he did need to try this. He had nothing to lose. If the press got wind, he