UNIQUE LOVE (G X G) Completed

CHAPTER: 4

The drive into Michigan lasted twenty-five minutes, a time span in which Zeenia learned nothing else from the file. Catherine pointed out landmarks, but Zeenia paid little attention. She didn't know if she was too tired to care or too weary to give a f**k.

It might be a few months or a few years, that Zeenia would spend in Michigan. She had plenty of time to get acclimated. She knew 'The Royal Sheraton Hotel -Michigan' long before Catherine pointed it out and pulled into its underground parking space. It stood as high as some of the office buildings surrounding it, jutting into the blue sky like the majestic brand it was. Unlike in Manhattan, this branch did not have a fountain in front, nor a train of valets waiting to cater to guests. Instead, it welcomed people with its golden facade and rose bushes around the front doors.

" 'The Mascarenhas Suite,' is inaccessible from the main lobby, so I will show you inside through the back way," Catherine said as she parked the van and got out. Zeenia followed, feet dragging and head limping. This time she did not stop Catherine from taking the suitcase. She went inside and brought out a luggage cart to make the ascent easier.

Still locked behind her sunglasses, Zeenia could not see much from the rear entrance. Catherine led her to a staff elevator and pressed the button for a seemingly random floor. When the doors opened, they were in a corridor so dark that Zeenia had to finally take off her sunglasses.

"This way, please." Catherine pointed out a staircase leading up to a room door. "That is 'The Mascarenhas Suite.' Here is your keycard." She handed Zeenia a small blue card. "I must go and check-in with the front desk. I will return shortly to help you settle in."

Zeenia made a note not to penalize Catherine for leaving her alone with a heavy suitcase and a staircase in front of her.

She made do, however, thanks in part to her fit body, and determination to get s**t done. The suitcase went up step by step, each one bearing the brunt of its colossal weight. She wondered, whose f*****g idea was it to put the family suite out here? Each hotel had a suite reserved for family members passing through, but none had them in the back as if they were dirty movies.

By the time Zeenia got the door open and her stuff inside, she was perspiring profusely enough to warrant taking off her jacket and wiping her forehead with a handkerchief. She surveyed the room, noticing that it was smaller than some of the other suites she stayed in, such as the ones in Miami and New Jersey. Otherwise, the amenities were the same, and so were the decorations including the line of photographs depicting the previous Chairman.

Zeenia dragged her suitcase to the wall beneath her father's photograph. She stared into her father's professional demeanor, lined with authoritative wrinkles and a mole on his chin. "Well, here I am."She preferred the photos of her father back in her flat at Manhattan, the ones showing a man relaxing at home or on vacation with his wife and child. "Your daughter is now the interim Queen of Michigan."

Catherine returned ten minutes later as Zeenia finished up in the bathroom and went to work unpacking some of her personal items. "I have informed the front desk that you are here, although you do not formally start until tomorrow." She stood in the entryway like a tiny sentinel. Zeenia spared her one glance before dropping her undergarments into the top drawer of the wardrobe.

Catherine continued, "Likewise, the kitchen has been made aware and will prepare you a supper to be delivered tonight around seven. If there is anything else you need, please inform the front desk and they will tend to it." She then bowed and prepared to leave.

Zeenia stood before her, staring at the back of her neck. "Is that all you have to do today? Chaperone me in here?"

Catherine straightened herself up and blushed. "Everyone else is busy, so I was available..."

"Go home. I will need you hale when I pass the reins over to you tomorrow night," Zeenia told.

"Yes!" This time with more energy, Catherine thought. "Thank you very much, Ms. Zeenia! I look forward to working with you."

Zeenia said nothing. She just inclined her head.

Once Catherine left and closed the door, Zeenia went to inspect the mini-fridge. She pulled out a bottle of brandy hidden behind the machine. It may have only been the early afternoon, but the  Mascarenhas's were not known for postponing the hard and stiff drink they deserved on a taxing day. Zeenia poured herself a small glass and took it to the window.

Michigan lay before her, wide and bleak. It reminded her of Oakland, except that city had more interesting buildings to look at. She then reminded herself that this wasn't a business trip. This was her home now. She took a sip of her drink. Not only did she have a long road of establishing herself as the competent manager of this hotel, but she also had an uncertain path to forge in her personal life as well. For a split second, the weight of her age and the state of her love life crashed into her. She needed another drink.

After finishing her brandy, Zeenia attempted to relax and unpack. But after her clothes were put away, and a cigarette smoked, she discovered that she was too restless to even lie down for a nap. There was nothing interesting on television. She picked up her cellphone and sent a text to her friends in Manhattan and Oakland. Within fifteen minutes she was back to staring at the bottle of brandy and her pack of cigarettes.

Everyone knew she was here, and yet no one would bother her. 

Zeenia leaped to her feet and recollected her jacket. She slipped into her professional clothing, fixed her hair and make-up, and grabbed her sunglasses. There was work to be done.

She retraced the steps back to the service entrance, taking care not to run into any employees going about their daily business. But the hotel was sleepy in the middle of a weekday. The only staff she saw with regularity were the groundskeeper, watering around the plants, and pruning the roses and daisies.

Once she was around the front corner, she readjusted her sunglasses and inspected what passerby saw. First impressions were everything. She admitted there wasn't much to criticize though. The flowers were healthy and spaced evenly, the front entrance was clean, the doorman stood upright. He welcomed a well-to-do woman entering the hotel with rolling luggage in hand.

Zeenia stood on the sidewalk, letting the gentle breeze numb her lips, as the sun warmed the top of her head. Cars zipped by only a few meters away.

Zeenia approached the doorman. He greeted her with a well-timed, 'Welcome to the hotel' and held the door open for her.

Most of the hotels had similar lobbies, having grey stone check-in counters, with clerks wearing business suits, chairs with straight edges surrounding a fountain, a fireplace roaring beneath a marble mantle. Above Zeenia's head hung a crystal chandelier, advertising the chain's opulence. It almost felt like home.

A clerk currently servicing the well-to-do woman asked Zeenia to wait a moment before returning to explain how the key card worked. Zeenia focused her ears on the way the clerk used a respectable language, in dealing with guests, as if she were a natural. Her voice was deep and a little gruff, with a gentle edge to it. Zeenia liked a front desk clerk with personality. What good was a hotel with no personality? Though some managers preferred their employees to be as forgettable as possible, Zeenia was not interested in working with robots.

While she waited to talk with the clerk, Zeenia walked at a slow pace into the relaxation area. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the painting hanging above the mantle. They were highly impressive.

After some time, she shoved back her sunglasses on her face and returned to the front counter, now empty except for the clerks.

"Welcome to 'The Royal Sheraton Hotel' Maam." The clerk greeted by folding her hands on her stomach.

Zeenia was pleasantly surprised. She was used to front desk clerks looking like supermodels. This woman did not fit the usual standards of beauty. She was on the heavier side, with a plump face, with straight short hair that was chin-length. Her eyes were deep-set, and she wore a business suit that hugged her curves. She was the same woman, who she had heard speaking earlier to one of the guests. Zeenia glance at the name tag, it was 'Charlotte Steven' and nodded.

"I don't suppose I could talk to your manager," Zeenia said sweetly, folding her arms on the counter, and turning up her charm. The same charm even straight women blushed at, although Ms. Charlotte seemed immune.

"I am the desk manager," she said. "Is there something I can help you with? Do you have a reservation?" Most guests would not be able to see it, but Zeenia saw the slight twitch at the edge of Charlotte's lips. Zeenia decided that she was ready for her to start some s**t.

"I was thinking of someone above you. Such as your boss?" Zeenia said.

A lump went down Charlotte's throat. "I am afraid that the general manager is not in today. She will be in tomorrow, so I can leave a message with her."

Panic shot up in Zeenia's spine. "Are you the one in charge? A desk manager? In charge of the whole hotel? Even on the slowest day of the year that was usually a bad idea. Desk managers were promoted from the clerk ranks. Most had never taken a course in hospitality, let alone run a hotel.

"The assistant manager is here, but he is busy at the moment. Can I help you?"

That was more like it, Zeenia thought. No doubt the assistant manager couldn't wait for the real boss to show up. Zeenia reached into her front pocket and produced one of her business cards. The clerk read it and nearly choked on her shock.

"Ma...Mada..."

"Shh." Zeenia held a finger on her lips. "It is a secret. Keep it from everyone while I am here today. Okay?"

Ms. Charlotte nodded, open mouth, with shock.

With a wink, Zeenia slithered off the counter and continued her rounds.