No Way Out
Rachel
When that jerk of a manager cornered me, my initial impulse was to tell him to go take a hike somewhere, but I couldn't risk him calling the police and ending up in jail without knowing the state of my finances. I knew I had enough money to pay the bill at that cheap hotel, but I was without one of my cards and the mobile app to check my real balance.
I believed I could use all my self-control and charm to get him to release me to go to a bank and talk to my manager. So, I used a seductive tone and approached the manager, a man too tall, utterly ungainly, and excessively ugly, sitting behind an even uglier desk that perfectly matched its surroundings.
"We can agree," I suggested with a fake smile. "I'm sure nobody will come out losing."
The filthy scumbag didn't accept my attempt at a deal and rejected it before even hearing what my proposal was.
"I won't fall for this seduction game, miss," he said. "Either pay the bill for your stay and consumption on our premises, or you'll have to work in our hotel to pay."
"I refuse to work in this third-rate hotel!" I blurted out without thinking. "I mean, I can't work... I don't even know how to do that."
The manager didn't forgive my lapse, and with a clear intention to intimidate me, he took out his cell phone from his pocket, stared at me with a greasy smirk, and threatened me.
"If you prefer, I can call the police to resolve this impasse."
Of course, I would never accept having trouble with the police; that would never be erased from my record and would interfere with my plans. So, it was better to accept that ridiculous offer to pay off the debt.
But not for a single second did it cross my mind that on my first day of work at that hunger-inducing hotel, I would come face to face with Enrico Bianchi. Luckily - I still had some luck left - Enrico was too focused on the waiter settling the dinner bill and didn't even bother to give a second glance to the girl called in to clean up the mess he made, wearing a horrendous outfit, unfortunately, me.
What made my situation a bit less unpleasant was the fact that the job would be short-lived. Since I chose to stay in a more economical place, just one week would be enough to cover the expenses of two days spent in that dump. Of course, it wouldn't be easy, as the idiotic manager was determined to exploit me to the maximum. During the seven days, I would have no days off and work ten hours a day, with only an hour for lunch. During working hours, I could have my meals at the hotel, but outside of that time, I was on my own, which was concerning, considering that my bank account was empty. How that happened, I still didn't know, but I intended to find out as soon as I finished this damn job at the hotel.
I finally finished cleaning up the spilled wine and collecting the shards of the broken glass, trying to do it as efficiently as possible, which was complicated for someone inexperienced in manual labor. I didn't want Enrico to see me in this situation, and to my relief when I finished the cleaning, he had already left with his companion, and I was so nervous and tense that I didn't even notice. I stared towards the door, thinking about the irony of the situation. Even though I didn't want Enrico to see me like this, I also felt terrible because he didn't even recognize me.
Of course, the famous Formula One driver wouldn't pay attention to a simple maid dressed unattractively. My hair must have been a mess due to the heat and the rush in the kitchen preparing meals for the customers. However, something didn't make sense: Enrico had enough money to stay in the best hotels in Seattle. Unless his second visit to this hotel was motivated by his companion, a freckled and unpleasant blonde.
I returned to the kitchen and continued to fulfill my shift at the hotel, a mix of anger and exhaustion taking over me. I was stuck in this mess and couldn't see a way out that wouldn't compromise me or trigger some scandal around my name. At that moment, there was no room to think about the arrogant pilot who, not long ago, was pursuing me and using Sarah as a weapon to hurt me. As if I would surrender to love, only to endure all the consequences that this feeling brings to those who let themselves be deceived by it.
My focus was entirely on my current situation and how to prevent others from finding out what was happening. I wondered what everyone would say if they knew that one of Patrick Mitchell's heirs was working as a simple maid in a lower-class hotel like that. On the other hand, the possibility of the police being called and everyone discovering that I didn't even have the resources to pay for a stay in a cheap hotel like that seemed even more humiliating. I wasn't sure which would be worse and more degrading for me, so I preferred not to risk it with the police issue and, as much as possible, hide from everyone I knew while working at the hotel.
When my shift finally ended, after long ten hours performing various tasks, I changed out of that horrendous and dirty uniform into a pair of jeans from a renowned brand and a simple but expensive T-shirt. All I wanted at that moment was to lie down and sleep.
I closed my eyes, eager to throw myself on the hotel room bed where I had been staying since the previous night when suddenly someone cleared their throat very close to me, making me open my eyes startled.
I was leaving the women's locker room and noticed that the manager was waiting for me in the narrow corridor where several people passed, as it was shift change time. He greeted me as if nothing had happened between us and then said something that truly shocked me.
"Your bags are in the hotel storage," he informed calmly.
"Why would my bags be in the storage and not in my room on the fifth floor, Mr. Barney?" I asked, even more irritated with the man at that moment.
"Unless you intend to work more than the seven days we agreed upon, Miss Mitchell, you have no right to stay in the room where you were installed," he explained with the same irritating smile that I had already noticed was his trademark.
"And where else am I going to stay?" I questioned, putting my hands on my hips and pointing accusingly. "I demand that you bring my belongings back to the room immediately!"
It seems I had said something very amusing because the detestable Mr. Barney let out a thunderous laugh.
"I believe you've lost track of your current position, Miss Mitchell," he said, looking at me from top to bottom as if I were an insignificant insect. "The room is exclusive for guests, and you are just a simple employee here."
— So, where else am I going to stay? I have nowhere to go in Seattle!" I retorted. Desperation took over me because where would I spend the night without money and without friends to help me? I didn't even have a phone to make a call.
"The hotel rooms and suites are reserved only for guests who can pay for them," Barney explained calmly as if he were talking to a child. "And unless I'm mistaken, you can't pay, can you, Miss Mitchell?"
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