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"Mr. Montrose, it's good to see you again, sir," Lenny said from behind the Reservation Desk. The young blonde at Mr. Montrose’s side smiled up at Lenny. Brow creased with concern, he acknowledged her with a nod.

 

"Good evening, Lenny. The lady and I would like one of the penthouse suites," Mr. Montrose said.

 

"Uh, unfortunately, sir, the penthouse suites are currently occupied. Would you like one of our deluxe suites, or would you prefer to come back another time?"

 

"A deluxe suite or come back another time? I'm surprised at you, Lenny!" Mr. Montrose's face reddened. "I'm sure you're cognizant of the fact that George Dillon and I are close friends. I wonder – is he aware of how you treat his valued patrons?"

 

Lenny bristled at the implied threat. Fingers slid through a graying temple as he glanced over Mr. Montrose's left shoulder. There Lenny saw Mrs. Montrose and her current pool boy exit the dining room, arm-in-arm. They ambled toward the penthouse elevator, heads bent in quiet conversation.

 

"I beg your pardon, sir. Let me double-check the records.” Lenny made a pretense of searching the reservation list, knowing full well the penthouse suite next to Delia Montrose was unoccupied.

 

A moment later, when Mr. Montrose slammed his fist on the counter and glared, Lenny clenched his teeth. Several hotel guests looked their way. The blonde’s widened eyes darted from her date’s face to Lenny’s. She licked her lips then turned her back on the Reservation Desk and the conversation.

 

Jaw set, Lenny took a moment to weigh the consequences of Mr. and Mrs. Montrose meeting face-to-face with lovers in tow. A loud exhale from Mr. Montrose quickened Lenny’s decision. Clearing his throat, Lenny said, “I was mistaken, sir. Please accept my apology. One of the penthouse suites is available after all."

 

"I thought it might be.” Mr. Montrose exhaled in another loud rush, his expression smug. “You should be more on top of things, Lenny."

 

"Yes sir.” Heat rose up Lenny’s throat and colored his cheeks. Eyes narrowed, he didn’t break eye contact with Mr. Montrose when he said, “The penthouse elevator bell just rang. If you hurry, I'm sure the people boarding will be kind enough to hold the doors open for you and the lady."

 

Seconds later Lenny recognized Mrs. Montrose’s outraged cry echo across the lobby. A slight smile curved his lips.

 

Bio: April Winters’ stories can be found at Linguistic Erosion, The Short Humour Site, and here at Short-Story.Me. Ms. Winters hopes her work will entertain readers and help them forget their troubles, if only for a little while.

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