"Yes, you heard me. A suite." Raymond repeated. He knew where she was driving at, but he wanted to give her the benefit of doubt.
"I heard you, yes, but I don't know why you will be booking a suite in this hotel." The woman gave him a look, weighing his looks and outfit with her eyes.
"Why do you think so?" he asked.
"Because you do not look the part. It is obvious enough." She smacked the chewing gum in her mouth, her mouth moving, making her glistening red lips to glow. She looked horrible with a big mole on her chin. Linda, Raymond read off her name tag.
"Who hired you to work at the front desk of this company? Your work here is to be nice to customers irrespective of how the person is dressed." Raymond dipped him hands in his pockets and looked deep into her eyes. They burned with rage.
"Who gave you the audacity to work into my workplace to tell me how to do my job?" she stopped typing off her computer and looked at his outfit. "You look like what came out of a thrift store."
"I did, actually, come out of a thrift store, but that is none of your business. I would like to book a suite." Raymond repeated.
"The rooms are filled," she said immediately. "There is no spare room."
Immediately, another man walked in with a leather briefcase. His suit was an Armani without a crease on it. He was in his fifties and was in shape, portraying this billionaire's look. He smiled at Linda who flirted back.
In front of Raymond, he booked a suite with Linda. "Is there an available room?"
Linda nodded. "Yes, sir. Room 314 is free and ready for use." Maybe it was the cologne he wore that made her swoon.
The man nodded and gave her his black, premium American Express card which she swiped and returned with a receipt and a master card. "The key to your room," she spoke softly.
"Thank you," the man said and walked away from the lobby to his room.
"You were saying?" Raymond got back to her.
"There is no room for someone like you. Do you even have an American Express card?" she smacked her gum harder.
"No, I have Velma. You know what? It doesn't matter, I want to speak to your manager. Now."
"Oh, you can't. and I may ask you to leave now or else I will make the security take you out." Her voice was now stern and she dug out a landline.
"I bet your ass this will be the last day you'll work here or anywhere else in the city," Raymond said. He walked into the luxurious lobby, looking for the manager. As he walked, he couldn't help but check out the hotel that businessmen and women threw thousand—or sometimes, millions—of dollars.
Graffiti made by famous artist covered the wall, and somehow, the smell from the oil paint remained. He stopped a porter who was handling a load of briefcases and winked at him.
"How can I help?" his voice was warm. He flicked his kind, green eyes in Raymond's direction. He was honored.
"I was wondering if I can see the manager of the place."
"Okay. I can take you there or maybe directions would do?"
Raymond nodded. "Yes, please. Just tell me here to go."
"Her office is on this floor, but turn to your right, go down. You will meet a fountain in the middle of the building. Go East of the fountain, then you will find the office. It's boldly tapered on the door. I saw how that woman treated you back there. I apologize on her behalf. Linda can be a bitch." He whispered, smiling warmly at him.
"Thanks, I appreciate," Raymond said. He looked at the man's name on his tag and noted it. Some good turns deserve another. And yes, the bitchy Linda was about to lose her job.
He got to her office and knocked on the door. I was a mahogany door with a gold platter that spelt her name. A sly "come in" pulsated him to open the door, so he twisted the knob and went in.
Raymond was still dressed in his casual clothes, but the woman didn't mind that. She threw a warm smile and led him to his seat. Raymond had expected something cruel, but the woman turned out to be different.
She smiled warmly and treated him princely. "How do I help you, Mr. Kane?"
"Firstly, if you hadn't had the faintest clue that I am the prodigal son of famous business tycoon, Mr. Kane, would you have let me in?" his green eyes were stern, drilling into her blue eyes.
She stuttered. "I mean… this company has guidelines to not ensure people of a lower class to be able to afford here or come near the premises."
Raymond shrugged. "That explains your receptionist at the front desk. She didn't want me here and your company would have lost a hundred thousand dollars this house. I want her fired and make it unbearable for her to get a job anywhere else in this city."
The woman interjected. "But Mr. Kane…"
Raymond shook his head. "No buts. She needs to go."
The manager nodded, bobbing her blonde bob. "Yes, Mr. Kane."
Raymond walked out and booked a suite at the uppermost part of the floor. The hotel was a penthouse, so he had to roof, too. He watched from the balcony as Linda was laid off her job. She carried her bag and her excessive makeup was drenched by her tears.
She didn't look proud like the way she did when she was behind the counter, checking in rich people into the hotel. She looked like a devastated youth going through intense depression.
Raymond smirked and took a sip of his Chardonnay. From where she stood, she saw him, still in his fading attire sipping a drink her annual wager would pay her. She gasped in surprise, her purse falling off her hands. Raymond winked at her and wagged his finger, asking her to come up. She slowly nodded like a wounded pup and walked up the elevator.
The elevator pinged with a person's arrival and soon, Raymond heard a knock on his door. She dropped his glass and walked up to the door, opening it.
There, Linda stood. Her makeup was gone already, and she appeared to look beautiful without it. All pride out of her body, she looked innocent.
"Come in," Raymond said.
She slowly walked in and Raymond closed the door behind her. She immediately went on her knees and held the hem of his trouser. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kane."
Raymond didn't budge. "Well, I guess you know who I am right now if not, you wouldn't be touching my faded jeans. You couldn't even look at me hours ago."
Tears mucked her face. "Because I didn't know that—"
"That I am rich? Yeah, me too. Anyway, that is all in the past." Now, Raymond voice was ridden away with all emotions. His voice was as cold and thin as ice. It could cut through anything and anyone.
"Can I at least get back my job? I need to save more money to complete my clearance for the university. I am in student debt and I have to clear it somehow." His faded jeans were now soaked, giving it a deeper shade of blue.
"You wouldn't have treated a poor man the way you did if you also had financial issues. You see, you have to remove the speck of dust in your eyes without removing the log in another person's." He walked out from her clenched body and now took a seat at the end of his king-sized bed.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Raymond. Please. I can do anything. What do you want me to do? I'll do it. Please, I need my job."
Raymond tsked. "That isn't going to happen. You've lost it already. But you can do something I'd like."
"What?" she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up.
"Go get a glass of wine. We will drink it over."
She walked to the bar and dragged out a bottle of wine with another glass. She got to him and placed it before him. "Sit," he said.
She slowly sat down and smiled seductively at him. Oops, change of plans. Slowly, she slid down the collar of her dress, revealing her bra. She slid down the hand of the bra and smiled at me. "You'd like this? You'll give me my job?" her voice was pleading. Desperate, even.
"Cheap," Raymond said, "but I'll buy it. After all, everyone likes cheap things."