I want your money / That’s / What I want
The lobby was grand. Black columns decorated with gold leaf trim grew out of a white marble floor, my suitcase wheels made almost no noise, gliding along behind me as I approached the desk.
A short Asian woman greeted me. One of those rich places where the staff don’t smile. It’s more honest that way I guess.
“Good morning sir. Here to check in?”
“Yes, I have a reservation under Greene.”
“Just a moment please sir.”
She tapped some keys on her keyboard, the small black machine next to her whirred into life and a white keycard slid out.
“Have you stayed with us before sir?”
This suit I had on must be working. If she had seen me in my clothes from yesterday she wouldn’t have needed to ask that question.
“No, I have not.” I flashed a shark smile.
“Very well, you are in room 427. It is on the fourth floor, the elevator is just to your right,” she motioned to the black elevator doors behind one of the columns. “This is your keycard,” she tapped the white plastic card, her eyes were hazel and soft. “You will need to swipe it to use the elevator and then again to access your room. Please do not lose it as there is a fifteen dollar charge for replacements, which will be added to your bill at the end of your stay. Breakfast will be served in the restaurant” – another point, this time to the glass doors to the right of the reception desk – “between six and nine thirty tomorrow morning. The bar closes at eleven pm, however the front desk will be staffed all night should you require anything else.” She did not smile at me. She was being rude. It was sexy.
“Thank you” – a glance at her chest, small pert breasts framed in an oversized bra cup, red text on a white plastic gold framed name badge – “Elaine.” My eyes stayed on her chest and I felt my leer being returned with a blush. Women – so fucking predictable.