The echo of her heels on slate stone filled the foyer as she made her way up to the large oak desk in the centre. The woman looked at the bell sitting on the red leather inlaid oak table and grinned. Ding! The sound echoed as she pushed the bell. From the back of the foyer came a man swiftly. He stood at the desk looking into the woman’s hazel eyes.
“I was taking care of something in the gardens,” he explained, staring at her.
“I called in earlier,” she said lifting her right leg backward, adjusting the strap on her high heel. “I’m Melanie.”
The man ran his index finger over the bookings to find her name and looked up. “Found you,” he replied retrieving a large book from under the counter. “If you don’t mind just signing yourself in…” he gestured to her.
She smiled as he handed her a quill. “How authentic,” she said mockingly as she signed her name. She noticed the name above hers was smudged out. “I didn’t get your name…” she said, pushing the book back over to him.
“I’m Peter,” he introduced himself, as the man dressed in black came and stood beside him, “and this is Stuart. He will take care of whatever you need.”
Melanie opened her bag, pulling out cash. “I will be staying until my sister has her place up and running,” she explained, putting the cash on the desk.
Peter opened a drawer, pulling out an ornate bronze key. He passed it to Melanie and nodded as he picked up the money. Melanie saw something out of the corner of her eye and looked up at the grand marble staircase as a shadow seemed to disappear into a passageway.
“Will you be taking the lift or the stairs?” Stuart asked as he came from behind the desk to take her luggage. Melanie pulled her bag back as Stuart tried to take it from her.
“I’m fine carrying my own bag,” she insisted, taking a step back.
Stuart nodded. “Very well,” he answered turning towards the lift. “You are on the third floor; best we take the lift,” he instructed.
Melanie quickly responded, “Yes. But I will take the lift alone.”
Peter’s blue eyes widened slightly as they met with Stuart’s. Melanie appeared nervous. She looked at her bag, as she tightened her grip on the handle.
“I will come down later when Tieckey arrives,” she told them warily.
Peter nodded, “Your sister is catching the 2pm flight to the island.”
Melanie’s mind seemed preoccupied. Her lacy peach mini skirt ruffled as she strutted off to the lift. Peter looked at Stuart. “I can’t wait to see how this turns out,” he chuckled, as Melanie climbed into the golden lift.