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“Hello, Ian,” I say.
He walks over to me. The golden lights above make his dark hair shine a bright brown, and his eyes twinkle with a little sinister delight.
“I didn’t know you were coming today,” he says, putting a little too much emphasis on the word coming.
“It’s an audit,” I say. “Not knowing when we’re going to be here is kind of the idea.”
He glances over my shoulder. “No Graham this time,” he says.
“Just me and Mr. Black.”
“So, I see...”
He smiles, briefly biting his lip.
I clear my throat. “Anyway, I should go get started.”
Ian sidles to the left. “Please do,” he says, his endless smirk curling upward.
I hurry to get as far away from him as possible. My skin doesn’t stop crawling until I reach the elevator. The doors open automatically and I shift to the side to let everyone off first before boarding.
I step in, turn around, and spot Oliver in the lobby with Ian. They shake hands and greet each other like old pals.
My gut churns as I slap the button for sub-level 2.
* * *
Eight suite checks down. Four to go.
I slide my master keycard through the slot on the door to room 1903. The light flashes green and I step inside, eager to finish the last few rooms so I can move on to more pertinent inspections. Luckily, the housekeeping team here in Chicago rivals the one in Las Vegas, meaning I rarely have to dock them for anything. Lauren is as militant with her staff here as Faye is over there.
I run a finger along the headboard of the bed, the top of the dresser, the corners of the television, etc. Barely even a speck of dust. I check it off my list and twist toward the bed. With one yank, I pull the comforter loose. It fights me, tucked in as tightly as possible.
Good.
That’s what I look for.
I pull it the rest of the way down to find the top sheet folded beneath just as tightly and wickedly straight. Not one wrinkle.
Damn, I love the Chicago staff. I guess even creeps like Ian know how to run things.
I check it off my list and move on to the bedside table.
The electronic lock beeps behind me. The door opens as I turn around, and my breath hitches as Oliver steps inside.
“Hey,” he says with a nod.
“Hi,” I say, turning back to my work. “I thought you were checking the lobby.”
“I did.”
“Already?”
“Checked with Barry in security, too. That’s done.” He glances around the half-finished room. “Need some help?”
I inhale to say no, but truthfully, the sooner we get these room checks done, the sooner we can get to the lobby where the real work begins.
Gift shop, kitchen, and spa.
