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“I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do. It’s not something I advertise.”
She hesitates for a moment. “Have you ever met your birth parents?” she asks slowly.
“No,” I answer. “I have no idea where I came from. No one does. They found me wrapped in a blanket outside the fire department at three days old.”
Her jaw drops. “You were a safe haven baby?”
I nod. “I bounced around from family-to-family for years. Never really settled anywhere. Once I was old enough to get a job, I took the first one I could get just to get out of the house for as long as possible.” I breathe a laugh. “One I could occasionally swipe food from, too. You’d be surprised how many rich people never finish their steaks.”
Paige nods, silently hanging on every word.
“Anyway, I was down in the archives one night. Half-asleep. I didn’t hear the door open.”
“Kingston?”
“He was working late and came down to grab a file or something. He saw me sprawled out on the floor with a few of the previous night’s dinner rolls, which were usually disposed of, but...” I shrug. “I thought I was done for. Fired for sure. Possibly arrested for stealing, trespassing, whatever else he wanted to do me in for...”
I purposefully pause for too long, making Paige’s eyes grow wider with anticipation.
“And?” she finally asks. “What did he do?”
“He took me upstairs to the kitchen and had them make me a cheeseburger with a basket of fries and a chocolate milkshake,” I answer.
She smiles. “That sounds like Kingston.”
“He asked me what I was doing down there,” I continue. “So, I told him. I told him everything, the whole truth, and I hoped for the best. I figured, worst-case scenario, I was back on the street, but at least I had a full belly to walk home on. Instead, he gave me a room.”
“A room?” she repeats in surprise.
“Second floor,” I say. “Right next to the elevators where guests don’t like to be.”
Paige’s eyes shift slightly. “Room 201,” she says.
“It still feels like home to me,” I say with a nod. “Kingston said I could stay for as long as I needed to. I told him I could never afford that, but he just nodded and said that’s fine. I could work it off. The next morning, Fiona showed up with a box of clothes.”
Again, Paige smiles. “Now, that sounds like Fiona.”
“After that, Kingston would stay late sometimes to teach me how to do things around the hotel. General maintenance. Repairs. Eventually, I got out of the kitchen. I joined the maintenance staff, then the housekeepers, and then the front desk. Kingston was behind me the whole way. He never gave up on me.” I pause, my entire adult life flashing before my eyes. “I got my own apartment after a few years, but I kept track of everything Kingston covered for me in that hotel room. All of it. Room fees, meals, every little bottle of water and soda from the minibar. Water and soda because Kingston took all the good stuff with him that first night and wouldn’t let them restock it. I was fifteen.” I pause as Paige chuckles. “A few years ago, I wrote him a check. Every penny. I handed it to him, I shook his hand, and I thanked him for everything he’d done for me. But he never cashed it. Just told me to save it for something special.”
Paige says nothing. She just stares at me for the longest time, never blinking.
I clear my throat. “So, how about you?” I ask as I tap the condensation built up on my bar napkin. “What’s your sob story?”
“My sob story?” she asks.
“Just you and your mom, right?”
“Oh, uh…” She exhales slowly. “Yeah. It’s just us. My dad left when I was a little kid. It was my first memory, actually.”
“That’s rough,” I say.
“No, that’s coarse.” She looks down at her drink. “Rough is finding a letter he wrote to your mother telling her he left because of you.”
I bite down. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s no one’s fault. Some people just... weren’t meant to be parents. You know?”
