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Feeling panicked he might need it in case of an emergency, I considered hurrying over to the hotel where he worked and trying to find him. If it were any other day, I would’ve gone, but that day, I was cleaning for Mrs Reynolds, and she’d tear me a new one if I started late.
Deciding my best option was to walk to the hotel and find Shay during my lunch hour, I sighed and placed his phone in my bag for safekeeping. The screen was blank, and I didn’t know his pin code. If I did, I might’ve been able to call his dad or his cousin, Rhys, to let them know I had his phone. But it was probably for the best I didn’t have the pin. That way, Shay would know I hadn’t tried to snoop in his messages. Not that I would have anyway.
I got to work, starting on the bathrooms, and I was about to move onto the kitchen when Mrs Reynolds appeared in the hallway. She wore pressed pants and a pale pink blouse, her hair looking fresh and voluminous like she’d just been to the salon. I tensed when I saw her, just as I always did. Any interaction with Mrs Reynolds had the potential to bruise my confidence and ruin my day.
“Maggie, there you are,” she said, and I prepared myself for possible criticism or a dressing down. To my relief, it never came.
“I’m hosting a surprise party for Clark’s fortieth birthday here at the house this month. It’s going to be a large affair, and I was hoping you’d be free to work that night? I thought it a good idea to have a cleaner on hand to keep everything tidy during the party. The guest list has a few famous names, so I need everything to be just perfect.”
Clark was her husband. As far as I knew, he was an investment banker and had a lot of influential friends. “Yes, I can make sure I’m available. Just let me know the date and times.”
Mrs Reynolds beamed. “You’re a doll. I’ll text you the details.”
With that, she left, her expensive high heels clicking as she went. It was a rare occasion Mrs Reynolds was in a good mood. She must’ve had high hopes for the birthday party. Well, of course, she did. Sariah Reynolds loved nothing more than being able to show off her beautiful home to esteemed guests.
I got back to cleaning, then hurried in the direction of the Balfe Hotel at lunch. I only had an hour to spare, but the hotel was a short walk away, so I knew I’d be able to get there and back quickly.
It was windy out and my hair was completely frizzed up by the time I reached the hotel. When I arrived, I went to the front desk, which was probably a bad idea because the smartly dressed receptionist gave me a sharp look up and down as I approached. I knew it was a five-star establishment, and I didn’t look like their regular clientele in my cheap coat and worn shoes. Still, there was no need for him to look at me like he just smelled something bad.
It brought on an unpleasant feeling—the same feeling I’d get as a child when Mam never bothered to wash my clothes, and I had to go to school in dirty ones. Other kids would look at me like I was unclean and refuse to play with me out in the yard during breaks.
“Hi,” I said to him, shoving down the bad memory. I wasn’t a child anymore, and I refused to let anyone look down on me. So, I plastered on a polite smile in the face of his obvious disdain and continued, “I’m looking for Shay Riordan. He works here as a security guard.”
The receptionist, whose name tag read “Lloyd,” narrowed his gaze. “I don’t know anyone here by that name.”
“Oh,” I replied, frowning and glancing around, momentarily wondering if I’d gotten the wrong place. There were a bunch of hotels in the neighbourhood. A middle-aged couple came to stand behind me, waiting to be checked in.
“If you don’t mind, there are guests waiting for my assistance,” Lloyd said, motioning to the couple.
“Are you certain he doesn’t work here?” I asked. “He’s tall with dark brown hair.”
Lloyd exhaled impatiently, which somehow worked to make me feel like an unimportant nuisance. “As I said, I don’t know who that is. Now, please step aside, Miss.”
“I think she wants the guy Rhys Doyle hired,” one of the other receptionists, who was standing at the other end of long the desk, said. “You know …” she trailed off, eyeing Lloyd meaningfully. “The one who doesn’t speak.”
Lloyd’s gaze widened as he turned back to me. “Well, you could’ve just said you were looking for the mute security guard. That would’ve been far more helpful,” he sniped, and my expression flattened. I didn’t like him talking about Shay so dismissively.
