Chapter 52: Chapter 52

I am on my phone as I exit the hotel. I already see Jeff standing at the corner, waiting for me.

I am actually talking to my bestfriend who’s been bugging me to call, so that’s what I did.

“Kendra, stop bugging me and start working. Please do me a favor and visit our office after your work,” I request her.

I hear her sigh but eventually, she agrees, “Fine, but tell me what’s going on? Your not-so-boyfriend called Nik and I like a hundred times.”

“Sorry, that’s on me, I didn’t realize my phone was off the whole time,” I explain to K while signaling Jeff to give me some minutes.

“So, you never answered my question, are you good or not?”, K intriguingly asks.

“Both, okay? I have to go, I am late and you know he hates tardiness. Talk to you later,” I say google and hang up. I didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye.

Then I approach Jeff and greet him, “Hi, sorry about that.”

“No problem, so are you ready to go?” he says a little distantly.

My face couldn’t hide my sadness, nor does my mouth. So I straightforwardly open the topic,

“About yesterday, I truly am sorry. It’s my fault. I should have been more careful. I am sorry if I put you in a hotspot.”

He probably senses my sincerity, so he tries to lighten up the mood,

“Well, you are worth it, Ava. What Mr. Sullivan says is true. I like you, a lot,” he smiles sadly.

“How I wish I would have known you first, so I could make you a happy girlfriend. But, I guess you’re already taken,” he utters these words with such loneliness.

I don’t know the right words to say, and I don’t want to give Dee any reason to take it out on Jeff, so I just simply say, “You should’ve run to me, you are already an hour late,”

Both of us chuckle awkwardly, but at least it’s a good comeback.

He leads the way going to the underwater hotel where I will meet Dmitri.

And just like what the maid said earlier, it is only nearby.

When I get out of the car, I couldn’t see anything out of ordinary. In fact, I couldn’t even see where the hotel is.

But when Jeff brings me to the back of this simple building, I am astounded.

I shall call it ‘The Iceberg’ building. A big glass dome replicating the ones in Manor Sullivan emerges from the water, like a tip on the iceberg.

But if you look closely, you can see the whole hotel submerge into the water. The structure and architecture of the hotel are superb.

“Key Largo’s Underwater Hotel,” I blurt out as I continue to be mesmerized by its beauty.

Then Jeff stares at my face for a moment, probably enjoying the jolly side of me, so I jest, “Still, I am more attractive than that hotel, aren’t I?”

He pretends to think for a while and shakes his head, then he says, “Well, I think Key-HUL is beautiful,” then he chuckles.

“Key-HUL?” I curiously ask.

“Yes, that’s how they call that hotel, do you see that small hole on the rooftop? That serves as a keyhole, the main entrance to the building, a simpler one.”

He explains in detail.

“Hmm, not bad, quite catchy, I’m going to use it in my article, thanks, Jeff. So you haven’t answered my question, yet. Aren’t I more attractive?” I kid.

He loses his laugh and passionately looks at me, “You are damn gorgeous, Ava. And these bruises are so damn worth it,” he convincingly utters.

My heart flutters. But I don’t want to get him in trouble, so I divert my attention, “So, shall we?”

“Right, off we go!” he says and leads the way.

We walk towards a platform that connects the port to the rooftop entrance. Once we reach the port, a retractable metal bridge extends and gives us access to the entrance.

From a distance, I wonder how are we going to get in, do we have to slide down, or what. But now I get the picture.

From the keyhole entrance, spiral glass steps are made so the guests can enter the top floor.

Once inside, you can see everything is made of glass, even the elevator that will be you inside the underwater hotel is made of glass: the frame, the button, the handrail, all of it.

Jeff assists me in going down the spiral glass stairs. How gentleman he is!

Once we get in, a lady receptionist welcomes us and gives us some complimentary drinks and free stub at the bar.

“Oh, she’s Mr. Sullivan’s guest,” Jeff explains.

The lady looks at me from head to foot, her pair of eyes can’t hide her annoyance towards me.

I wouldn’t mind all of that, but rolling her eyes at me is a different matter. What is she, a fifth-grader?

It gets me thinking, “Why do I always receive this sort of looks?”

Impatient with the attitude she shows, I confront her, “Is there something wrong with my face, Ms,-”, I remove her name tag from her chest and continue.

“Storm. Jen Storm,” I scowl at her.

They probably think I look nice, but I am actually a bitch. My reaction corners her and she stutters, “Uh, s-sorry, what do you mean, Ma’am?”

I scoff and raise my eyebrows at her, “Don’t make a fool out of me, you just checked me from head to foot, what am I, a product in a quality check?”

Jeff pats my back probably asking me to cool down. But I am sick of those women around Dmitri.

“Uh, no, I just, ahm,” she stutters and keeps in avoiding my gaze.

“No, what? You’re checking me out if I am Dmitri’s girlfriend? How good and hot I am? Speak.” I say in my normal volume but with much conviction.

I keep on nagging sending her a message not to mess with me, “Well, sorry to say, I am one goddamn hot chick.”

I enter the elevator and throw her nametag at her, and then I warn her,

“Surely, you wouldn’t give other guests that kind of treatment, or maybe, I should write about how you receive guests. Will you take the fall?”

Right after she realizes the immaturity she did, she steps inside the elevator and apologizes,

“Miss, I am sorry, I don’t mean that I am just curious about Mr. Sullivan’s woman, that’s why,” she comes up with an unbearable excuse.

“Curious enough to roll your eyes at me?” I raise my voice against this thick-face woman.

When Jeff hears about it, he reprimanded her,

“You did what? Roll your eyes at a guest? Let alone, Mr. Sullivan’s guest? I’ll speak with your supervisor later. What you did is unacceptable in this hotel.”

She just bows her head and starts to sob, “I-I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I truly apologize, Miss.”

“Nevermind, let’s go, Jeff,” I ask him to get on the elevator, and when she’s about to enter, I halt her, “No, I don’t want you here. We can manage.”

And the elevator door closes.