Room service, please. (Closed for Steamrunner)

[purplexkitten]

It was her first shift at the hotel. Why she took a job in food and beverage was beyond her. She thought it had to do with her minimal experience working in hospitality that got her stuck as a food and beverage server. This would mean that no only would she work the special events as a server, but that she would deliver room service orders, as well.

She was visibly nervous when she was called to take a rather large tray to one of the rooms for a guest. It looked a little intimidating to her and she worried if she would be able to support the weight of the tray. She'd seen people doing it at various functions she had gone to, but she never realized how large those trays were. She was barely 5'3" tall and rather petite. Surely they wouldn't have hired her if there was any question as to whether or not she could do the job.

Before she left the kitchen to carry the tray to the room, she was given a quick run down of how to best carry one of those large trays. She listened with sincere focus making mental notes of how to pick it up and then place it down. How to balance the items to distribute the weight. She felt a bit better once she was given the quick instructions. At least she would have the trolley to transport the tray to the room. All she had to do was manage to get it inside and on the table without something happening.

"I can do this," she said to herself as she stood outside the guest's door. Picking up the tray and balancing it on her shoulder, she knocked on the door and spoke in a loud voice. "Room Service." Anxiously she waited for the guest to open the door.

 

[Steamrunner]

He'd had a long day. He was tired, looking forward to dinner and whatever was on pay per view. Visiting the regional sites got him out of the office, but once the novelty of a posh hotel wore off, you were just living out of a suitcase. No variety, no friends, just you, a bed, and no one to share it with with.

He checked his watch; his dinner should have been here ages ago. He'd given strict instructions- burger, medium rare; a room temperature bottle of mineral wate; a pitcher of fresh orange juice, no ice; and exactly seven strawberries, with cream on top, for pudding.

While he waited, he prepared for the next day's work. Laid out his clothes, packed his briefcase, so he could retire as soon as he'd eaten. He was just about to call down to reception to chase up his order when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in", he called, moving over to the table. There was a click at the door, and it began to open- but the person on the other side seemed to be having difficulty with the heavy door. He went to help open it, but just as he got there, it flew open- hitting him square in the chest. He staggered back, just as the girl with the tray stumbled through- spilling various items and nearly falling over.

The dust settled; the damage revealed. He was nursing a bruised chest, and his shirt was soaked from the bottle of water, which had fallen over and was threatening to drown the burger. He girl saw at the same time; they both reached for it it ended up rolling across the table towards his briefcase. "Oh well done, now look…" he said, losing patience, reaching for it but too late to stop important papers being soaked. He threw his hands up, "Wonderful!", and began to mop up the water. "Well, at least the food is here… Oh great. I specifically said NO ICE in the juice. Those are ice cubes. In the juice. And can you count to six? There are ten strawberries- I asked for seven because I need all the luck I can get tomorrow. Can't you people follow the simplest instructions? Sort it out, I need to get changed; this is an expensive shirt…"

He felt bad for shouting at her, she looked nervous, maybe her first week on the job- but she clearly needed to learn that you must be careful at all times when dealing with the people you are serving.
He had a reputation for being firm, but fair, at work. Perhaps he'd been too harsh. Maybe she just needed guidance and encouragement; to learn the correct way to behave. He became curious, wondering how she'd handle this situation- would she storm off in a huff? Would she avert her gaze and mumble? Or would she use her brain to come up with a solution that would satisfy her customer…

 

[purplexkitten]

As the door flew open and hit the man in the chest, she gasped and her eyes went wide. She hadn't been expecting him to pull the door open just as she pushed it with the cart. Everything was a blur from there. All she remembered was them grabbing for the bottle and it rolling away from them. The errors on his tray were not her fault, but she wasn't the type to make excuses. Instead, she would do what she could to remedy the situation. Clearly he was in no mood for excuses, anyway.

It was an accident. Surely he wasn't so unreasonable as to not recognize that. That didn't excuse the fact that she had all but destroyed his dinner and that the order was wrong. She was understandably shaken when he went to change his shirt, but it gave her a moment to take a breather and gather her thoughts. Scared, yes, but also resourceful.

Quickly she went to the phone on his bedside table and called the kitchen. When they answered, she spoke calmly, but with an almost authoritative tone. She wasn't sure where it came from. It certainly wasn't one of her personality traits. "Michael, this is Amanda. I'm with the guest in Room 504. His order was wrong and I don't think that is acceptable. Please make sure that someone is aware that his next meal is on me. If something needs replaced, I will be calling back, but pay attention to a guests order next time, please. I don't need to get fired on my first day."

Placing the phone back on the cradle, she grabbed the spoon and scooped the ice from the orange juice and tossing it in the trash, she quickly shoved the extra strawberries in her mouth. Chewing and swallowing quickly so as not to be seen by the guest, in the event he returned. She looked over the tray and everything else seemed to be in order. She only hoped that this would satisfy the guest.

Hearing some shuffling behind her, she turned to face him and looked him in the eyes. "Sir, I apologize for this, this disaster. I have made arrangements for your next meal to be covered and I will happily pay for the dry cleaning of your shirt. You'll see I remedied the tray. I hope that's acceptable." She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at him with a glimmer of hope. "If this is not acceptable to you, Sir, I will make it right in whatever way you see fit."

Looking to his papers in his briefcase which were now bathed in the water, she pointed and added, "I'm off my shift in 15 minutes. If there is anything there that I can retype for you, please allow me to get them in a presentable condition for you, Sir."

 

[Steamrunner]

He was impressed with how she'd handled the situation; older women than her had scurried off the toilets in tears, after a berating from him. There was definitely hope here.
Her offer of making amends seemed sincere, so he picked up the sodden mess and inspected the damage.
"Thank you, that's fine- well done sorting the tray. But as for these- dammit, it's worse than some typing- these photos are ruined. They were the only copies I had- the original files were an a USB stick my assistant left in London, and I've got no way to reprint them. We're promoting certain, shall we say, intimate jewellery; there's no way I'm going to be able to get a model and studio booked in time for tomorrow's presentation. I have the jewellery with me, but it really needs to be worn- it just doesn't make sense by itself. Forget it, I'll have to call it off…"
He paused. A thought flickered into existence. Took form, was dismissed, but refused to go away.
She seemed sincere.
She seemed eager to help.
She seemed… Strong enough.

"…unless; unless you would help me? This is highly irregular, and not something I would normally consider but, well, to put it bluntly this is your fault… Would you model the jewellery? I saw a photography shop outside, I'll get a camera and a light, and you can pose on the bed here? You will be compensated fairly. I know how to take a good photograph, but there will be lots of poses I'll need. If you ever decide on a different career, you'll be able to add the photos to your portfolio".

He could see she was uncertain, and he wasn't surprised. She clearly understood the sort of jewellery and photographs being discussed- but would she agree?
Would she trust him?
Would she give him… what he needed?
He'd be lying if he didn't admit relishing the prospect. It had been a while since he'd last had a good "model". He wondered how far he could push her. She seemed… undisciplined, nervous, but determined. There was an inner strength that she may not have been aware of, but he'd heard her on the phone. He could also tell that she was eager to please, but needed guidance. Affirmation. The more he considered it, the more he hoped she would accept. He could tell she would not meekly acquiesce, but would probably feel the need to act reluctant, and he found the prospect thrilling.
He waited for her response.

 

[purplexkitten]

She watched and listened patiently as he sorted through the mess that was his business files. A frown came over her when she heard that there was nothing she could do as far as typing anything he needed. All she could do was watch as photo after photo was inspected and ruled out as being usable for his meeting. Still listening, she wondered why he couldn't jut have had the originals emailed to him. As far as she could determine, there must have been a reason. She would have been happy to run to a local copy shop for him and pay for them to be printed. Then again, it might be the difference in time zones that would pose a problem. So, instead of appearing argumentative or posing any more of a problem to him, she waited to see if there would be some way she could help him

Then she saw the light bulb moment. Something came over him and it didn't take long for him to reveal to her the thoughts going through is mind. She felt a little uneasy with the suggestion and even more taken back when he reminded her it was her fault. What more could she do? She would have to do as he asked. She couldn't afford to lose the job and she did want to make it right with the guest. "Um," she stammered slightly as the words, "intimate jewelry" played over in her mind. What exactly did that mean? What poses would be required? Give a shrug of her shoulders, she agreed. "Yes, Sir. I can do that for you. And please, I don't expect to be compensated. It's the least I can do to make this right for you." When he mentioned another career at some point and using the photos for her portfolio, she smiled and nodded.

Her nerves were really getting the better of her now. What had she just agreed to? The idea both excited and frightened her, but only slightly. She didn't know what it was about him that made her trust him, but she did. Maybe it was because he was here on business. But in the back of her mind, that didn't mean he still wasn't a psychopath. "Sir, how long do you expect it will take? I'd like to call my roommate and let them know why I'll be late." She didn't have a roommate and didn't have anyone to call, but he didn't know that. If he thought she was letting someone know when to expect her, he would be less likely to try anything untoward with her. "I'll be back when I clock out. Is there anything you want or need me to get for this? Special apparel, jewelry or anything? I'd be happy to go pick some things up, if you need me to. I don't live far from here."

 

[Steamrunner]

He paused; pleased that she had agreed so readily. She definitely showed promise. "Well," he said, flicking through the photos, "normally we just have pictures of the jewellery on the body- you'd basically be a mannequin. I think that would be a waste, though. I think we have an opportunity here. It's going to be a lovely evening, so the lighting should work…" Thoughts rushing through his mind now, each vying for attention, each as tempting as the last. He wanted to see what her limits were, what she would do for him.
He beckoned her to stand before him. Brazenly running his eyes over her body, he brushed her hair aside, tweaked parts of her uniform to straighten them, pulling her blouse taught against her chest, and finishing with an appraisal of her legs and feet.

"Mannequins are so impersonal, it's why we use real models. But the jewellery needs to perform to be appreciated, it needs to shine, to show how it can enhance the body and thus the mind. All marketing bollocks really, but showing it being worn by a real woman, such as yourself, would really sell it. And if those photos were of a woman wearing - and displaying - the jewellery in public; well…"
He allowed a little smile to curl the corner of his mouth.

Returning to her question, he said "Meet me back here when you finish; bring a pair of heels, and a summery dress or a blouse and skirt. We're going for cute, not formal. You can use my shower before we go out, and then we'll do the studio shots when we get back. You won't need underwear, and the jewellery has matching earrings. In fact," and here he allowed himself a small mental pat on the back, "you'd better remove any underwear now so that the strap marks have time to fade".

He indicated his bathroom, then continued. He knew he was moving fast, but the way she'd accepted everything so far gave him confidence that she wouldn't bolt for the door.
"I imagine we'll probably be working quite late; tell your roommate not to wait up. I'll ask reception to arrange for a car to take you home when we're done".

With a dismissive gesture towards the bathroom, he returned to sorting out his briefcase.