Page 4 of Blue Eyes & Paris Vibes

Mr.Rudeisstandingat the reception, hands clutching the edge of the counter, red in the face and all but screaming at the poor girl working behind it. I bet she was never more grateful for the glass panel separating her from the guests.

“How the hell could this happen? What idiot made your bookings?” He raises his voice more and more, running his hand through his hair and I fear my eyes are going to pop out of my head from rolling them too hard. Figures that a man who likes to run over women wouldn’t be the calm and collected type.

Other than him, the lobby is almost empty, so at least I’m the only other person he’s disturbing. Now I know why the security guard outside continues to stare inside, though. He’s tall, buff and scowls, arms crossed in front of his chest and more than ready to escort Mr. Rude outside.

“Bonjour, madame.” Another worker appears behind the neighboring counter and smiles at me like someone is holding a gun to his back.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” I greet him with a smile on my face and step forward to hand him my passport. “A reservation under ‘Hayes’. I believe my brother has called about the change of guest?”

“Yes, madame, of course.” His smile slightly relaxes as he types in my name and pulls up the booking.

Meanwhile, I watch Mr. Rude from the corner of my eye. He is continuously spouting curses into his phone, starting to pace in front of the counter.

The poor girl on the other side looks like she’s about to cry, staring at her screen and trying to find a solution for whatever is going on. I feel so sorry for her. She looks so rattled, her face red and blinking hard.

“Madame,” the man who’s handling my check-in, André according to his nametag, says carefully, his eyes darting from me to the asshole to my left. “There is a small problem with your room.”

“Oh no.” I direct my attention back to him, clutching the handle of my suitcase a little tighter. He’s not going to tell me that I’ll have to find another hotel, is he? “What is it?”

“I am afraid we have overbooked your room category,” he says and grimaces, probably expecting me to blow up like the guy next to me. My heart drops. I knew it. Just my luck. How the hell am I going to find another hotel on such short notice?

“I am very sorry, there appears to have been a mix-up with our booking partner. Would you be willing to change to another room category?”

I sigh in relief. Thank God.

“Of course, if it ends up being a cheaper room, the difference will be refunded. I have to check which rooms are available first,” he adds, and I nod.

“Sure, that’s fine. Go ahead.” I give him a reassuring smile and he types some more into his computer. My brother is a fan of the fine things in life, so I’m sure I’ll be alright, even with a lower category than he booked.

“Again, I am very sorry.”

“It’s no problem. Really, don’t worry about it. I understand that this is out of your hands.” Contrary to a certain guy right next to me. Mr. Rude has hung up his phone and is once more loudly talking to the poor girl.

“Here you go, Madame.” He hands me back my passport and I rummage through my bag to find my wallet.

“Thank you, André.”

“Your room has already been paid for, but I have now upgraded you from our classic room to our suite with a view of the Eiffel tower and balcony. It’s on the seventh floor. Go right when you step out of the elevator and you will find your room at the very end of the hallway. I wish you a pleasant stay at our hotel. My associate will have your room key ready shortly.”

The what now? My eyes widen and my face breaks into a smile. It’s the first time I’m getting upgraded and oh my God, Max is going to hate me when I tell him!

“Thank you so much.” I take the brochures and documents he puts on the counter. Then he turns to the poor employee still subjected to the guy's fit of temper. I can't quite read her nametag, maybe June? He whispers something to her in French and she shoots him a grateful smile before switching places with him.

“Hello, Madame, I will get your room key ready for you, Madame,” she says sweetly, and I can’t help but grin. Julia. That’s what her name tag says.

She still seems rattled and while typing, she blinks away some tears. Poor girl.

A part of me feels vindicated that I’m not the only one whose day Mr. Rude ruined, but working a hotel reception must be a thankless job as it is, even without asshats like the guy next to me barging in. But André… he has a glint in his eye that makes me subtly listen in to their conversation while Julia types away to get my room key ready.

“Good day, Mr. Walker. My name is André and I am the manager. I will be taking over from my employee. What appears to be the problem?”

“One of your incompetent employees overbooked my fucking room category,” he spits and André nods in understanding, still with that pleasant yet eerily dead smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I understand. Luckily, a room in your category hasjustfreed up.” Julia whips her head around to look at him shocked and André gives her a subtle wink.

“Oh,nowit’s free? Then what was the problem five minutes ago? Maybe invest in some training before wasting people’s time.”

“It just freed up because the kind madame to your left has agreed to accept our upgrade to a suite with a view, freeing up the room under her name for you.” Mr. Rude, or Walker as I’d just learned by eavesdropping, whips his head around and glares at me, while I do my best to once again look anywhere but him. As much as I want to, and as much as I need to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from breaking into laughter, I’m not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. Yet.

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