Page 10 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
JONTY FOUND NO SIGN OFthe Madisons in the dining room. Emily, one of the serving staff, told him they’d finished breakfast thirty minutes ago. Jonty walked up three flights to the top floor and stood by the door of their suite plucking up the courage to knock. He could have phoned the room, but he was hoping he’d get an idea of how near to leaving they were if he did this in person.
The door was opened by Mr Madison, a slightly overweight, jowly guy with a blotchy expression.
“Good morning.” Jonty treated him to his megawatt smile.
The guy smiled back because that was what was supposed to happen. Mr Impossible needed a lesson or three.
“Yes?” the man asked.
“I was checking your stay had been everything you’d hoped for, if there was anything we could have done that might have improved it. The swimming pool a touch warmer? Softer towels? Sewing kit? Animal themed shower caps?”
“It’s been great.”
Jonty caught sight of a bag behind the man. “Oh. Are you checking out? Would you like a hand with your luggage?”
“We’ll be down shortly. We don’t require help.”
“Okay. Sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I’m glad you enjoyed your stay.”
The door closed. Jonty sighed and went down to the floor below. There was a room at the end of the corridor where the cleaners kept their supplies and the group were gathered there with their carts about to start work.
“Hi, Jonty.” Maria smiled at him.
Most of the hotel staff weren’t British. Maria was from Italy and in the UK for a few months to improve her English. Jonty was helping her.
“Morning, Maria. I have a guy downstairs who wants to check in early. The guests in Wave say they’re almost ready to leave. Do you think you could do that suite first, please, when it’s available?”
“No problem.”
Back on the ground floor, Jonty went straight to the lounge. “The suite’s not ready, sir. I’m sorry. The guests haven’t left yet.” The guy couldn’t blame him for that. Though by the expression on his face, it seemed he’d like to.
“Have you been to ask them?”
“Is that a trick question?” Jonty put his hands behind his back and rubbed his fingers together, picking at the skin at the side of his bitten nails.
“Did you go and ask them?”
“I didn’t ask them…directly.”
“Jesus,” the man muttered under his breath. “Can I have breakfast?”
Jonty glanced at the clock. Wayne was going to pitch a fit. Still, he was already in one of his foul moods. This was a chance to show Mr Impossible that he could get some things right. “I’m sure that will be fine, Mr Smith. When you’re ready, the dining room is on the other side of the stairs. I’ll make sure there’s a table set for you.”
As he passed the reception desk, he held up his hand and mouthedfive minutesto Sally-Anne. Not that she was busy, but Jonty was supposed to carry luggage for guests who were checking out.
There was no one eating in the dining room and the waiting staff were laying the tables for lunch. He made for the restaurant manager. “Gregor, there’s another guest for breakfast, please.”
“We finished.”
“I know, but he’d like breakfast. I’ll do the table.”
“Ido table.Youtell Wayne.” Gregor grinned at him. “You can wrap him round your finger.”
Shit.When Jonty walked into the kitchen, Wayne looked straight at him and glared. He was the only gay guy on the staff apart from Jonty, and Jonty had said no when Wayne had pinned him against the wall in the pantry on Wayne’s second day on the job and tried to kiss him. Wayne hadn’t taken rejection well. Several months on and he was still sulking. Though to be fair, he probably wasn’t. He was a miserable git with everyone. He wasn’t a guy to be wrapped around anyone’s finger apart from the major’s.
“Wayne, you’re looking so handsome today.”
“What do you want?”
