“Is everything okay?” she asked. My headache was finally gone, but no, everything was pretty fucked up. Standing there with her looking at me I felt like she knew somehow, and it felt like shit. I nodded and turned my back to her, heading for the elevator to take me up to my room.
Once I got inside, I went straight for the bed where I had my kit. I picked it up, suddenly torn about shooting up again. I was in such an awesome hotel, this place was way too
nice to come and do shit like this. The staff seemed like really good people. They deserved guests who weren’t coming here to get high.
I started opening it up before I stopped and dropped it on the bed again. I left the room. If it was far away from me, I wouldn’t feel like using. I tried to look for that menu to make a food order to the room. I felt like the drugs were loud in the other room. I could feel them in there.
I shut my eyes knowing I’d already lost. I was flat on my back on the bed with a needle in my arm before I even made my food order.
Chapter Six
Abby
Because of the schedule I had at the hotel, weeks more or less bled into each other. That meant the summer felt like one big stretch of activity. Parties, people, good times. It could get pretty busy, with so many people and so many different things happening at once, but I loved it. I thrived on it.
Every day was different, though, so it didn't get routine or boring. I felt like people were their best selves when they came here. Everyone seemed to always be happy. I didn't know what it was – the weather, all the good food, the professionalism and warmth of the Four Seasons staff? Everything combined? Whatever it was, it made my job that much easier since everyone seemed just as pleased to be here as I was to have them.
That was the thing about hotels. Whether people were there just for their honeymoon or were there for a month, they were all living there. It was their home for as long as they were there. A home but better because not everyone had twenty-four-hour concierge and all the amenities of an award-winning, five-star resort at their disposal when they were at their real homes.
I worked at the hotel, so I knew how much work went into keeping everything running. It would probably surprise a lot of people how demanding the hospitality industry was. It was all love, though. It could be hard, but ultimately, it was rewarding, especially if you liked working with people. It was a lot of fun, too. Every time there was a luau, I got to go, too.
It was just after noon and a few people had already come by the front desk or called to ask for more information about the luau happening that night. I was excited for the first one of the season. I'd been to enough at the hotel and just held by friends to know how they went, but for many people, it was going to be their first experience of Hawai'ian culture, and that made me excited.
Makani got off the phone beside me after answering questions to a hotel guest about just that before she turned and looked at me.
"Another one?"
"Yeah. The turn out's going to be pretty great tonight."
"Sounds like it," I said. Makani frowned at me.
"Are you all right? Why don't you sound excited? You usually love these things."
"I do. I was just thinking about something. Well, actually someone."
"Who? No, wait. Let me guess. Our esteemed guest in the Hulopoe suite?" she said knowingly. I nodded.
"I was just thinking about whether he'd show up or not."
"Have you seen him since he checked in?"
"Not really. Just in passing. I know it's a big place, but nobody else really has, either. He was at the bar a couple times the day after he checked in, but that's it. It's like he's boarded himself in there. He hasn't done anything here on the grounds. He doesn't even come out of there for his meals. He orders in."
"We don't offer in-room dining so the guests don't use it."
"You know what I mean, Makani," I sighed.
"I don't. He's on vacation. He probably came here so he could relax and people do that in different ways. He has television, Wi-Fi, food up there. He doesn't really need to leave if he doesn't want to. Maybe snorkeling and hiking aren't his idea of fun."
"So he came here to look at the inside of his suite for three months?" I asked. She shrugged.
"Maybe that's exactly what he did."
"I don't think he's okay," I admitted.
"Why? Because he's a person who enjoys his own company?"
"I just think maybe something's wrong. It's been a week. Even if people don't end up doing anything while they're here, they'll at least come out of their rooms."