Sweetest Kisses - Ella Goode
“Smooth?” There is a soft knock on my door. I sit up, realizing I must have dozed off as Violet pokes her curly blond head into my office. I only meant to lie down for a minute. It is a Friday night and as always we are going to be busy. The VIPs still haven’t arrived and it has been one thing after another today. Some days go well and others are a disaster. I never know what situations will arise but I am always equipped to deal with whatever is thrown at me.
“I’m up,” I say, trying to sound a little more chipper than I feel. I’m not sure what is wrong with me these last few days. I have been in a weird funk and I can't shake it. It could be because the resort has been bought out by a new company. No changes have been made and current staff is to stay in place. The new company consists of a bunch of different resorts all over the world. Although the contract states that they keep the current employees, I know I have to continue to put my best foot forward.
There is no time now to try to figure out if that is what has me in a funk or not. Generally my own issues have to be put to the side because I am too busy fixing everyone else’s. My nickname wasn’t earned solely on it being my last name. Fixing guests’ issues and making sure everyone has a pleasant experience is my top priority.
“There are two old ladies out in the lobby area and-” She makes a scrunched-up face. Drunk is my first thought. Of course they are drunk. It’s a Friday night at a resort. “Someone complained.” She rolls her eyes. I stand. God forbid two older women have a good time on their vacation. People need to mind their own business. Yet I can’t say that. It’s my job to go and check it out for myself. Whoever made the complaint could be watching. Although I know the old ladies are only trying to have a good time, I have to make each of my guests feel as if their issue is important to me.
“You have to please them all,” I say against the normal you can’t please them all. It’s my motto. The one I try and live by around here. I am pretty good at it. “I’ll be right out.”
She nods, giving me a soft smile while holding her tongue that I need more sleep.
“You won’t miss them,” she adds before slipping back from my small corner office. I spend more time sleeping here than in my actual place. To me it really is no different. I live in one of the manager apartments here on site. It was part of why I took the job. I not only needed a job but a place to live. They offered both to me and I’ve spent the last year trying to make myself irreplaceable. I was fresh out of hospitality school and on a mission to carve my own path. One that would make my name recognizable in the industry. To be honest, I think I enjoy being needed. To feel like I am doing something right, that I belong. I don’t want to lose my footing with the resort being owned by someone new.
I’ve always been good at reading a room. I have a knack for how to handle people. Between that and having the last name Smooth, it’s all everyone around here calls me. I’ve climbed the ladder quickly. There isn’t a job title available that fits my job description. Everyone has begun to call me Smooth because that basically sums up what I do on a daily basis. I calm people down and get situations under control. The resort manager began calling me Smooth a few months after I started here, referencing my interactions with guests.
I work late afternoons and evenings. It’s peak time for people to get the most out of control. It is a resort, after all. I also always make sure I am here when VIPs arrive, and a big group is coming in tonight. This morning has brought on a variety of things on its own. I’m currently running on no sleep.
I slip my wedges on before running my hands through my long blond hair and straightening my skirt. I find it easier to deal with guests when they feel as though you fit in