That's Not Room Service

BLAKE

Just my luck, I missed the last flight to California yesterday while I was going over some numbers with Dad, so I was stuck spending the night in Florida after all. At least our property here made a mean pancake.

Tomorrow I would go back to healthy choices, but today I wanted my pancakes. I stretched out on the king-sized bed and reached for the phone to call room service before I’d even opened my eyes. A definite advantage to practically living in hotels was never having to worry about fixing your own breakfast.

Once my food was ordered, I rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes as I headed to the bathroom. I was useless before a shower in the mornings.

This hotel property, one of the three we had in Florida, was the first hotel dad had owned. It was an older building than most of the rest, but it had been redone to fit in with the comfortable modernist feel of the chain as a whole. Dad’s vision was to create beautiful hotels with every luxury he could afford to put in them, while retaining a homey, comfortable environment.

What he wanted had been difficult to achieve in decorating the spaces, but he searched for an interior designer until he found someone who could and did make it happen. The room I favored in the Florida property was on the top floor and faced away from the ocean. It was one of the smaller rooms, but I was only one guy so it was more than big enough for me.

Blackout curtains hung in front of a wall of windows with a small lounge and dining area in front of them. I grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and downed it, tossing it in the trash as I turned on the shower.

By the time I was done brushing my teeth, steam was pouring out of the shower. I stepped into the hot water and hung my head forward to get the steady stream pounding onto my shoulders. I definitely needed a massage after my go-around with Danny yesterday, but I didn’t have time to get one now, so the shower was going to have to do.

I rolled my head from side to side, stretching my muscles as the water beat down on them. Dealing with Danny made me tense as shit. I tried everything to get an immediate flight out, but Dad intervened. He still needed to go over some stuff with me and Danny insisted on staying as well.

My brother was the public face of the company, and as the eldest son, he would be handed the keys to the kingdom someday. I didn’t want the keys, I only wanted to do what I had to do. Let him deal with the public, the marketing, and people in general.

It only pissed me off when he insisted on sticking his nose into my business on the pretense of needing to know what was going on company-wide. His staying with me and dad yesterday had nothing to do with needing to know what was going on. He was determined to promote his friend and insistent I screwed up the numbers, despite being shown the evidence that I hadn’t.

Fuck him. Our father was on board with the investigation into the New York manager. Danny could launch his internal promotional campaign. By the time it ran its course, Dustin would be long gone and whoever deserved the next promotion would get it. It was the least of my worries.

The water worked its magic on my tense muscles, but it wasn’t enough. I briefly considered jerking off to help me relax, but my pancakes would be delivered too soon. Reaching the point of no return only to have a waiter yell, ‘Room Service!” would ruin it for me.

As I stepped out of the shower, I heard a knock at my door. Room service, exactly as I thought. “Just a minute!”

My suit for the day was already out of its bag and hanging by itself on the rail in the closet. I pulled on my pants and was buttoning my shirt as I went to get the door. It could only be room service waiting on the other side, so I wasn’t too worried about shoes or my jacket.

My mouth watering for my breakfast, I yanked open the door as I fastened the last button on my cuff. To my surprise, it was my father standing on the other side of the door, not a waiter with my breakfast.

“Blake, I’m glad I caught you.”

He brushed past me into the room, not stopping until he reached the windows. With his back still facing me, he made a vague gesture at the view. “You know there are ocean front rooms available.”

“I prefer this,” I told him, walking over to the coffee station in the room. Dad didn’t love the instant stuff, but at least we carried a pretty decent instant brand in all our rooms. He was still facing the window when he started talking.

“I know you prefer flying under the radar, but getting a nice room isn’t a crime.” The glorious smell of coffee permeated my nostrils when I added water to the mugs. Hello caffeine my old friend.

I looked around the room while I stirred. “This is a nice room.”

“They are all nice, I suppose. I just can’t help feeling you might like it here more if you stayed in one of the penthouses.” When he finally turned around to face me, he seemed tired.

“It’s not the room, Dad. The room is fine. What’s really going on?” It took a lot to wear my dad down, but something was weighing on him.