"This will be your locker. You can put your stuff inside and lock it so it's safe. You can keep your phone in you but I trust you have the skills to know when it's inappropriate to use it." I nod and Kate continues.
"What size do you wear, Bella? A small?" Kate sorts through stacked, plastic packages.
"Yeah." I used to be a medium, but that was years ago.
"I have three sets here, small. Once you get a more permanent position, these will have to do. Is that okay?" I nod. I can use the laundromat, I do that all the time.
I look at the uniform I'll be wearing. It's pretty actually. A T-shirt style shirt and matching pants in cotton material, black with white trims. It's tasteful, not over-the-top like you see sometimes.
"Change and meet me in my office. I'll print out a work sheet for you."
I drop my clothes on the bottom of the locker and pull the shirt over my head. It's a modest V-neck that still looks flattering without being too flashy. The pants fit me well, the white stripe on the side of the legs give it a sporty look. My feet step back into my black Converse. I look at myself in the mirror here. My hair looks wild and playful and my liner is thick, sixties style. I slather some more lipgloss on my lips and smooth the fabric of my pants over my ass, glad to see I don't have any panty lines that are too visible.
"These are your rooms this week." Kate hands me an A4. Some rooms have just the check-in time, where I have to do everything. The other, occupied rooms have just descriptions of more specific needs such as extra towels, or refilling the minibar.
I swallow.
"Kate?" I ask, feeling pathetic. She looks up at me from her computer screen.
"I don't know if Rose told you, but I'm a recovering, ah— alcoholic." Saying the words makes me sick. "I don't know if I can handle stocking liquor." My voice gets quiet. Kate stands and puts two hands on my shoulders.
"It's okay, Bella. I know. I just want you to tell me when it gets hard on you, okay? Just come find me if anything feels too much. Promise?"
I nod.
"Good. You'll do great." I smile at her enthusiasm.
I get started in the rooms after I helped prepare the breakfast lounge downstairs. The cleaning cart has all the essentials, and there's a stock room on every floor — very convenient.
Once I get the hang of everything, I come up with a system for myself. By the time I get to the fourth room, I'm all done within half an hour.
The rooms that are already occupied take me even less time, since it's just a quick little fresh-up to restock the toilet paper, coffee utensils and towels.
I'm on my first break when I see the guy with the braid again.
"Not Bree, hi!" He's unloading a few boxes of eggs now.
"Hi."
"Forgot to drop something off?" I ask, wishing I could just smoke in peace.
"Yes, I didn't see the second page of that order. Got left behind. Been driving around like a mad man all morning." His smile is dazzlingly white. He eyes me with interest, looking me over.
"Hmm okay." I don't feel the need to socialize.
"So what is your name?"
Oh my God.
My heart sinks.
It is him? My killer? He's way too interested.
"Kinda running behind on my work, so I gotta go."
I stump my cigarette with my shoe and rush back inside, hopping on the elevator back to the fourth floor. I catch my breath in the stockroom, grabbing little shampoos as I pretend to be useful.