Room Service
Chapter 3
Lily isn't prepared for the vehemence of Mary's greeting when she walks into The Golden Stag on Sunday. As soon as the brunette straightens up from behind the desk, her brown eyes widen theatrically at the sight of Lily making her way down the lobby with a usual tumbler of coffee in hand. The reaction is unexpected enough to send her feet almost stuttering against the immaculate floors in alarm, pumps squeaking at the pause noisily.
"Oh, thank God, you're finally here!" Mary practically sobs, throwing her arms around Lily's neck once she's behind the counter. "I've been going insane all day."
"What happened? Is everything okay?" she asks, pulling back and quickly pinning her nametag to her black button-down blouse.
"No! Not okay. I ran into the hottest fucking bloke I've ever seen in my life today, Lily. I kid you not, he's like bloody Adonis brought to life, or something." She seems to dissolve into hysterics just at the recollection. "There I was, walking down the hallway on the second floor, because the idiot in 203 left his key inside the room for the third time this week—what a thick ponce, I swear—and suddenly, this… this man steps out from 208, with the smuggest fucking grin on his face—"
"Sirius Black." Lily nods with a laugh. "Yes, I'm familiar. Black hair, grey eyes. Very pretty."
Mary rounds on her with a betrayed gasp. "And you didn't tell me about him?!"
"Keep it in your pants, Mare. You know you can't do anything about it, anyway."
"And why not? A good shag here and there never hurt anyone. Apart from those who got cheated on, obviously."
"Lower your voice," she chuckles softly, shoulders relaxing now that she knows there's no real calamity to brace against. "You can't, because he's a guest, and I'm sure there are rules about that sort of thing, aren't there? Plus, he's the owner's son."
"What? No, he isn't. That's James Potter from 209, he's—"
"Yeah, Sirius is his adoptive brother."
"Ah." Mary sighs deeply. "Shame. I do wonder if there's an actual prohibition on sleeping with the guests though. Maybe it won't count if he's related to the Potters?"
"I can see you've clearly had a very productive day."
"You don't know the half of it." She smirks, and just as Lily shakes her head, turning towards the computer to go through the booking updates, Mary's voice takes on a decidedly teasing lilt behind her. "By the way, there's another, rather massive reason that has made the day, and the afternoon, more than a little crazy for me. A reason that, I'm sure, will interest you very much, love."
"Alright then, I'll bite." Lily turns around with a fond eye roll. "What was it?"
"James Potter asked after you. Specifically after you. Gave me quite a—uh, let's say, keen vibe."
"Oh." Lily blinks, tries to keep her voice steady despite the madness taking place within. "And, um, what exactly did he ask?"
"Not much. Just wanted to know what time you were getting in."
"Oh, but, that's—that's pretty normal, right? I mean, the bloke probably just needed to get some work done for the evening, or something—"
"Lily." The justification fizzles out on her tongue at the look Mary throws her; chock-full of unshed laughter, brimming with knowing. "He asked after you, no less than—count it—five times, over the phone. Five times, Evans, even though I told him you clock in around seven p.m. during the very first call. But he had to make sure, just in case you arrived early today."
Oh, fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
"Um, well—"
"And did I mention he also personally stopped by the reception twice on top of that just in case? I swear to you, that man single-handedly made it impossible for me to move from this spot all day, because I didn't know when he'd call or pop by again." She cackles now, utterly delighted. "What the hell did you do? Slip him a love potion or something? He was positively mental."
"My God, no, nothing!" Lily groans, dropping her flaming face into her palms. Shit. Shit. Why did he do that? And more importantly, why did she like hearing that he did that?! "We just talked a bit, and he may have flirted last night, but… oh my god—five times, really?"
"Really." She grins. "Don't worry, Lil, I'm sure this guest can be an exception to the shagging rule."
Oh, geez.
"Don't even go there, please." Lily pulls her fingers away, taking a deep breath. "I suppose—I should probably give him a ring then, shouldn't I? Would only be the polite thing to do, since he asked so many times…"
Mary's brows arch high, lips curved on one side like she's holding back a lot of words and even more laughter. Lily is grateful for the restraint. "You should," she says eventually, "the only problem is that he left about twenty minutes before you walked in. Don't know where, but he hasn't returned yet. So, waiting for him to come back is all you can do now, I'm afraid."
Completely senseless disappointment swirls in her stomach at the information, but she tries her best to keep the emotion from clouding over her face. A small shrug, a nod, and then she's turned back to the computer. "Works for me. Need to get stuff done anyway. He's… yeah, a touch annoying."
Even just using the adjective is enough of a prompt to get her lips twitching.
"Annoying. Right. What's that, like, a codeword for unbearably sexy?"
Lily laughs. "Get out!"
She watches him walk up to the reception while she's on a call with Hestia Jones from Housekeeping. The sentence gets lost in her mouth for a millisecond at the narrowed grey eyes, before she picks up the conversation again. When he notices that she hasn't immediately disconnected the call and given him her full attention, Sirius makes a noise that's somewhere between a grunt and a clearing of throat.
Lily holds up a finger in lieu of rolling her eyes; quite the professional decision on her part, to be sure.
"Alright—yeah, sure I'll give them a call. 312, you said? Okay… mhm, yes. No, don't worry about it, Hest—it was an unreasonable request and they have to understand that. Yes, now please relax. I'll take care of it. Alright, bye, then!"
"Evans."
She looks up with a nod, placing the phone back in its holder and turning to him with a pleasant smile, if only to counter the nonsensical scowl twisting over his face. "Yes, hello, how can I help you this evening, Mr Black?"
His already parted mouth audibly snaps shut at that. "Oh, fuck no. Just Sirius, please, for the love of God."
The difference in his tone and the one James had used while making the same request last night feels so severe that it's almost laughable. But Lily promptly plugs the impulse, because guffawing at customers hardly qualifies as acceptable staff behaviour in a luxury hotel. "Alright, then, Sirius. What can I do for you?"
"You—" he leans forward, black hoodie bringing out the cut-glass angles of his face, "—can put me out of my misery."
The fuck?
She cocks a brow. "Sorry, what?"
"When James returns," he starts, the words falling, clipped, under his breath, "I need you to just kick him in the balls, or snog him. Nothing in between. Just, give him the clearest and loudest message you can."
The FUCK?!
"I—" Lily looks around quickly, makes sure no one has heard him, and lowers her own voice to a whisper. "You know, I really don't think this is an appropriate conversation for you to have with me. Especially not here! What's with the both of you, trying to get me fired from my job?"
"Tosh! You're not getting fired. You're too nice for that. Everyone likes you."
"And how would you know?"
"James told me."
Her cheeks burn. "Look. Listen. I don't—no, I can't do either of those things. I won't do it. I already told him yesterday that it's not right for me to… I work here! He's a guest. And the owner's son."
Sirius levels her with a flat stare. "Well, alright, at least help me stage my own murder, then. Quick escape. Let's do it before he gets back."
Relieved laughter spills out of her at the change of topic and the certain knowledge that he's joking now. "Where's he gone, anyway?"
"Dinner with some mates from Uni. I can't be arsed to socialize as much, so he makes up for the both of us." He pushes off from the counter. "That reminds me; I'm starving. Is it too late to order in?"
"Not at all. Twenty-four-hour service." Lily tips her head exaggeratedly, getting a real smile out of him.
"Perfect. S'later, Evans."
"Sirius!" She calls a moment later, watching as he turns around from a couple of feet away, hands tucked into pockets lazily. "When is he… that is, when is James returning?"
"Why? You missed me, Evans?"
Lily startles at the sound of his voice, eyes closing momentarily as a blush sweeps across her face and neck. A bark of loud laughter eventually forces them open, and she finds Sirius with his head thrown back, amusement lighting up his features as he turns to look at James. Her own gaze automatically flies to him, at the way he swaggers forward in a crisp blue shirt and black trousers, some elegant watch wrapped around his wrist. She notices the rolled sleeves, the sinfully beautiful forearms they reveal, and feels her heart pound blood faster through her body.
Fuck me, she thinks.
"Of course, you'd show up now, mate." Sirius shakes his head.
James only winks at him in return, fingers carding through the mess of his hair.
"Oh, God," Lily mutters under her breath, but doesn't voice her mirroring sentiment: of course, he would come now. And of course, he'd look like that—not just ridiculously fit, but also… intelligent. So fucking intelligent that indecent heat swooshes in her lower belly.
"See you upstairs in a bit?" James tosses to Sirius, waiting only to get a dramatic scoff and a wave of hand in response before his eyes travel back to Lily. The small smirk on his face as he walks closer, accompanied by that bright glint in his eyes, immediately has her overwhelmed, the warmth on her face only increasing, even as she tries to look busy. It proves futile as soon as those arms of his cross together on top of the counter. "Hello, there."
God, even his bloody voice!
"Hi, welcome back," she says, tone as even as possible. "Had fun at dinner?"
"Have been asking after me, have you?"
"You say that like you didn't call me out on it insufferably just five seconds ago." She chews on the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Unthinkably, he looks even better today, the dimple on his cheek more pronounced. It's a bit difficult to look at him for too long. "And you didn't answer my question."
"I did have fun, actually. But if I'm being honest—" His smile expands, "I was rather looking forward to coming back."
"Yes, our beds are very comfortable."
"Now, don't you go talking about beds with me."
"Stop," she says sternly, lips pressed tightly to curb the grin that's threatening to escape. He looks delighted, but thankfully holds his tongue. "I heard you harassed my lovely colleague all day by asking after me."
He makes an affronted noise at that, pulling back slightly. "Hardly harassed. I simply asked—"
"Seven times, James. Seven!"
"Well… I don't know why you're surprised."
Lily doesn't respond to that. "Go on, then. What did you want to talk about?"
"What?"
"I mean, since you were waiting for me with such acute desperation, I can only assume you had something to tell me—"
"Ah, Evans." James chuckles low, the sound sending goosebumps sprinkling up the back of her neck. "I don't need to have anything specific in mind to want to talk to you."
Lily's fingertips press tight against one of the shelves carved inside the desk. Her smile slips a little, some of the excitement morphing into something more dangerous. "I meant it, you know. You should really stop saying things like that."
James's eyes run over her face. "I'm only—"
"Lily, did you call 312 yet? Hestia says—oh, sorry!"
She jerks away from the counter like the granite has scalded her skin, ears burning red as she whips around to face Benjy Fenwick, who works in the Room Service department, and is incidentally one of her best friends at the hotel. At the moment, his blue eyes travel slowly between her and James, no outward reaction given to their earlier—telling—proximity other than the slightest raise of brows. And though logically Lily knows there's nothing sordid she's been caught doing, a strange sludge of embarrassment and guilt still courses through her.
"It's alright, mate," James says, clearly the only one entirely unruffled as he smiles at Benjy. "We were just chatting. I suppose I'm the one to blame for keeping her. Sorry."
"Um, this is James Potter," Lily says, moving over to the intercom to call room 312 like she'd promised Hestia a while ago. "Mr Potter, this is Benjy Fenwick."
James looks at her a moment too long at her formal use of his last name, but mercifully doesn't correct her or say anything in front of Benjy. The two men get to exchanging pleasantries while she's on the call, informing the guests that the blazer given for dry cleaning can only be returned by six a.m. at the earliest. By the time she's done, they're already laughing together; James's infectious grin and Benjy's dry humour hitting it off immediately.
"312 is sorted," Lily says during a lull. "You can tell Hestia she's got time till six."
"Perfect! You're such a life saviour, Lil." Benjy reaches forward to give her a quick hug. "Alright, I better get back now. She's in the middle of a meltdown." He nods his head at James. "Good to meet you, Potter."
"Likewise, Fenwick."
As soon as he's disappeared back through the staffroom door, Lily draws in a deep breath, turns around to face James, and pushes out the words. "I need to get to work, too. So, I guess, I'll, um, see you later?"
"Alright," he says slowly, chewing on some question whose complexity she can clearly see swimming in the hazels of his eyes. And yet, what comes out of his mouth, after several long seconds of heart-pounding silence, is a simple, "I'll see you later, Lily."
She waits for a good whole minute after he leaves to drop into the chair behind the counter, plant her head inside her palms, and let out a long, frustrated groan.
Lily, he'd said again, like he didn't know just what hearing it in that soft, husky tone did to her insides.
Fucking bastard.