Neither of them mentioned the kiss when Mai returned in her pyjamas. Instead, they watched Netflix in silence, sat with a good few inches between them.

They watched until Mai fell asleep, her head drooping onto her shoulder. Oliver sighed, switched off Netflix and carried her to her room. Gene happened to be in the communal area as he did this and remained there until Oliver returned.

"What did you two get up to then?"

"Watched Netflix."

"And chill?"

Oliver did not deign to respond to the question.

"You heading to bed?" Gene asked.

"Yes."

"What are you doing to do with her tomorrow then? She's here for the whole day right?"

"Yes, and I don't know. If there were no fear of paparazzi, I would take her to the local sights, but I think it might be safer to stay here."

"You could take her to the spa?"

Oliver grimaced.

"You don't like it?"

"Too much touching and too high a chance of Jeffery appearing."

Gene relented.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Yes…" Oliver was about to shut his bedroom door behind him when Gene spoke again.

"The hotel gardens should be private…"

Oliver nodded and retreated for bed.


Mai woke to the sound of rain beating against the windows. She stretched and turned over, expecting a yelp.

But Luna was not there.

Mai sat up in a panic and recognised the surroundings. The hotel. Of course.

Oliver.

She checked herself. Her pyjamas were still in place. She hadn't exposed herself.

Shoulders slowly relaxing, Mai flopped back onto the bed.

A gentle knock at the door caught her attention.

"Hello?"

"May I come in?"

Mai pulled the duvet up.

"Yes?"

Oliver stuck his head through the door.

"I heard a noise, are you okay?"

Mai nodded.

"Yeah, I just forgot where I was for a moment, that's all. Is it time to get up?"

"What time do you usually rise?"

Mai shrugged.

"Whenever I need to for work I guess. Are you just going to stand there? Or do you want to come in?"

Oliver smirked.

"I fear your mental faculties might cease working if I come in…"

Mai scowled at him.

"Fine, stay there."

Oliver entered and pushed the door shut behind him. Mai pointedly did not look at his bare chest or the way his lounge pants rode low on his hips.

"The weather forecast for today is abysmal. If that had not been the case I might have taken you for a walk around the hotel gardens. We'll have to find other employment for the day…"

"I'm up for whatever, to be honest. This bed is so comfy. I'd happily stay in it all day."

"Well, you've made an excellent start on that already."

Mai frowned.

"How late is it?"

"Nearing ten."

"Shit. I did sleep in…" She cringed. "I'm sorry. Have I missed breakfast?"

"They will make you breakfast if I ask them too. What do you want?"

Mai sat up and pulled the duvet up.

"I can have anything?"

"Yes?" Oliver said with a shrug. "I think the chefs would prefer if you picked something vaguely reminiscent of breakfast but…"

"Can I have sausages in a baguette? With ketchup? And orange juice? Please?"

Oliver nodded, mentally noting the order.

"How long do you reckon it'll be? I can shower and stuff now if—"

"There is no rush. You may remain in your pyjamas if you're more comfortable."

"Okay then, I will."

She flopped sideways in a dramatic fashion and grinned at Oliver through the darkness. He rolled his eyes, but she could see him smiling.

"I'll be back soon."

He ordered her breakfast and then rejoined Mai in her bedroom. She had moved to the window.

"It really is miserable out there, huh…"

"Yes," Oliver agreed. "Quite miserable. Gene had a suggestion though; if you are up for his hijinks?"

"Oh? Go on?"

"He suggested board games."

For a moment, Oliver feared he had said something stupid as Mai's face did not react. Then she broke into the widest and most devious smile he had ever seen.

"You're going down. What are we talking? Monopoly? Cluedo? Risk?"

"I have never played any of them. But—"

"You've never played Monopoly?" Mai asked, incredulous.

"No? Our father—"

"Was a dickhead. I get it." Mai shook her head in disgust. "Okay, we'll we are rectifying this. I'm going to shower. You phone those people in reception and get them to get us the original board Monopoly, not one of the themed ones. It'll take all day."

"All day?"

"Yes, this is not a game for the faint-hearted. Right, chop-chop!"

She clapped her hands and ushered Oliver out of the room. He left with a rather confused expression.

Half an hour later, Mai tried to explain all the rules while eating her breakfast. About halfway through her explanation, Lin joined them and took over. He had played previously.

By the time Mai had finished, the twins had a basic grasp of the rules. They set the board up on the table and Mai grabbed the dog token.

Gene frowned at her.

"I'm always the dog."

He fished through the others.

"Ooh, Lin you should have the top hat," he said, handing it over. "What do you want Noll?"

"I don't care."

Gene rolled his eyes.

"Well, I want this very stylish boot. So you can be…" He rummaged a little more. "You can be the battleship."

"Fine."

"Who wants to be the banker?"

"Lin," Gene said. "I trust him not to swindle us."

"Foolish of you," Lin said, with a sly smirk. "But I will take on this responsibility."

Mai was already counting out the notes and handing them out.

"Who goes first?" Oliver asked.

"We all roll a dice and whoever rolls highest goes first."

They rolled and the game began.


"We need a story, Mads!"

Madoka sank back into her desk chair and groaned.

"Kim, I'm looking I swear. All the damn celebs are behaving."

"Celebs are never behaving. They're just getting better at hiding it." She sighed. "What we need, is one of those goody-two-shoes that are squeaky clean… We need something on one of them. That would sell mags."

The desk chair spun around; the floor was slightly wonky. Madoka found herself facing her sort-of boss.

"What about those model twins?" she suggested.

"The Griffiths brothers?" Kim scoffed. "No way, they are untouchable. Lower your sights a little."

"Why are they untouchable, though? Like… What are they hiding?"

"Everyone that has ever worked with them has given them glowing reviews. No one has ever complained about them. They don't date. They donate to charity. They're model citizens. The closest anyone came to a complaint was their manager is loud and can't hold his drink. But he's American, what American isn't loud?"

Madoka bit her lip and twirled a stray lock of pink hair around her fingers.

"What are they working on at the moment?"

"No idea. They've finished that fragrance campaign. We've got a while until Fashion Week starts. Perhaps they're on time off…"

Madoka groaned.

"Eugh. Okay, who else?"

"How about Masako Hara? She's in the UK at the moment for that film, right?"

"She's hardly squeaky clean… She's blackmailed a fair share of directors," Madoka pointed out.

"Blackmailed the perverts into giving her better roles so she doesn't expose them? In the age of #MeToo…" Kim said. "I bet she's had more than her fair share of yellow fever dickheads after her…"

"You might have a point there…" Madoka reached for her phone and began googling. "Looks like she's staying in Berkshire. I suppose I could go and take a look. Perhaps she's sworn at some hotel staff or something."

"Great. You do that. I'm gonna finish up this piece about Meghan Markle."

"Is it a fresh take or are you just rehashing all the usual racist bullshit?"

"Oh, fresh take! What do you take me for? Some sort of lazy rag mag writer?"

Madoka laughed.

"What are you doing then?"

"Talking about her charity work basically."

"Safe…"

"Yeah. But it'll sell. I'm going for a divisive 'what good has Meghan done?' title."

Madoka laughed.

"Despicable."

"Pays the bills!" Kim replied.


Stacy smiled. It was her first night on reception by herself. Finally, she had been trusted. It wasn't like her bosses thought her incapable, but it was still nice to be given the responsibility.

Perhaps this Hospitality Apprenticeship had been a good idea after all.

The lift doors opened. Stacy did not stare. She knew that this particular client was a supermodel or something. He deserved to be. He was painfully attractive. The young woman with him was cute too.

"Just admit that you lost and that I am awesome at Monopoly!" the young woman exclaimed.

"You only won because Lin had to leave and sold you all his properties at less than their real value," the supermodel retorted.

Stacy hid her smile, she could tell he was not really annoyed.

"You should have offered something better for them then!"

They walked through the foyer and towards the door to the gardens.

Stacy desperately wanted to text one of her friends and tell them not only was she looking after supermodels, but supermodels were surprisingly normal and very cute with their girlfriends. Who knew supermodels played Monopoly?

The young woman beamed at Stacy as they passed.

Stacy returned the smile and hoped her cheeks were not going too red in the process.

Within moments, she was quite alone in the entrance hall again. She shuffled some papers, refreshed the email inbox and idly wiped the desk.

Perhaps if it stayed this quiet, she could practise her French. Stacy had taken it at GCSE and when her boss insisted she learnt a language — it helped when dealing with guests — she thought French would be her best bet at not making an entire fool of herself.

Learning it now she was a little older was more fun too. In school, it had been rote learning and repetitively filling out worksheets. In her new Monday evening classes, she actually spoke with French people and could practice the language with her peers.

Plus, her fellow students were learning because they wanted to, rather than because their school had forced them.

Lost in her thoughts, Stacy almost missed the front door opening. She had to refrain from sneering when she saw who had walked in.

The middle-aged man appeared to have oil and grease covering him from head to toe. He had a tool belt around his waist and a blackened rag hanging from a pocket.

Stacy forced a smile.

"Hello, how can I help you, sir?"

"Hello, dear, I was hoping you could point me in the direction of the car park. I've been asked to repair a young lady's car while she stays here. My boss told me…" He pulled out a dirty scrap of paper from one of his pockets. "Yes, a green Renault Clio."

"Do you have the name of the owner?"

"Well, dear, I have it written down here, see?" He slapped the dirty paper onto the pristine desk. "But I'll be damned if I can read it."

"Ah, okay, well," Stacy stumbled for a solution. She was not going to make a fuss on her first night in charge. She could do this. "One moment please."

She darted around the desk and walked out of the front door, where the valet, George, stood.

"Do you know anything about a green Clio?"

"The tatty car? Yeah? What about it?" George asked.

"Could you show this repairman to it? He's been asked to fix it or something."

"Sure. Let me get the keys."

Stacy returned to her desk and began writing up a visitor pass.

"My colleague will show you down to the car park, how long do you expect to be here?"

"Perhaps an hour or so?"

"Can I see some photographic ID?"

The man fished a card out of his wallet and handed it over. Stacy took it gingerly and copied down the name: Frank Mitchell.

"Thank you very much, Mr Mitchell. Please wear this pass while you're here and leave it with me once you've finished. George will show you to the car park."

"Thank you very much, dear."

Stacy maintained her smile until Mr Mitchell had left.


Author's note: WOO I made it in time. I'm sorry to everyone that's sending me messages, I read them on my phone and then forget to answer and at some point I will sit down and reply to everything but it probably won't be right now... Please review :)