“We can try to find you a room at another hotel, ma’am, but that’s the best we can do.”
Melanie wanted to scream at her. Ma’am? You’re calling me ‘Ma’am’? What are you, twelve? Instead, she took a deep breath and said, “Is there a manager on duty?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Goddamn it! If she calls me that one more time—”What’s his name?”
“Mr. Hailey.”
“Will you tell Mr. Hailey that I’ll be right down to straighten this out?”
“Yes, I will, but ma—” Melanie cut her off in mid-ma’am by hanging up.
Less than ten minutes later, Melanie stepped out of the elevator and entered the crowded lobby. She flagged down a bellboy and asked him about Mr. Hailey. He pointed to a crush of people standing near the reception desk. She stared at the crowd of ski jackets and snowsuits and felt a momentary pang of guilt. God, I’m glad I don’t work here. This guy’s got real problems. Then she straightened her shoulders and walked purposefully toward the desk. Fuck it. I need a room.
She worked her way through the pack and found herself facing a tall, gray-haired man whose maroon and silver badge read, “Trevor Hailey, Day Manager”. She waited a few moments for him to notice her and when he didn’t, she spoke his name loud enough to be heard over the din. He glanced at her and said, “I’m sorry. We’re full up. Try the Sheraton.”
She spoke his name again, louder this time. When he looked at her again, she gave him her brightest smile. “Look,” he began, “I’m sorry, but we—”
“Mr. Hailey, my name is Melanie Nichols and I’m currently staying in Room 312.” That stopped him.
“Yes, Miss Nichols?” he asked, giving her his full attention.
She glanced at the group of skiers who were loudly debating the merits of any hotel that couldn’t accommodate extra guests during the best snowstorm of the season. “Could I have a few moments of your time?”
He followed her glance and nodded. “We can talk in my office.” He turned to the young woman standing with him at the counter. “Try calling the other hotels again. And tell these people if they don’t behave themselves we’ll be forced to call the police.”
“But, Mr. Hailey, I already called the other hotels. They don’t have any room available, either.” Melanie recognized her voice from the phone and gave her a quick appraisal. Not exactly twelve, she thought. More like nineteen or twenty. Probably a college student, working to have some spending money or to help with tuition.
“Then try the motels and the B&B’s.” The manager’s voice took on an exasperated edge. “Just find some way to get those hooligans out of my lobby.” Melanie followed him into his office and sat down across from him. “Now then, Miss Nichols. What can I do for you?”
She shrugged. “Well, after watching those people out there, I’m sorry to bring it up, but I’m afraid that I’m stranded and in need of a room, too. My flight was cancelled when they closed the airport and when I called down to extend my reservation, the young lady out there told me the same story you told them.”
“Unfortunately, Linda was telling you the truth.” He shook his head. “Believe me, I don’t like turning away business, but we’re overbooked as it is.”