Alpha Billionaire Series

BROOKE

I counted rows and rows of bottles and jars and checked them against the clipboard in my hand as I moved through shelf after shelf of supplies, taking inventory. I was down in the housekeeping area, tunnels of back hallways that led to work r00ms and storage rooms. The hotel didn’t pump any air conditioning into the back halls. They didn't need heating; everything was warmed by the washers and dryers that constantly ran. It was hot and humid back there.

Even though the work wasn't as taxing as having to scrub toilets, make beds, or clean up after horrifically gross guests, I was still sweating. I was on my second rotation of housekeeping, and glad to no longer have to wheel a trolley down the room halls. No more knocking on doors, no more being exposed to things I could go a lifetime not seeing. My first rotation had been a real eye-opener to how horrible people were in hotels. It seemed like the more money they paid for a room the more they trashed and ruined the room, and the greater the chances of them being complete exhibitionists. This rotation, I was learning, hands-on, about inventory and maintaining supplies. Maybe in January and February when it got really cold outside, I'd want to come to hide down here. But right now, I had more than enough body heat with my two extra parasites taking up room in my body.

“Oh, there you are. Brooke,” Professor Patrick, my program manager said.

She was a combination mentor, lecturer, and on-site job manager. She was the one responsible for the schedule and the rotation for which departments we were assigned to. And she is who we turned in our written reports after each rotation. “Hi, Professor Patrick,” I said. “What's up?”

I put my hand on a bottle so that I could remember where I was when I returned to my inventory.

“I'm checking in on everybody and wanted to see how you were doing today."

“Doing great, taking inventory.’ I nodded to the shelves of supplies next to me.

“How are you enjoying household management?”

Ismiled and chuckled. “Ym not" I confessed.

“I know you were expecting to rotate back into food service next. But we've had to shift schedules around and with you bein as pregnant as you are, I thought it might be best to put you into event planning. If that's okay with you?”

I broke out into a huge smile. My eyes must have gone a million miles. I loved event planning.

“You look pleased,” she said.

“Iam. I really enjoyed event planning and was looking forward to it again.’

“That's good to hear.’

“I'm hoping I'll be able to pick event planning as my specialty for my last semester”

I knew I had a semester's worth of classroom work, as well as another two semesters going through rotations before we wer allowed to pick our final capstone specialty. But if I expressed my interest and intention now, maybe Professor Patrick woul keep that in mind when it came to schedules in the future.

“Iam glad to hear that. Most people after spending a couple of weeks arranging chairs and setting up tables find events one of the least interesting aspects of this program.”

“Seriously? I think it's great. Putting up chairs isn't that fun, but I'd rather arrange the chairs for a presentation or coordinate with the audio-video specialist than running room service,” I admitted.

“You do seem to have a knack for the coordination and implementation that housekeeping requires. At least that's what you manager is telling me.”

“Really?” I was glad to know I was good at my job. I didn't have to like it to be good at it. I shrugged. “That's good to know. I guess I could always fall back into household management if events fall through." I definitely knew I didn't want to be front and center with customer service. And I definitely did not want to be in catering and food service. That one felt entirely too much like unappreciated work.

The babies squirmed and kicked, and I put a hand on my belly with a grunt. That one hadn't been comfortable.

Professor Patrick nodded at my belly. “How's that doing?”

“I'm growing my own soccer team and they're practicing against my ribs at the moment,” I groaned. “Thank you for taking me off food service. I don't think waiting tables or running room service deliveries would be very good right now. When I'm done with my events rotation what's the plan? I don't think food service is gonna want me after that point.’

“we'll rotate you to grounds that's mostly office work and that'll get you off your feet for the remainder of the semester. I know you said you're okay being on your feet. But the rest of us aren't

I laughed at everyone's well-intended concern. I was the size somewhere between a small yacht and a large barge. These babies were taking up all the room they could. I didn't believe that they were curled up tight in the fetal position. To me, it looked, and felt, like they were stretched out as long as they could make themselves.

“What is grounds idea of office work? You know, will I actually have a desk to sit at, or does it mean that I get to have a walkie-talkie clipped to my belt and drive around in a golf cart?”

“We don't have golf carts at this location.”

I knew that I had just been saying it hypothetically. “Wait a minute. Do we have golf carts at another location? Could I actually do grounds at a different location?”

“You won't be on-site next semester, will you?” she asked.

Ishook my head. “Vl be doing the classroom work next semester. But I'll be back during the summer.”

She nodded. “Okay, that's good to know. We do have several different locations. And you could change hotels from semester to semester. I'll be sure to find you a hotel with a golf cart. If you promise to come back next summer.”

I'smiled. “Yes, please. That sounds like a lot of fun."

“Well, I'll leave you to it, then. This has been a good conversation.”

Tickled by the thought of driving around on a golf cart, I returned to my inventory. I had at least two more shelving units to get through before I had to check on the laundry supplies. A hotel of this size went through a lot of industrial-grade laundry detergent and fabric softener.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

I finished taking inventory of the supplies and headed to the laundry. Walking into laundry felt like getting hit in the face with a warm wet washcloth. If I had thought the storage room was uncomfortably humid, this room was even worse.

I nodded to the few workers who pulled the linens from the wash units, who were folding and sorting towels into one pile and putting sheets and duvet covers into another pile. I proceeded to check on the laundry soap levels as well as the fabric softeners that we used.

I made notes of everything on my clipboard before returning to the manager's office to turn in my notes.

“sit down before you fall down,” Antoine, the manager of housekeeping told me.

I handed over my clipboard and flopped into the seat on the opposite side of his desk.

He looked through all of my notes. nodded, shook his head. “This looks good. Now tomorrow we'll go over how to enter all o this into the system, and you can place your supply order. Okay."

I nodded. I was out of breath simply from walking through the laundry room.

“You're still going to be pregnant and in here tomorrow. You're not going to have this baby overnight. Are you?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No, no babies overnight. We're in good shape. I'm just wiped out. It is hot down here”

He nodded. “It is. Reminds me of home."

“Then you must be from the south. You don't have an accent,’ I said.

“I don't, but you do. Alabama?” he asked.

Ishook my head. “No. Atlanta. You must be from Florida." I chuckled.

“Got that one right," he said. “Land of humid weather and alligators.”

“Don’t you freeze to death up here in Chicago? I swear outside of this department I've been cold since the beginning of October.”

“Nah, working down here keeps me pretty warm. What you need to do is invest in a couple of good jackets and coats. You'll really want them for January and February when it's really cold. Your program mentor came through here and said you're going to be rotating out at the end of next week. Are you planning on coming back?”

I shrugged. “Depends on what they rotate me into next. I don't know where they'll assign me next summer.”

“Just 50 you know, even if you don't finish the program, you'll always have a job in my department. You hear me?”

I smiled. It was a relief to know that I was doing a good enough job that somebody wanted to keep me employed.