Terms and Conditions (ONC 2023)

07

Harley's POV

Neither Jonah nor I said anything for the entirety of the flight. Not to each other, anyway. At one point, a flight attendant came up to us and explained how to use the tablets to order food. Jonah didn't say anything, but I thanked her.

As our car pulls up to the hotel, I gawk at the ginormous building. I'm not sure what I had been expecting, and from what I know about Jonah, I shouldn't have expected anything different. There are eight floors, all lined with dark, tinted glass windows.

"It's a business center, too," Jonah says, not at all fazed by the giant building in front of us. "A very popular one at that."

The driver pulls up to the entrance, and Jonah gets out. I scramble to grab my purse from the floorboards. By the time I reach for the door handle, Jonah already has the door open.

I hesitate for a second as my brain tries to process what happened before saying "Thank you" as I climb out of the car. The cold air hits me and snow flurries beneath my feet as my hair is whipped into my face. I pull my coat closer around my shoulders and shiver.

Jonah shuts the door, and I wait for him to walk up to me. Someone is rummaging through the trunk of the car, grabbing our suitcases and placing them on a luggage cart. I watch him intently, partially convinced he might accidentally rip my suitcase, partially convinced I'm crazy for even thinking that.

"Let's go find the front desk," Jonah says, not sparing the other man a second glance. He runs a hand through his hair and presses his long fingers into the back of his neck. "The sooner we get to our rooms, the sooner we can get some sleep. The jet lag is going to be terrible."

I nod and follow him through the sliding glass doors of the hotel.

Inside looks much more lavish than the outside. There's a fountain wall in the right wall that creates a glass-like image as people walk behind it to get to the elevators. Three white couches make a square in the waiting area.

White. Bold choice, considering how easily any small accident or dirt particle could stain it.

"Hello. Check in for Ricci," Jonah says as he approaches the front desk. He offers her a small smile and sets his bag down on the counter beside him, rubbing his shoulder.

The receptionist smiles and hesitates for a second before she starts typing into her computer. "Sorry, my english is not very good." Her smile slides into a confused frown as she types a bit more forcefully. This time she speaks in Russian. "I'm sorry, I can't find your reservation."

I translate her words, and Jonah mirrors her frown. "What do you mean, you can't find our reservation? I made the reservation last month."

The woman chews on her rose-colored lip as she continues typing. She stops and pulls the phone off her desk and dials something before putting it up to her ear. "Can I speak to the manager, please? Thank you."

She looks up at us. "I'm so sorry, I'm not sure what happened. Hopefully the manager can help me get this resolved for you guys." A quiet voice filters through the speaker of the phone and she turns her attention to the person. "Sir, I have Mr. Jonah Ricci here but his reservation seems to have been canceled. He's here, though, so I doubt he was the one who cancelled it."

She listens for a second before setting the phone down. "He'll be out here in a second."

Moments later, a short, lanky man comes out, dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt. His cologne wafts over, a woody lavender scent that smells much more expensive than I would have expected from a hotel manager.

"Here, Agafya, let me see your computer." The manager leans down as Agafya swivels her chair away to give him more room. He types for a second, clicks a few things in rapid succession, and then straightens up. "I don't understand."

"What's going on?" Jonah asks me.

I shake my head. "I'm not sure because he hasn't said what the problem is, but it seems like your reservation was cancelled somehow. I think he's trying to see who cancelled it, but it doesn't seem like his search is coming up with anything."

The manager turns to Jonah and I. "We have been having problems with our technology lately, especially with the influx of reservations as the storm coming in shutting down transportation away from the airport. It seems your room was double-booked, and the other people arrived here before you."

I relay this information to Jonah, who sighs and pinches his nose. "Ask him if there are any other rooms available. It doesn't matter if we'll be charged more."

I ask the manager, who types in the computer again before shaking his head. "There aren't any more suites available at the moment, and we're very limited on other rooms, as most are already spoken for. We can try to set you up in another room, free of charge. I'm so sorry this has happened to you."

After I tell Jonah what he said, Jonah nods. "That's fine. Are there two available near each other?"

The manager shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. If you want two rooms, they'll end up being on opposite ends of the building."

Jonah chews on his lip and types something into his phone. Whatever he was looking at didn't seem to appease him and he lets out a long sigh. "Okay. Just book the one room, then."

I open my mouth to interject because there's no way I'm staying in the same room with him, but he shakes his head.

"I don't have the patience to debate this at the moment, Harley. It will make our time here much more difficult to navigate if we're on opposite ends of the building. If I come across someone from the company who doesn't speak English and I'm not with you, I'm screwed if I can't get you on the phone or find you." He turns to the manager as a plastic keycard is handed to him. "This is the best option right now."

"Thank you so much for understanding. Next time you book a room here, let them know who you are and we will give you a generous discount." The manager types a few more things into the computer before stepping away to let Agafya scoot up to her desk again. He points to the fountain I saw earlier. "Over there are the elevators. You'll be in room 411."

"Thank you," I tell him. I grab my purse from the floor beside me, switching back to English for Jonah. "He said the elevators are behind the fountain here. We'll be looking for room 411."

Jonah nods, and someone yelps as something smacks against the glass outside.

A suitcase had been pushed off a cart as the wind starts to pick up. It's snowing outside, much more than it had been when we first arrived at the hotel. I can barely see beyond the entrance's canopy.

"It's getting pretty bad out there," Jonah notes.

I send a silent thanks to the heavens that we aren't still on the plane at the moment. As if I wasn't already terrified enough earlier, a storm would have made my nerves implode.

The elevator doors slide open and Jonah gestures for me to step through, following behind me. I hit the button for the fourth floor, but almost as soon as the doors shut and the lift starts moving, it jerks to a stop.