The Neverseen Run a Hotel

Chapter 13

Gisela's POV

I was done with Fintan. Gethen had told me about the zero star option idea, and it was genius! I had to get my power back from Fintan. Only then could I change this hotel for the better.

I decided to quietly approach Fintan in his office.

"Fintan?" I asked when I reached his desk.

"Hm?" He said, not even bothering to look up from the screen of his computer.

"Wait–is that Youtube?" I asked, craning my head to see his screen better. Talk about unprofessional.

"What is it to you?" Fintan shot me a glare.

I scoffed. "Whatever. See you later, Fintan." I stormed out of the office, which was a nice break for a change.

+++

Alvar's POV

I was answering Gethen's concierge calls at the front desk when a loud shout startled me. I looked up and sure enough, Umber was in another fight with a guest. One of these days, I would get her fired.

"How about you clean the shower! How would that feel?" Umber screamed.

"I'm the one paying for this!" The guest yelled back.

Umber scoffed. "So? Clean it yourself!" She threw a towel at the guest.

"I'M CALLING THE OWNER!" They yelled. "THIS IS VIOLENCE!"

Umber rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Have fun. It's not like Fintan–I mean Mr. Pyren, of course–will even bother to listen."

With one last glare, the guest left the desk in a huff.

"You know," I told Umber, "It might be better to be nice to the guests if you want to keep your job."

Umber rolled her eyes for possibly the tenth time in the last five minutes. "What do you care?" She asked. Then she stormed to the other side of the desk.

"You know I can still lecture you from over there, right?" I taunted, because let's face it: it was always funny when Umber got angry.

"Shut it." She told me. "Don't you have work to do?" Unfortunately, she was right. In my effort to save the front desk from doom, I had completely neglected the concierge calls. And there were a lot of calls waiting for me. Oops.

+++

Brant's POV

I couldn't believe it: for the first time in my career, nobody had taken back one of the meals I had made for a whole hour. I was in the kitchen, jumping up and down as I looked at the clock, when I realized that the dish I made had burned. Oops. It was worth it, though. One must always stop to celebrate the victories.

"Brant," Trix burst into the room, "We can smell the burning from the dining room. Put it out–fast!"

"Oops," I said with a grimace. Then I did my best to fan the air with my hands.

"With the filter, Brant." Trix turned it on for me.

There really wasn't much for me to say but another "oops."