“Are you in there, Tara?” A gruff voice knocked on our door as I climbed down the fire escape. “Is that you snoring, Ava? Where is my goddamn money?”
I didn’t answer. I kept climbing down the rails, running toward the subway station the second my feet hit the pavement. I made it down the station’s steps and jumped the turnstile, making it just in time to catch the C train to Manhattan.
Grabbing onto a handrail, I shut my eyes as the train lurched forward. I took a deep breath and went over the lines I’d been rehearsing for the past couple of hours.
I want to work at Russ Stock Exchange because I believe that I’ll be a great asset to your company. I’ve done my research, created a presentation on how I believe we can compete with the other firms, and if you give me a chance, I can promise you won’t regret it. Please just give me a chance …
“You are now arriving in Manhattan,” the train’s system said, making me return to reality.
When the doors opened, I rushed off and headed up to the crowded streets, heading straight for my next ride. The Grayline Tour Bus.
Slipping a pair of shades over my eyes, I pulled an old ticket from my pocket and showed it to the driver.
“Welcome aboard, Miss,” he said. “Enjoy your tour.”
“Thank you.”
I took a seat near the back and nervously tapped my foot, hoping no one would walk by and double-check the timestamp on my ticket. Several tourists stepped aboard, filling the seats around me, and I let out a breath.
“Welcome to the Big Apple, everyone!” The tour guide stood in the middle of the aisle as the bus moved onto the street. “Today’s half-day tour will take us through Times Square, Broadway, and to the Hudson River. We’ll stop at quite a few landmarks along the way, but before I can begin to entertain you with terrible jokes and inform you of our city’s great history, I need to scan each of your fare tickets. Go ahead and pull those out for me.”
Shit.
I turned around in my seat, hoping he would walk past me. Then I looked up at the greying skies, wondering if the universe would finally throw me a break and magically make a real ticket appear in my hand. That, or just let the bus go for five more blocks, so I could be closer to my job interview.
“Ma’am?” The tour guide stepped in front of me, killing all my hopes. “Ma’am, do you have a ticket for this tour?”
I nodded.
“Well, can I see it, so I can scan it?”
“Oh, I lost it at the last stop. Sorry.”
“We haven’t made any stops yet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Let me see your ticket.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Now.”
“Okay, look. I don’t have one, but—”
“Stop the bus!” he yelled. “We’ve got a goddamn bum onboard!”
“What? I’m not a bum.” My cheeks flushed red. “I just can’t afford a cab right now, so I’m using your bus. When I get a job, I’m going to pay you back for all the rides I’ve stolen, I promise.”
“You’ve stolen more than one ride from us?”
“It’s about to rain,” I said, pleading. “Can you please just let me ride to the first stop? I have a really important interview, and I don’t want to look bad.”
“Not my problem.” He pointed to the door. “Just how many rides have you taken without paying?”
The bus came to a jerky stop, and I stood up and pushed my way past him before answering that question.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, I looked over my shoulder as the guide directed all of the tourists to look down at me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your right, you’ll see a perfect example of New York’s worst scum,” he said into the mic. “I truly hope that this is the closest you’ll get to seeing a real-life bum in this city. Quick! Everyone check and make sure you still have your wallets before we pull off.”
They roared with laughter, and I felt tears pricking my eyes.
Refusing to let them fall, I started my long trek down Fifth Avenue. I rehearsed my interview speech repeatedly, convincing myself that today really was the day that I was landing the job of my dreams.
When I reached the right building, I realized I had half an hour to spare before my interview. My stomach was growling intensely, and although I’d promised I would never steal food again, my hunger won out.
I walked to the corner and stood in front of the stunning gold entrance of The Grand Rose Hotel.
“Good morning, Miss.” The two doormen smiled in unison as they opened the doors and let me inside the most luxurious hotel in all of Manhattan.
As always, I stood in the lobby in utter awe for several minutes, taking it all in.
Sparkling white chandeliers hung from the towering ceilings, a massive rose-shaped water fountain stood at the center, and the letter “P” was engraved in gold in the center of the grey marble floor.
The front desk agents were dressed in tailored blue and grey suits as usual, and it took all of five seconds for me to overhear them saying their hotel’s mantra.
“We don’t just sell hotel rooms. We sell a lifestyle.”
From my random and illegal “stays” here, I’d discovered that there were six restaurants, four spas, and a massive pool and lounge on the roof. Yet, the best part of this hotel was what had been saving my life for the past few months—the free breakfast bar.
Unlike the Hampton Inns that I frequented from time to time, this was gourmet breakfast. Chocolate drizzled strawberries, with truffle butter bagels, custom floured pancakes with hand-crafted omelets, and a staff that didn’t ask too many questions. (If they ever did, I kept a “lost” hotel key in my back pocket to make sure I could pull off being a guest at any moment necessary.)
The light sound of thunder roaring outside made me realize I needed to hurry up and get out of here.
Stay calm and stay focused …
My mouth watering, I made my way to the bar and looked over my shoulder at the front desk, making sure no one was watching. When I was convinced all was clear, I picked up a plate and loaded it with fresh cut strawberries and croissants. I smeared a bagel with cinnamon truffle spread and began making a cup of coffee. Before I could walk down the hall and slip out of the side entrance like I always did, an older man in a grey suit stepped in front of me.
“Excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Are you a guest at this hotel?”
Ugh. Caught twice in one day?
“What?” I stalled, looking around for another exit, just in case he tried to block my path. “I’m offended that you would even ask me that.”
“You still haven’t answered that.” He crossed his arms. “Are you a guest at this hotel?”
“Yes. Yes, of course, I am a guest here.”
“Okay, great.” He pulled a small device from his pocket. “Well, would you mind telling me your room number?”
“Um.” I felt my cheeks reddening, felt my fingers sweating as I held onto my breakfast plate. “Why?”
“Reasons.” He tapped his screen. “We seem to be having a recent, severe loss issue when it comes to a certain stranger walking in and stealing from our free breakfast bar, so we want to make sure that everyone is a guest here.”