His Favorite Worker

Chapter 4

Warning: NOT EDITED

I put on my apron and got the vegetables out for lunch at the hotel. I worked with everyone to make food for the customers of the hotel. I was in charge of cutting all the vegetables. Luckily, the cut I gave myself the other day has healed. I can still feel the presence of Mr. Lockwood. He was so close to me at then... I shook my head. I wouldn't really encounter him in the future. He was just a guest at the hotel. I shouldn't worry about him. I continued chopping the onions, and I watched as my fingers did the work for me. I never had much experience in the food industry, as I grew up studying for school. With help from Sylvia and my family members, my cooking skills got better. The onions sizzled in the pot and another worker cooked them. I was more ingredients to cut, so I cut all of them up and the worker placed them in the pot. All the food was soon cooked, and I changed into my server attire and placed the food out on the counter. Minutes later, people came in to get the food. Guests asked me to fetch them this and that, and I happily did it for them. I was pouring ginger ale for a guest when Mr. Lockwood walked in. Umm.. just pretend you didn't notice him. I I took the cup of ginger ale and placed it on the guest's table.

"Your ginger ale, sir." I carefully placed the cup on the table.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Please call me if you need me again." I told him politely.

I watched Mr. Lockwood secretly. John, a server, was talking to him. They were far away, so I couldn't hear them clearly. I went on to refilling the food at the counter. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I immediately knew who it was.

"Welcome to our lounge, Mr. Lock-" I was surprised to see who it was.

"Hey Melissa. How's it going?" John came over, not Mr. Lockwood.

"I'm fine, John." I looked into his brown eyes, that were so different from Mr. Lockwood's. Stop thinking about Mr. Lockwood!

"Well, I'll see you later, Melissa." John and I didn't talk too often, but we knew each other and we helped each other in some cases.

An hour later, lunch was finished, and all the food was devoured. I was gathering the plates when Sylvia called me.

"Melissa, room 2123 called for room service. He asked for a plate of pasta and red wine. Start making the food, and give the plates to me. After you're finished with this task, you're excused for the night. She told me.

"Ok, Sylvia." I gave the dishes to Sylvia, and grabbed prepared the pasta on our room service menu.

I smoothed my clothes and and took the elevator down to the twenty-first floor. I was able to find room 2123 quickly, as all the workers had to remember the layout of the hotel.

Ding Dong!

I was pushing a tray of food when the door opened. I was shocked to see who was on the other side.

"Welcome, Ms. Hoillure." Mr. Lockwood opened the door, and I saw him for the first time without his business clothes. He was wearing a slightly tight T-shirt, with long, black pants. I diverted my eyes to his face.

"Sir, you ordered room service of a pasta and a bottle of red wine?" I told him what he ordered.

"Yes, please place everything on the table." He led me into his room.

Surprisingly enough, room 2123 isn't the Presidential Suite, which is expected Mr. Lockwood to be in. 2123 was just a common room with more space, as well as a dining table.

I pushed the cart in slowly, not wanting to spill anything over. I pulled out a table mat and placed it on the table delicately. My hands were trembling. Why are my hands trembling? This is just a normal room service. Melissa, you've done tons of room services before. This shouldn't be any different. I gathered my senses and got out the utensils and placed them down. I looked behind to see where Mr. Lockwood was, and turns out, he was right behind, just like last time in the kitchen when I cut my finger. I barely managed to hide my blush before turning back to the food. I carefully placed the pasta down, and opened the bottle of wine. I poured some into the wine glass, before removing the cart from his room. Since I was such a clumsy person, I bumped into the wall in Mr. Lockwood's room. He was quick to his feet.

"Are you okay?" He asked me, concern evident in his voice.

"Yes, excuse me. I deeply apologize for that."

Taking a deep breath, I rolled the cart outside of the door.

"Is there anything else you would like, Mr. Lockwood?" I asked him.

"No. Thank you for coming and preparing my food." He said graciously.

"Of course, sir. It is my pleasure." I took the cart and left the room.

I pushed the cart down the hallway, and put my hand into my pocket. I wiggled my hand around to feel for my lucky charm, which is a necklace that my great-grandmother gave to me before she passed away. I never wear the necklace unless there is a very special occasion, like a wedding. I searched through my pocket, but the necklace was not there. No, no, no! Where is it? I stopped in the hallway and search through all my pockets, including the one that was on my uniform. Wait.. I think the necklace fell out when I bumped into the wall. It has to be in Mr. Lockwood's room. There isn't anywhere else where it could be. I turned back, preparing to ask him if I could search his room for my necklace. Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and out stepped Mr. Lockwood.

"Is this yours? I think you dropped it." He opened his hand, and there was my necklace.

"Oh yes, thank you so much." He gave me the necklace.

"You know, you should probably wear it, so you don't lose it again." He told me.

"Normally, I don't lose it. I don't know what happened this time."

"Well, be careful next time." Mr. Lockwood said.

"Yes, of course sir. " As he started to walk back to his room, I bid him good night. "Good night, Mr. Lockwood."

Just before he was about to enter his room, he looked back at me. I couldn't help but stare at his face. I looked away seconds later, due to the fact that I'm not very comfortable with men.

"Good night, Ms. Hoillure."

When I lifted my head, he was already gone.

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TIP IN THE FUTURE: An almost-kiss in the garden at the Tireniment.

NEXT CHAPTER: Wilson's father calls him.