Behind The Wheel

“You, have a safe trip and try to visit always and call as well,“ his mother’s voice was warm but with that familiar worry she never quite hid. She reached up, wrapping her arms around him, Williams returned the hug with a small smile. “I’ll try,” he murmured. Next came his sister, Paula, who squeezed him tight enough to make his ribs ache. She pulled back, her eyes shining before she glanced toward her husband. Williams followed her gaze, giving the man a short, respectful nod. The husband returned it without a word.

Stepping outside, Williams inhaled deeply. The cool evening air was a relief after the thick, warm scent of home cooking still clinging to his clothes. He slid into his car, the leather seats creaking faintly under his weight, and drove away. The familiar silhouette of the hotel rose in the distance, The Orlens hotel. The glow from the tall windows spilled golden light onto the pavement, giving the place a certain warmth. Pulling up to the entrance, he handed his keys to the valet without more than a nod, his mind already racing.

His father’s pointed questions made him doubt the work he knew was solid. The man had a way of making him feel like nothing was ever good enough. And maybe that was why people called him a “grumpy perfectionist.”

He crossed the lobby, his shoes echoing on the marble floor, and pushed open the manager’s office door without knocking. What greeted him froze him for half a beat. Two young women, barely dressed stood on top of Adrianne, the bald middle-aged man who co-managed the hotel with him. “Mr. Thorne!” Adrianne blurted, his face turning crimson. Williams’ voice was dry, sharp. “I see you’re working.”

“Girls, leave,” Adrianne stammered, waving his hands in a frantic shooing motion. The two women scrambled to collect their belongings and darted past Williams without meeting his eyes. The door slammed shut behind them. Adrianne cleared his throat. “I’m sorry… that wasn’t a good time.” “It wasn’t,” Williams said flatly, pulling out the chair opposite the desk and lowering himself into it with deliberate slowness.

They spoke business. “How many employees do we have now?” “Nine thirty-five,” Adrianne replied quickly. “Are we going up or falling out?” “Falling out. Probably because three employees dropped off, one from the kitchen, one from the valet team, and one from..” The word “valet” snagged in his mind. Against his will, his thoughts drifted to the valet he’d encountered the other night. He didn’t even know why. He forced his attention back. “What about the rest of the staff?” “No complaints so far… apart from one who argued with a client over some..” “Fire him. Find a replacement.” Adrianne hesitated. “Okay… sure. I will.”

Williams leafed through the stack of reports on the desk, the pages whispering under his fingers. Every so often, he caught Adrianne stealing nervous glances at him, the man’s hands fidgeting on the armrests. Finally, Williams set the last file down and stood, straightening his shirt. His gaze cut sharply to Adrianne. “You couldn’t even offer me a coffee.” Adrianne winced. “I.. forgot. I’ll make up for it next time.” Williams scoffed and left without another word.

He made his way to the security room. A man in a crisp white uniform straightened on his seat as he entered. “Good day, sir.” “Good day. Where’s your partner?” “He’s in the restroom.” “Alright,” Williams replied, stepping past him toward the bank of monitors. The glow of the screens lit his face as camera feeds flickered. Hallways, elevators, the valet lot, the lobby. He scanned each one with the sharp eye of a man who trusted no one completely.

Williams lingered over the last monitor feed, eyes narrowing at the grainy image of the lobby. Nothing out of place, just guests checking in, bellboys moving luggage, a few staff brushing past with the well-trained briskness he demanded. Still, something itched at the back of his mind. “Clean the lens on Cam Four,” he said without looking at the guard. “It’s got a blind spot near the north exit. Last thing I want is a security gap.” “Yes, sir,” the guard answered quickly, already scribbling a note on his clipboard.

Williams straightened, giving the entire wall of screens one final sweep before turning on his heel. The soft click of his polished shoes against the marble floor echoed in the corridor as he headed for the elevators. He brought out his phone and sent a text to his personal assistant informing him about his presence at the hotel.

Inside the lift, his reflection stared back at him from the mirrored walls: the sharp cut of his jaw, the perpetual furrow between his brows, the expensive navy suit that looked like it had been sewn onto him. Most people mistook that expression for irritation. In truth, it was habit, a face shaped by years of never letting anything slide. When the doors parted on the executive floor, a muted hum of voices and faint music from the hotel’s rooftop bar drifted in. He ignored it, walking directly to his private office which is also his private room in the building. The keycard beeped, the lock clicked, and he stepped inside and closed the door lightly.

The air smelled faintly of cedar from the custom shelves lining the wall. He tossed his phone onto the couch, he loosened his tie. A part of him considered making a drink, but the thought soured almost instantly. Drinking alone felt like an admission of something he didn’t want to name. He sank into a chair by the desk, running a hand over the stack of freshly printed financial reports. Three missing staff from last week. Something new. He sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. He already had people privately investigating the case. His mind wandered to that valet boy from the other night. There had been something in the way he carried himself. Williams shook his head, irritated at himself for even remembering.

The knock on his door was soft but urgent. “Come in,” Williams said without looking up. Adrianne stepped in, face pale, a bead of sweat already forming near his temple. “Mr Thorne… there’s something you might want to see. Downstairs.”

Williams closed the report slowly, the air in the room seeming to tighten. “Lead the way,” he said, his voice low but edged with steel.