Apartment Receptionist Novels & Stories

A red-haired receptionist buzzed me in through the elegant glass door, and I stepped in, putting on my professional smile. With a polite nod, I started with "Hello. I am renting one of the apartments you currently own, and I came to talk about the unfair eviction notice my partners and I have just received." The receptionist leaned back, grimacing nervously. Fine, the tone of my voice came out harsher than I wanted it to. I guess my anger surfaced despite my good intentions. "All of our managers are busy right now… Why don't you come again tomorrow?" She obviously was trying to blow me off, but I wasn't that easy to deal with.

Two guards stood near the elevator, a receptionist had a desk on the right side, and cameras were placed on all sides, capturing 360 view of this place. I walked to the desk. The receptionist was a woman who looked like in her late thirties. She smiled professionally at me as she greeted me, “Good Afternoon.” “I am here to see Celine Ashford,” I got straight to the point. Her smile faltered for a second before she asked, “May I ask which apartment?” “No,” I said simply. His fingers paused over the keyboard. She slowly shook her head, “I am afraid I can’t give out resident information without…”

Only this time, it’s not just physical—it’s the weight of everything I’ve been carrying for years. I drag my suitcase toward the front entrance. Inside, a receptionist’s desk sits directly across from the door. A young woman with a bored expression glances up. “Hello, welcome to Evergreen Agency. How may we help you?” she says, her words practiced and tired, her smile barely reaching her eyes. Something tells me she's unhappy with her job or her boss. “I’m here to pay for an apartment,” I say politely. She leans forward. “How did you find it? Online?”

" I’m here. In the parking lot." A few moments later, a reply came in. "Apartment 1702, 10th floor." I slipped my phone into my bag before stepping out of the car. The lobby was just as tastefully designed as I had expected; polished marble floors, warm lighting, and a front desk staffed by a sharply dressed receptionist. A few residents walked by, dressed in business casual or high-end streetwear, the kind of people who belonged in a place like this. The thought that maybe Alexander owned the building crossed my mind. It wouldn’t surprise me.

The building appeared clean and well-maintained, and I hoped that I would be able to secure a place to call home. I entered the leasing office, crutches in hand, and approached the receptionist. She looked up from her desk and hissed. "Just turn around and leave. We don't offer pregnancy support!" I rolled my eyes at her, acting like I didn't know she was referring to me. "I'm interested in renting an apartment." The receptionist looked at me like the one at the hospital did. Her eyes went up and down multiple times, checking my finger and baby bump. "You? Interested in getting an apartment?" She asked, clapping her hands mockingly.

She reached the front desk and politely greeted the receptionist, “Hello, I am here to hand in my application for the position of Project Manager.” The receptionist did not even spare her a glance as she instructed, “Wait over there. I am busy right now.” Aria sat on the bench as she quietly waited. But after more than one hour, the receptionist had not yet said anything. Aria looked over and realized that the woman was actually busy filing her nails. She walked over and spoke again, “Ma’am, I…” The receptionist dismissed her, “Didn’t I tell you that I am busy. Wait over there.”

"Now, which floor is his office?" Vee had to admit, she was impressed that Rebecca didn't look swayed at all by her menacing approach. On the contrary, the receptionist looked calm and collected as she smiled back. "Can I have your name, miss?" Was all Rebecca said, as she picked up her phone, seemingly preparing to dial for the president’s office. "Venera Rustik Yates."

Fae had sent me a text with things I could say to Aubrey and Rebby to let her back in, and it was exhausting going through it. When I arrived at the apartment, I was warmly greeted by the doorman. I took the elevator, which stopped at their floor. As it opened, a middle-aged woman mopping the finely tiled floors greeted me, continuing her work. “Good day, ma’am,” I replied. She stopped her work, holding the mop upright, her eyes on me. “Are Aubrey and Rebby around?” I asked. She shook her head.

Audrey next to me smiles at the mention of my name like he caught it. “Have a beautiful morning, Avethandwa. Such a pretty name.” He walks away, and I roll my eyes. “You? Why aren't you calling?” I glare at the receptionist. This is not even her company. Receptionists are like PAs. They think they are deputy bosses just because they work with the bosses. “Don't boss me around.” She clicks her tongue. Did these people just wake up and decide that they are going to annoy me? I grab the telephone from her desk, and she stands up to get it back, but i don't let it go.

This is where real stories are born. “Hello, good morning!” the receptionist greets me with a warm, professional smile. “Good morning!” I reply, returning her smile even though my nerves are buzzing under my skin. “Can you point me to the HR department?” “Do you have an appointment today?” she asks politely. “Yes. I’m Keira Dalton,” I say, straightening slightly as she scans the applicant list. Her eyes widen a little before she smiles again. “You’re on the list. Please proceed to the second floor. The entire floor is the HR department.”