Front Desk Pdf Novels & Stories

I walked in and stopped at the front desk. Only out of courtesy. “Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?” the clerk asked, his tone hesitant, eyes darting between my designer coat and the permanent scowl on my face. “No,” I said flatly. “But I’m looking for someone.” His expression stiffened. “We don’t give out information on our guests…” I slid a folded hundred-dollar bill across the counter. His hand paused, hovering. I added another one. And another. He looked around nervously, then snatched the bills and tucked them under the register like they were contraband.