Hotels On Gate City Blvd Greensboro Nc Novels & Stories

The lovemaking was intense as he rocked his hips against hers, building up a rhythm until they both climaxed together. “I can go on all night, but I don’t want you sore tomorrow.” He eased her against his chest, both breathing hard. “Yes, it’s a long day tomorrow with back-to-back meetings with all the GMs. How many hotels are there under the Baylor Group?” asked Hayley as they pulled on their clothes. “Six right now. The one in New York was under construction when Simon Baylor went bankrupt. Then there’s a twenty-room lodge near Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona that has a lot of scopes if built into a full-fledged hotel.”

At 6 a.m., Billy took the lead, bringing Andrew and Eric toward the Majestic Hotel. The hotel was built on the outskirts of Goldridge City, nearly ten kilometers from the main downtown area. The surroundings were completely desolate and lifeless, with barely a soul in sight. "Billy, you're here pretty early today!" one of the Blues' guards called out cheerfully at the hotel entrance, where two lines of enforcers stood watch. Billy mumbled back, "Not early. The VIPs are already rushing."

Gael The traffic is quiet, and in less than 15 minutes we are at the entrance of the hotel, I observe the grandeur of the place, a beautiful building that must have about 20 floors with the name Hilton shining in red at the top, on one side the rooms have a glass wall.

On a future scale, not immediate. A month ago, my boss at the firm I work for just outside Greensboro announced they were expanding. I'm an investment banker, and my firm mainly dealt with the tourism areas of the Carolinas...timeshares, hotels, attractions, and the like. The expansion made sense to me, and I was offered my choice of the Charlotte or the Myrtle branch. Because Summer was in Charlotte, I'd been leaning toward that, but she wasn't an option now. There was nothing else in Charlotte to sway me in that direction. To stay in Greensboro would mean taking a pay cut.

**Hotel Ritz-Carlton, Savannah, Georgia** Mikhail lounged on the plush sofa in his hotel room, swirling a glass of whiskey as he watched the city lights flicker through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He had been expecting Lucifer to return any moment, and when he heard the door slam open, he knew immediately that things hadn’t gone as planned.

It was one of the largest hotels in the country, and its grandeur was evident from the moment you laid eyes on it. As the cab drove off, I found myself standing before the massive entrance of Gemini, the imposing gates wide open, welcoming guests with open arms. Taking a moment to soak in the impressive sight, I couldn't help the sense of awe that washed over me. Despite having visited only once or twice before, the grandeur of the hotel never failed to leave me in awe. At the front of the hotel, up to the top of the building was ‘GEMINI’ written in Gold and in 3D, one could see it from miles away. There were shutters driving around and valets driving cars to the parking lots. Again, Gemini

I soliloquized. The hotel was a 4-storey with the color white splattered all over it. It had a beautifully-carved golden gate which saw about ten armed security men guarding it. You’d be damned if you dare cause a nuisance there. There was a festoon of flowers right in front of the gate, ranging from orchids, sunflowers, petunias and so on. It was simply a beauty to behold! I got out from the car, adjusted my dress once more and made my way past the fleet of cars, into the hotel, while also scanning around for any signs of Adam.

"Uh, sure. I can try." "Okay great. My phone is acting up and I'm terrible with directions... Mrs Loendorf, what is the name of the hotel?" "It's the Four Seasons on Pearl Street... 2578 Pearl Street." "That's right. The Four Seasons... Do you know where that is, dear?"

My eyes flick between the screen and the street and Grey. Through the rearview, he's a shadow—still, quiet, gaze fixed out the window. We roll up to the hotel. Towering above the entrance, bold metallic letters spell Reels Empire, glowing faintly with understated luxury. Just beneath it, in smaller, more reserved lettering, sits Grey Inc. The lobby is hushed and expansive—marble floors, soft lighting, and the quiet hum of money and efficiency. People move with purpose, dressed sharp, speaking low.

AS THE LAST STRANDS of pink faded and the sky turned steel gray, I drove past the McLeod Hotel and parked several blocks away. It stood tall and proud at the center of the seediest part of Wilmington. Built in the late 1800s, it had not had a coat of paint since Hitler marched on France. A few windows on the bottom floor had been covered with plywood that had since grayed and curled, threatening to fall off. One window on the second floor was covered by cardboard. I got more than a few strange looks as I walked past the neon signs and cheap bars back toward it.