Mother's Day Scam: I'm the Real Hotel Owner
On Mother's Day, I take my mom to a hotel under my company for a vacation.
We've just sat on a leather couch in the lobby for a short while when the supervisor-in-training, Jacob White, rushes over angrily and yanks us up to our feet.
"This couch is meant for the guests who have applied for a VIP membership in this hotel! For broke tourists like you, you're welcome to stay in a cheap motel! Don't leech off the cool air generated by our air conditioners here!"
My brows are knotted into a frown instantly. I'm about to declare my identity when Jacob shows me a bill and demands that I pay 1,500 dollars for a meal here.
My expression goes dark immediately. "We've just arrived at the hotel, and we barely even have a sip of water here. Why should we pay 1,500 dollars for a meal here?"
Jacob rolls his eyes at me before rapping his knuckles on the counter in an arrogant manner.
"Those who stay at this hotel must pay this sum! We're serving fancy food here, you know! It's your business to consume it, but regardless, you still have to pay up!"
Unable to endure Jacob's antics anymore, I tell him to call the manager over. But he sneers at me before pointing at his name tag.
"This hotel belongs to my godsister! I'm the one who calls the shots in the entire lobby! No one can help you this time, regardless of who you lodge a complaint to!"
I stiffen up on the spot. I'm the only son in this family, and my relatives never meddle with my hotel businesses.
Who the hell is this so-called godsister that has usurped my position as the owner?