After addressing the guys in the lounge, Dave didn't wait to see them leave but shut the bedroom door behind him and moved to Trish on the bed. She had not moved; she was still lying on her side and couldn't look him in the eye. She had spunk all over her face, hair, and legs. He leaned forward, removed her shoes, undid the suspender belt, and rolled her stockings off.
Trish looked up and saw the remains of anger on Dave's face. "Oh! What have I done? How did that happen? You must hate me."
But even though the anger was almost gone, Dave struggled to provide a comforting answer, "I don't hate you," Was all he said, and he lifted her to her feet and walked her to the shower.
He turned on the water, set the temperature, and helped her into the shower. "Your dress is on the bed. Take your time, shower and get dressed. I'll go and get the van loaded, then come back to take you to our room."
"I can't walk out there and face them. I'm so embarrassed." Trish murmured.
"I'll sort that. Just get cleaned up." And he went back into the lounge, shutting the door hard behind him. The only person left in the lounge was James. He smiled at Dave and asked if he wanted a hand.
"No, I'm OK, Maria is in the shower, and there is not much to do." Then Dave went to the other bedroom to get the trolly. He noticed that Pete was fast asleep in one of the beds and could see through the half-open bathroom door that George was in the shower.
Back in the main room, he placed all the beer from the chilly bin into the Fridge. Then put the four bottles of bubbly into the chilly bin and as many bottles of spirits as he could fit in with them. Most of the spirit bottles were unopened. The vodka bottle was near empty, and about a quarter of the Bacardi was gone. He put everything else, including some glasses, in the liquor cartons.
Loading the chilly bin and the cartons onto the trolly and the remaining unopened cartons of beer, he headed for the door. As he passed the settee, James looked up at him.
"I've left you guys over a dozen beers in the Fridge. I'll get this down to the van and return for the rest of the glasses, food etc. Or do you want me to leave you some food? You guys haven't eaten much."
James replied, "No, we are all meeting up for breakfast downstairs in the morning and then leaving, so don't leave any food."
Dave pushed the trolly out the door and down the hallway to the housekeeping room. While waiting for the service lift to arrive, he thought about what had happened. He knew he should have been more supportive of Trish, but he was too screwed up to think straight. He was embarrassed by his reactions over the night. And even more so by the fact he was still fucking horny and had wanted to take her on the bed, even covered in all that spunk. How sick was that!
There was still some residual anger, though, and he was worried about his reaction if someone said the wrong thing. So he had to escape. He hoped Mata wasn't still down in the loading bay, as if that guy was to say anything. Dave knew he would probably crack.
With some relief, when he exited the lift, he found a new night porter on duty with his eyes glued to the TV screen. The guy jumped up guiltily and helped Dave load everything into the van. Dave explained that he had another load, and they were now staying the night in the hotel. The porter said to leave the van in the dock overnight, as there was only one delivery on a Saturday, and it was usually after lunch. Dave thanked him and said he would leave the van keys with him when he returned, just in case. As he turned to close the van door, he noticed cash stuck in one of the beer mugs and put it in his pocket with the other money.
Dave lifted the insulated food storage cabinet onto the trolly, then headed back to the Penthouse. James was still on the settee when he entered the suite but looked half asleep. The doors to both bedrooms were closed, so he assumed George had gone to bed, and James was waiting for Trish to finish in the shower so he could also hit the sack.
Dave started loading the food cabinet with all the plates of food. He noted that they had cleaned up all the oysters, which brought a smile to his face. He had this joke he often used at a partyβ 'Last time I had oysters, the wife was a bit pissed off, all but two of them were duds'. It crossed his mind that there had not been too many duds in the batch of oysters tonight. He didn't think he would get too many complaints from the guys. They had also made a good hole in the plate of prawns, but he saw that nobody had touched the finger foods; just a few club sandwiches were gone.
James moved, then looked up, so Dave asked, "Sure you don't want me to leave any of this food?"
"No!" Replied James. "And George says to take all that beer in the Fridge also. As we won't be touching it."
Once the trolly was loaded up again, he took a final look around and started pushing the trolly towards the door. Then he remembered the video camera. Fuck! He had almost forgotten it. Looking over to see that James had his eyes closed, he slipped the Egyptian vase and the box with the camera into a half-full carton. Then sliding the camera out, he saw it was flashing 'SD Card Full'. Looking at his watch, he saw it was nearly 1:00 am and realised the video would have run out about an hour ago. It flashed through his mind that it should have gotten everything that happened in the lounge. Then he thought about how incriminating it was and whether he should destroy it.
He decided he could make that decision later and made the last trip down to the van. On the way back up, he stopped on the third floor and checked out their room. Everything looked alright; Trish's clothes were folded on the chair at the end of the bed. He pulled the money from his pocket and counted it; nearly two thousand dollars. They may be rich little society climbers, but they weren't tight. He realised George must have pressed them all to put in a couple of hundred bucks, and there was a hundred for Trish's knickers. Well, that's a relief, he thought. It should cover the clothes and the room, so the night would be profitable for them after all.
He returned to the Penthouse and found James still on the sofa with his eyes closed. Dave moved to slip past him and get Trish out of the bedroom while he slept.