WEST TOWER ROOM 1307, Pt. 1
As far as she was aware, Ashley Sterling was the first to arrive. A long weekend, three night, bachelorette party affair complete with all the prerequisites: booze, a male stripper at some point, ridiculous tiaras, and all sorts of other items that made her stomach turn. At 24 years of age, she was the youngest of the group here this weekend. The bride-to-be was 28, and most of the others were within a year or two of that. Despite her youth, she considered herself the smart one -- most who had even a passing acquaintance with their little group would agree.
The thin, freckled brunette gazed her eyes up at the massive structure in front of her as she got out of the cab next to the valet parking section. She was immediately pleased with her choice to book a room away from the others. Everyone else was at a run-down, 30-year-old casino a little further down the boardwalk from hers. To avoid too much of the rowdiness, Ashely figured a room away from the action couldn't hurt, and she settled on the newly constructed Atlantisea Resorts building. It had four "towers" of rooms, laid out more like a diamond than a square if you looked on Google Maps relative to the ocean and main street. From where she stood, she could only see the 40+ floors of what she guessed was their northern-most tower, given she wasn't on the beach side.
The price tag on this place was pretty high, and it showed in the clientele. Luxury car after luxury car pulled up to the valet, well-dressed men handing over their keys with glamorous wives and girlfriends in tow. Ashley began to feel self-conscious. At 5'5", her C-cup breasts fit her frame nicely, and her hips and ass were curvy enough (in her opinion), but some of these women were out of a magazine. Quite a few blondes in the bunch as well, making her nearly-black shoulder-length hair stand out in addition to her relative "plain-ness".
Time to find the actual check-in desk in this labyrinth,
she thought.
I should have about 2 hours before the rest of them get here. Even though I had to fly in and everyone else lives nearby. Figures.
Navigating the casino floor while wheeling her suitcase behind her, Ashley was starting to question whether there even
was
a formal lobby when she suddenly saw directional arrows pointing the way. Once or twice, she could have sworn she crossed back past the same tables despite following the directions meticulously. Eventually, she found her way to a wide open, carefully appointed and decorated lobby space, with a large, wide, horseshoe-shaped front desk that could've easily accommodated fifteen or more desk agents. There were only two present, however, one a girl in her late teens and another was a woman around Ashley's age who was so short she could barely see over the counter. Off to the side, a man with jet-black hair and strikingly green eyes was re-centering some sort of light fixture. She assumed that was the manager, though there was no identification or nametag of any kind to indicate so.
The man looked up from his lamp, smiled slightly, and nodded nearly imperceptibly towards the younger desk clerk. Ashley stepped up, brushed her hair to one side, and handed over her identification. The manager began to walk around the back of the desk, presumably to ensure her check-in was as seamless as everything else here.
The young girl, "Carla", per her nametag, handed back the ID & card. "I have you here for three nights with us in a King Suite, Ms. Sterling, is that correct?"
"Yes, it is -- are the rooms as nice as this lobby?" Ashley noticed the manager pointing something out to Carla on the screen as she said this, and the front desk clerk typed something into the system in response. "Is that you upgrading me to a suite that I see you doing?" she added with a slight chuckle.
The manager looked up and flashed what Ashley's father would have called a "thousand-watt smile" at her while his almost-unsettling green eyes fixed on her. "Just updating your profile and preferences, that's all." Despite his smile, his gaze seemed less than sincere and perhaps slightly annoyed.
To see if someone's really smiling, look to see if their eyes smile.
Ashley suddenly recalled this phrase, spoken at some point in her life by who knows who, as she looked at the manager.
"Well I don't remember signing up for any loyalty profile or anything but this is kind of a special weekend for me & my friends, if there's anything that you could do to help us I'd greatly appreciate it." Ashley added her most flirtatious smile here for emphasis, though she knew her friends would have more success going down that route. Her front desk agent looked as if every muscle on her face was trying to prevent an eye roll.
The manager responded before the desk clerk could. "All of our rooms are more-or-less identical in size and shape between the towers. The only differences are the décor, mini-bar, refrigerator, minor appointments and such." He smiled in a way that had lost most of it's earlier wattage as he slid a key packet across the desk. "That's the West Tower right there -- 13
th
floor. Hope you're not one for superstition."
"Never was. Aren't you guys supposed to skip numbers 7 & 13 or something? I saw that in a movie once, I think."
Why am I still talking to this guy?
"Actually, seven's lucky Ms. Sterling. And we don't like to skip
anything
around here. Operationally we're about as sound as they come. That way when I tell maintenance to do something on the 14
th
floor, they don't have to ask me if I mean the
real
14
th
floor or not." He chuckled in a way that indicated he didn't really find this amusing at all. She noticed his gaze skipped her freckles and eyes and rested directly on her chest for a few beats before he caught himself and looked back up.
At least someone appreciates my C-Cups,
she thought. Still, it was creepy in a way, and she took the hint and started to walk away with her keys before he called back: "Oh, and Ms. Sterling -- you mentioned it was a special weekend -- we have a delightful new lounge that just opened up. Scorched, it's called. Might find it worth a stop-in."
Ashley thanked the (mysterious? No,
shadowy
was more like it) manager and resumed following the directional arrows to the elevators to the West Tower rooms. Finally reaching them, she saw immediately to her left some sort of lobby bar that appeared to be mostly occupied by diehard gamblers based on the attire and attitudes. Just beyond the elevators, however, she saw a podium with two bouncers and what seemed to be a hostess of some kind, beneath a ridiculously bright red sign reading "
SCORCHED"
in highly stylized lettering. She could see enough of the inside from where she was standing to know the manager had to be joking.
The immediate interior appeared to open up to a horseshoe bar, but on either side were blackjack tables surrounded by poles and stages. The poles were adorned with some of the most ridiculous (in Ashley's opinion) looking women she'd ever seen. Bottle blondes, every one, with waist length hair and DD breasts or larger. Each was wearing a G-string, and only about half appeared to be bothering with a top. Those who did barely had anything covered, though with assets like that any clothing would be fighting a tough battle.
That was all she needed to see. She had two hours (at least) before anyone got here. She was going to take the edge off in the room and get ready to shoulder through this bachelorette party. She pressed the button outside the elevator and stepped on & up to her "superstitious" floor.
Unsurprisingly, at this point, the room was tasteful and immaculate. Though they did not call it a "suite" per say, the beds were off in a separate area and there was a small sitting area with an additional television, kitchenette, and fridge. The far end of the room had floor-to-ceiling glass with a view looking directly at the boardwalk below and ocean beyond. Ashley was once again proud of her choice to book separate from the rest of her group. She opened the mini-fridge and was startled to see that the hotel appeared to keep it's own private brand of liquor stocked, in little heart shaped bottles.
Ah, hearts. Like the suit. Casino, makes sense. Other towers probably have clubs, spades, diamonds, etc. The put a little flat piece on the bottom so it stands straight, too.
From left to right was pink, lavender, red, fuchsia, and a maroon color, two bottles of each. They all appeared to be shot-sized despite the impeccable heart design.
Being less outgoing than the other girls was going to make these couple of days a real stretch, Ashley figured. Might as well start out a little more outgoing than the others.
