stayed at the hotel.
She was a font of information, as she saw practically everything that had come through the front doors of the hotel in the last few years. Sally helped to book appointments for politicians, rock stars, athletes, and many other celebrities who chose to stay at the Paradise when performing at the Arena.
Many employees would have fought the changing technology, but not Sally. She had enthusiastically embraced the online reservation system, saying it gave her more time to focus on the guests.
Sandra appreciated Sally’s loyalty and candor. “If you think of any new angle we could try to get more business, be sure to let me know.” Sandra gave Sally a grin.
Sally watched her for a minute, and then let her thoughts turn to the hotel and surrounding area. The block outside the hotel had changed in recent years, and not for the good. The changes had occurred slowly enough that everything seemed fairly commonplace now. The streetwalkers who occupied the corners to the west of the hotel were “balanced” out by the street thugs and drug dealers on the east side. Nothing was blatant, and if you weren’t looking for them, you might drive right past, never knowing they were there.
But to someone like Sally who had been around for a while, she noticed. She just chose not to take the changes very seriously.
“I know there are plenty of sexual favors and other things going on outside the hotel, but I don’t really think it’s much of a problem,” Sally said to Sandra. “We have a certain class of clientele, and I think most of the hookers’ clients are probably either locals, slumming from the suburbs, or guests visiting from out of town.
“It’s not like we’re one of those sex motels you’d see in Brazil or anything.”
“Shame, we might have got more residents,” said Sandra with a smile.
“Most of the time, you have to make a reservation early if you really want to stay here. Unless you have loads of money, that is. Most nights, the only vacant rooms we have are the suites and penthouse apartments. We’re not as expensive as the hotels around Capitol Square, but the rates up there are enough to discourage your average working class guest.”
Of course, it was important to look right. If the inside of the hotel looked sleazy, or the front doors weren’t as elaborate, then she figured she might see more men showing up with scantily clad women just looking to rent a room for a few hours.
It didn’t matter you could hire one room for more than one client in that manner. She didn’t want them.
Sandra nodded her agreement, having personally seen the types of hotels Sally was referring to. They gave off an aura of sleaziness and she vowed that if the Paradise Hotel ever went down that path, she’d burn it down and save the city the embarrassment of such a plight on humanity. Maybe that would be going over the top but still...
Taking a list of the future reservations with her, she told Sally, “I’m going to go check in with Carla and see if she is all right. She was in full blown panic mode just before lunch.”
Sally had heard the Italian chef cursing and complaining several times the day before. Evidently, there had been a mix up with the ordering system and the hotel’s order had been taken to the Arena, while their order had been delivered to Chef Carla D’Angelo. To say that she was less than impressed with five cases of buffalo wings, 200 cases of French fries, and a truckload of beer, would be an understatement.
Her Italian heritage had shined as she told the drivers of their errors and encouraged them to do a better job next time around. Sally chuckled to herself, she had no idea what Chef Carla had said to the deliverymen, but figured it was probably a good idea that both she and the drivers had been in the dark.
There was never a dull moment around the Paradise, that’s for sure.
Chapter 5
Sally’s thoughts turned back to Mr. Saul Brandon. She did not see anything