Page 46 of Sweeter than Honey
“Mrs. Harrigan,” I say, putting on my best customer service voice. “I’m sure there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. If there was an issue at the restaurant, I’d be happy to…”
“It’s not the Respite lounge, Lily!” Mrs. Harrigan says condescendingly. “It’s theterribleItalian restaurant down the street!”
I give Lilith a confused look. She shrugs, then reaches under the desk to pull out the dog-earred copy of “Bitten by Desire” that Chelsie was reading and opens it. I guess she’s given up on the interaction, so I turn back to Mrs. Harrigan.
“Mrs. Harrigan…” Istart, but before I can say anything, she interrupts.
“The lounge was closed for a private event, and as you know, I willonlyeat at the lounge, not that awful family restaurant you have on the fifth floor,” she continues, with absolutely no reservation about insulting one of our restaurants directly to my face. “And so I asked one of your concierges for a recommendation for a similar type of cuisine. Enthusiastic young man, too good-looking if you ask me, that should have been my first warning. Heveryconfidently recommended the Italian restaurant down the street, so of course, being the trusting person that I am, I bestowed my valuable business upon them and had my dinner there.” Her nostrils flare violently. “It wasdisgusting. The linguine alle vongole hadbasilin it, and the server was much too tall!” She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling as though she’s about to faint. “It was a thoroughly horrible experience, Lily! Don’t ask me to speak about it further, I simply can’t!”
It takes a superhuman amount of force for me to keep a smile on my face. “Mrs. Harrigan, I’m so sorry to hear that. But as your experience wasn’t atourrestaurant, I’m not sure what…”
“I expect you to compensate me, of course!” she bellows. A group of people checking in behind her look up in fright. “It was only on the recommendation of your concierge that I visited that restaurant at all! I fully expect you to take the amount of money that Iwastedon a sub-par dining experience and put it against my final bill here.”
My smile falters slightly. “Mrs. Harrigan, I’m sorry to hear that you had a bad experience at a restaurant recommended by our concierge. But we can’t guarantee that other accommodations or dining experiences will provide a quality experience…”
She huffs angrily. “Well theremustbe something that you can do!”
I heave a heavy sigh. There’s a limit to what we can accommodate. I can’t set a precedent like this, even to avoid dealing with Mrs. Harrigan. I would love to just comp her bill, or give her a free pedicure, but I have to draw the line somewhere.
Maybe I can figure something else out. I think back to what Mrs. Harrigan said, and I catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye.
At the concierge desk across the hall is a tall, broad-shouldered intern. His wavy brown hair kisses his neck, and his warm brownskin is tanned a shade darker for the summer. His smile is even bigger than mine, although it’s more genuine in this particular moment. He’s helping a small family get checked in. He doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing, by the way he’s shuffling through the hotel key cards, but the family looks completely enamored by him. And it’s not hard to see why. He’s joking easily with the family’s elementary-school child, and making goofy faces at their toddler. He’s sweet and easygoing. I’ve worked with him a little bit since he’s come on as an intern, and it’s impossible to dislike him.
“Um, Mrs. Harrigan,” I ask, interrupting her tirade. “Is that the concierge who recommended the Italian restaurant?”
Under her large sunglasses, her face flushes slightly red. “Oh…yes, that was him.”
“Mm-hm,” I reply. I wave a hand to get his attention across the lobby. “Arun?”
He looks up at me, and gives me a big thumb’s up. Then he quickly finishes checking in the family and runs across the lobby, leaping over a lounge chair instead of going around it.
His white button up is currentlyunbuttoned, exposing his defined chest and what appears to be a single shark’s tooth that he wears around his neck. With horror I see that he’s not even wearing shoes.
He flashes an impossible-to-resist smile at Mrs. Harrigan. “Hello, ma’am!” he says brightly. “Hi, Lily, what’s up?”
“Mrs. Harrigan has some feedback about the restaurant you recommended to her the other night,” I tell him.
“That’s great!” Arun says, focusing all of his attention on the now-flustered Mrs. Harrigan. He moves a step closer, looking intensely at her. She puts a hand to her hair self-consciously. “Did you like it?”
“Um…I…” Mrs. Harrigan stutters. She shoots me a frustrated look, clearly not wanting to complain in front of Arun.
He continues to gaze at her with an expression of innocent interest.
She sighs. “I…I didn’t like it very much.”
“Oh no!” Arun declares, with an expression of genuine remorse. I don’t know what kind of magical person he is, but if he could turn into a golden retriever, I wouldn’t be surprised. He has that sort of energy. He’simpossibleto be upset with. “I thought for sure you would like the little curly fish things that they have. They’re my favourite.”
“Calamari?” I ask.
“Bless you,” Arun says. Then he looks at Mrs. Harrigan. “I’m really, really sorry about the restaurant, Mrs. Harrigan.” He eyes appear to grow several times bigger, shining with remorse. “It’s so fancy, and sinceyou’reso fancy, I assumed you would like it.”
Mrs. Harrigan visibly swoons at his attention. “Well, I suppose I accept your apology.”
“Great!” Arun responds.
“Is that everything, Mrs. Harrigan?” I ask her.
“For now,” she says. She gives Arun a little finger-wiggle wave as she heads back to the elevators.