“You worked last Sunday,” he pointed out.

“Cheryl asked if I could cover her shift. That’s different from you scheduling me without permission on a day I don’t usually work. You know I’m going to school. When I work the night shift, I’m too tired to concentrate the next day and I can’t do that this week. Too much going on.” She tried to sound reasonable, tried to keep her voice calm, but he was making it very difficult.

“If you don’t work your scheduled shift tomorrow, then I’ll write you up,” he said coldly. “That’ll be two strikes. The next one means you’re out.”

The gleam in his eye told her he’d be happy to see the back of her. She wanted to throw her job in his face and storm out of the hotel, but she couldn’t. The job paid well, and she needed the money.

“Fine,” she capitulated, lowering her eyes to the floor so he wouldn’t see the hate reflected there. She consoled herself with a mini fantasy where she was rich beyond her wildest dreams and chose this hotel to stay in just so she could torture Gary with endless requests that could only be fulfilled by him. No, she would buy the hotel, then spend a lifetime making Gary pay for his pettiness.

“I’ll expect a better attitude when you clock in for work tomorrow.” He moved past her toward the elevator bank. She glared at his back as he disappeared, then pushed the room service cart she’d been in the process of delivering down the hall.

She pasted a polite smile on her face and knocked on the door.

Her evening was uneventful, but she was exhausted by the end of it. It took a lot of effort to hate someone as much as she hated Gary. She cursed her luck when one more order came in fifteen minutes before her shift was over.

“I can’t catch a break,” she complained, collapsing into a nearby chair while the cook completed the request.

When the meal was placed on the cart, she checked the order ticket. Huh. Same room Volkan had been staying in the weekend before. It couldn’t be him, could it? Her heart sped up and she contemplated running to reception and checking the name of the person staying in the room.

Never mind. She’d find out when she knocked on the door.