Page 3 of What the Hex
“Your rooms,” Skye explained. “You’ll need to be available twenty-four hours a day. Of course, you’ll be compensated accordingly.” She clasped her hands together gently as she glanced between them. “If that’s a problem—”
“No problem,” Arlo interrupted. “Right, King?”
Plenty of humans worked at the hotel, and town residents frequented the bars and restaurants, but they weren’t permitted to stay in the rooms of the castle. The exception being those who arrived with an Otherling companion.
So, not only would he be playing temporary assistant to one of the most famous people in the country, but he would do so while staying at the Manor for free. He would be an idiot to pass up the opportunity, and while he could admittedly be a bit neurotic at times, he wasn’t stupid.
“No problem,” he echoed.
“Wonderful.” Skye grinned, but she sounded distracted and uncharacteristically impatient. “Now, our guests won’t arrive for a couple of more hours. Head home and make whatever preparations you need for the next three weeks.” She glanced at an ancient grandfather clock behind the counters. “I’ll see you back here at noon.”
He and Arlo thanked her again, then waited until she disappeared down the narrow corridor to her office before turning to each other with identical beaming smiles.
“Can you freaking believe this?”
King could only shake his head. A year ago, he had been delivering room service. A few months later, he’d moved over to housekeeping, a position that came with more responsibilities, but also better pay.
This newest promotion, however temporary, seemed unreal. Things like this—good things—rarely happened to him.
He wouldn’t necessarily say he had bad luck. Mostly because he didn’t have any luck at all. He’d never won anything in his life. Not competitions, games, drawings, or raffle prizes. His one and only trip to a casino had lasted exactly nine minutes. That had been how long it had taken him to lose a hundred dollars on the penny slots.
He’d never found money in an old coat pocket. Never picked up a penny from the sidewalk. He’d never felt a tingling in his palm, an itch in his ear, or caught every green light on a busy road.
Then again, he couldn’t blame it all on chance. Some things required a certain amount of drive and ambition that he just didn’t possess. He didn’t have dreams or aspirations. He didn’t set goals for himself.
For as long as he could remember, he had been the epitome of average. Average height. Average build. Average looks and intelligence. Never the best at anything, but never the worst, either, always falling somewhere in the middle. And honestly, he was content with that.
Well, usually. As long as he didn’t—
Nope, he wasn’t even going to think about it. He didn’t want that kind of negativity encroaching on what was shaping up to be the best day of his life.
Since he and Arlo lived in the same apartment building—a new construction off the highway that had once been the location of an antiquated motel—they decided to carpool. Sliding behind the wheel of his SUV, he grabbed a hoodie and a couple of empty water bottles from the passenger seat and tossed them into the back to clear a space for his friend.
On the drive, they continued to discuss their excitement and good fortune, while also pondering what the co-stars might be like in real life. They’d both heard horror stories about beloved celebrities being total douchebags off-camera and treating everyone around them like trash.
King prayed that wouldn’t be the case for Storm Black.
“What do you think we need to pack?” Arlo asked just as King pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building. “Do we have to wear our hotel uniforms?”
A good question, and one he hadn’t considered. “Uh, I don’t know.”
After a bit of discussion, they decided to bring their uniforms, a few casual outfits, and a couple of nicer pieces. By King’s way of thinking, that covered their bases, and they could always return for another closet raid if they needed to.
In the building’s lobby, they went their separate ways, Arlo taking the stairs to his second-floor unit while King rode the elevator to the fourth. He had barely made it inside his apartment when his phone rang, the shrill ringtone echoing through his living room.
A quick glance at the name of the caller was enough to deflate any happiness he felt. Of course, he could ignore it. Let it go to voicemail and claim to have been working. Eventually, he’d have to talk to the person on the other end of the line, though. So, with a shaking hand and a weary heart, he connected the call.
“Hello, Mom.”
Chapter two
The drive from the airport in Colorado Springs to the sleepy town of Echo Falls took less than an hour, but it was like entering an entirely different world.
The urban jungle of steel and concrete gave way to open spaces and oceans of green for as far as the eye could see. The houses became increasingly smaller and older, while the yards that surrounded them grew exponentially. Instead of dogs and cats, animals like goats, pigs, and chickens roamed front lawns. One place had a horse just hanging out by the porch.
To Storm Black, it felt like coming home.
As a kid from a rural town in the Texas panhandle no one had ever heard of, he couldn’t have imagined he would one day leave his family farm for the bright lights of the movie industry. If someone had told him back then that he’d grow up to be an actor with fans all across the globe, he would have laughed in their face.