Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts by A.J. Matthews

Author:A.J. Matthews [Matthews, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
Published: 2011-12-13T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Claudia took Martin to her office that afternoon. Phaeton Realtors, Inc. occupied half of the 25th floor of a modern block halfway towards Queens.

"It's better than the old office, which was on the fifth floor when I started here. From there on a clear day you could almost see New York City," Claudia muttered sourly as they emerged from the elevator into the reception area.

The glossy blond-coifed receptionist looked up in surprise. Her name badge proclaimed her to be Andrea. "Claudia, honey! Didn't you call to say you're taking a personal day?"

"I did and I was," Claudia replied curtly. "Kyle called back right after. Told me I had to be here this afternoon. Any idea why?"

"Could be something to do with the Chestnut Mansion," Andrea replied with a shrug, looking Martin over in an obvious way. "Carla pulled the hotel files for him a while ago."

"Humph!" Claudia snorted, and introduced Martin. Andrea's eyes took on a distinctly cool look as she handed him a visitor’s badge to wear.

Martin gazed around at the busy office as Claudia led the way. Smartly-dressed men and women were busy in their open-top cubicles, poring over computer screens, print-outs and faxes, all busily serving their corporate master. The heady scent of money filled the air. It reminded him in some ways of the Revenue Office and he suddenly felt depressed.

Claudia took him to her own small office. As a relatively senior broker she rated something larger and more private than a cubicle. His eyes wandered over her tall, trim form in the charcoal grey suit, admiring the sway of her hips as she moved, musing on her transformation from the frightened young woman he'd encountered early that morning.

"Here it is, my own little nook." She smiled a thin smile as she pushed open the door. "I'll ask Carla to look after you while I'm gone. Take a seat. Don't be afraid to yell if you need anything."

Martin found himself in a small room some ten feet square. One side was a wide window looking out onto the street and Manhattan in the distance; a glass partition on the other side separated the room from the bustle of the main office. A few potted plants arrayed along the sill added a touch of nature. Two prints of Impressionist works hung on the wall opposite the desk, the vivid colors adding a splash of light to the utilitarian layout. On the wall behind the desk hung a framed realtor's license and two diplomas, all bearing Claudia's name. A plain gray plastic desk with a clutter of office items, a PC, three padded chairs and a beige carpet, and that was Claudia's working domain.

Claudia disappeared back through the door and he heard her giving instructions to someone. She popped her head in briefly to say, "I'll be back," blew him a kiss, and then she was gone.

Moments later a short, dark-haired girl came in. "Hi, Mr. Grey; my name's Carla. Can I get you anything?" Her smile seemed forced, her nature listless.

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