The Dead Take the a Train by Richard Kadrey

Author:Richard Kadrey
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sebastian had big dreams. Yes, the Hunter Hotel in Lenox Hill was beautiful, but he wanted a hotel of his own one day: a boutique establishment with complicatedly chamfered ceilings; mahogany and polished steel everywhere, everything sharply angled, sleek as the suit he’d wear as he promenaded from restaurant to lobby to rooftop pool. His guests would be as rarified as the decor: no reality stars, no third-rate moguls. One day, it would happen.

His parents had promised.

That they insisted he first work like the everyman was no problem at all. A few years at the bottom? They’d feel like nothing at all when juxtaposed against his shining future. Besides, he knew his parents had his best intentions at heart. They wanted him humble, they desired him attuned to the needs of the working man so he would be prepared for the egos and the upsets of a staff.

And Sebastian appreciated them for that.

Unlike so many of his peers, he understood the responsibilities of being heir to an unbelievable fortune. Noblesse oblige: a vital lesson. His parents had made amply clear how much the adage mattered: they were new money, not old, blue-collar billionaires who would not see their son forget their modest roots.

He had to admit it helped that he worked here instead of a grease-encrusted fast-food restaurant. The hotel teetered on shabbiness: an old bank building resurrected by six friends pooling their fortunes. They kept the original moldings, its Brascolite pendants, the stained glass, the vitrified ceramic tiling, but, thank god, brought in a better class of furniture. The place was elegant, if not to Sebastian’s exact taste, and the benefits were superb. Even if he had no actual need for such, the thought was what counted.

Sebastian leaned down to inspect his reflection in the silver cloche. He straightened his tie, licked the corner of his thumb before smoothing the digit over a runaway cowlick. Though only twenty-four, he could already see where and how middle age would transform him, and while Sebastian would miss his hair, he was grateful for everything else. The cheekbones he’d acquired from his mother, his father’s imposing jawline. His height. His green eyes. Life was good for Sebastian Hunter and he knew it.

The elevator dinged quietly, announcing his arrival on the fifth floor. He mouthed a thank you—Sebastian took an animistic view of the city around him; it was hard not to. New York felt too alive and impatient to be miscategorized as mere architecture—to the cabin and wheeled his trolley out, the assemblage of plates rattling as he went down the corridor.

He wondered if the guest in Room 248 was throwing a party.

The last few meals he had brought up were relatively minimalist affairs: grilled salmon (with asparagus, steamed), salads (Caesar, dressing on the side), overnight oats (always with sliced fruit but nothing else) and a gleaming carafe of black coffee, never with any sugar, only occasionally with a side order of milk. The repasts of a man invested in his health, who viewed food as metabolic fuel and nothing else.

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