Chapter 1 - The Cold Front
The high vaulted ceilings of the Grand Sovereign Hotel rose like the ribs of an ancient, gilded cathedral, trapping the rich warmth and the soft scent of polished mahogany and expensive perfume. Outside the massive arched windows, late afternoon rain lashed against the heavy glass panes, blurring the city beyond into streaks of cold, slate-blue light.
Inside the lobby, standing near the wooden reception desk, middle-aged manager Julian Vance smoothed the lapels of his sharp dark blue business suit. Every line of his posture exuded strict authority and unyielding adherence to corporate protocol. Standing beside him was Toby, a teenage bellhop with photogenic bright red hair, freckles across his nose, and a green hotel uniform jacket that fit him with slight awkwardness.
A shadow crossed the wet marble floor near the brass coat rack. An elderly man, hunched against the chill, hesitated at the perimeter of the warm chandelier light. His long grey hair and unkempt beard were soaked with rain, his dirty face smudged with grease, and his worn brown coat heavy with moisture. A dark red swelling bruised his left cheek, giving him the look of someone who had recently survived a violent altercation.
"Sir, could I sit here until the rain stops?" the old man asked, his voice a raspy gravel that barely carried over the ambient hum of the lobby.
May you like
Julian stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the intruder's dirty boots and ragged hem with immediate disdain. His expression hardened into a wall of corporate indifference.
"This lobby is for guests," Julian replied, icy and dismissive, before turning on his heel and walking away.
