โMr. Preston insists we take a cab over to the hotel to save time.โ
Weโve now pulled over just around the corner so the taxi can
drop me off. Iโm embarrassed when he pays, but Iโve really no choice but to accept his generosity.
โMolly, are you sure youโre okay to walk from here? You know the plan?โ
โYes, Mr. Preston. Iโm fine. Iโm ready.โ Iโm saying the words with the hope that the feelings will follow, but the truth is that Iโm trembling and the world around me is spinning too fast.
Iโm about to step out of the taxi when Mr. Preston puts a hand on my arm. โMolly, your gran would be proud of you.โ
The mention of her makes my emotions bubble up, but I will them back down. โThank you, Mr. Preston,โ I manage before slipping out the door.
I watch as Mr. Preston drives away without me.
I walk the last block on my own and wait for ten minutes hidden in an alleyway across from the hotel. Itโs eerily beautiful in the late afternoon. The golden light strikes the brass and glass of the entranceway, bathing it in a mysterious glow. The Chens are on their way to an early dinner. Heโs
wearing a pinstripe suit and sheโs all in black, except for a bright-pink corsage pinned to her bodice. A young family jumps out of a taxi after a long day of sightseeing, the parents lethargic and slow. Their two children dash up the scarlet steps, holding up souvenirs for the valets to see. Itโs always like this at duskโas if the day is throwing the last of its energy up the steps while the hotel itself patiently waits for the calm of night to come.
The podium is the only spot thatโs forlorn and empty. Mr. Preston has not yet arrived. No doubt heโs still downstairs, donning his great coat and hat and signing in early for his shift.
Time is going by unbearably slowly. Nervous tension makes my entire body tremble. I donโt know if I can do this. Iโm unsuited to this level of performance. The only thing that gives me strength is the fact that Mr. Preston, Charlotte, and Juan Manuel are in on it.
When you believe in yourself, nothing can stop you.
Iโm trying my best, Gran. I am.
Itโs time.
I remain where I am, tucked in the alleyway, hiding in the shadows of the coffee shop, up against the wall. At long last he appears, Mr. Preston, smartly uniformed. He walks calmly through the revolving doors and stands at his podium on the hotel landing. He pulls out his phone and sends a text, then tucks it back into his pocket. I lean against the wall even though I know itโs dirty. If all goes well, there will be time for washing later. If it doesnโt go well, Iโll never be clean again.
A couple more minutes go by. Just when Iโm starting to fully panic, I spot him down the streetโRodney, walking quickly toward the hotel. Iโll admit that my feelings upon seeing him are mixed. On the one hand, his appearance means things are going according to plan; on the other, the very sight of his lying, cheating face fills me with murderous rage.
He runs up the front steps and stops at the podium. He talks to Mr. Preston. The conversation lasts no more than a minute. Then Rodney heads into the hotel.
Mr. Preston pulls out his phone and dials. I practically jump out of my skin when my pocket starts to vibrate.
I grab my phone. โHello?โ I whisper. โYes, I saw it all. What did he want?โ
โHe heard about the press conference,โ Mr. Preston explains. โHe was asking if I knew who was arrested.โ
โWhat did you tell him?โ I ask.
โThat I saw Giselle talking with the police. And that she looked upset.โ โOh dear. That wasnโt part of the plan,โ I say.
โI had to think fast on my big olโ feet. Youโll do the same if you have to.
You can do this. I know it.โ
I take a deep breath. โAnything else?โ
โThe news conference begins in under forty minutes. We have to be fast.
Itโs time. Text him now. Proceed as planned.โ โRoger, Mr. Preston. Over and out.โ
I end the call and watch Mr. Preston slip his phone away. I open a text to Rodney:
Help. Iโm at the front door of the hotel and they wonโt let me in! If I canโt get that keycard for you, whatever will we do?
Rodneyโs response is immediate: BRT DGA
What? What on earth is that supposed to mean? I havenโt the faintest clue. Think, Molly, think.
Youโre never alone as long as you have a friend.
The answer is literally right at my fingertips. I find Juan Manuel in my contacts and dial his number. He picks up before the end of the first ring.
โMolly? Whatโs happening? Is everything okay?โ
โYes, everythingโs fine. The plan is in progress. ButโฆJuan Manuel, Iโm in a bit of pickle and I need hasty assistance.โ I read Rodneyโs text to him.
โYou thinkย Iย know what that means?โ he asks. โI feel like Iโm on that TV show where you call a friend and they give you the answer and you win big money. But Molly, you called the wrong friend!โ He pauses. โWait. Hold on.โ I hear some rustling on the end of the line.
โOkay, Molly? Are you still there?โ โYes.โ
โI checked Google. Rodney means Be Right There. Donโt Go Anywhere.
Okay? Does that make sense?โ
It does. It absolutely does. Iโm back on track. โJuan Manuel, I couldโฆโ
I could kiss him. Thatโs what I want to sayโthat Iโm so grateful I could kiss him. But itโs such a bold and ridiculous thought, so unlike me, that it catches in my throat and doesnโt make it out.
โThank you,โ I say instead.
โGo get the fox, Molly,โ he replies. โI will BRT when you get back home.โ
I know heโs not here with me, but it feels like he is. Itโs like heโs holding my hand through the line.
โYes. Thank you, Juan Manuel.โ
I hang up and tuck my phone away.
Itโs time.
I take a deep breath, then walk out of the shadows onto the sidewalk.
Always look both waysโฆ.
I cross the street, trying to do so normally, without rushing, reminding myself to act as though itโs just another ordinary day. I steady myself at the landing, holding tightly to the brass rail. Then I put one foot in front of the other, and I climb the plush red stairs.
Mr. Preston sees me. He picks up the hotel phone on his podium and makes a call. I can hear him sounding perfectly believable when he says, โYes. Urgently. Sheโs here at the front door and she wonโt leave.โ
As planned, Mr. Preston is wearing white gloves, not part of his regular uniform. He usually wears these only on special occasions, but theyโll come in handy today.
โMolly,โ he says loudly and brusquely. โWhat are you doing here? You canโt be at the hotel today. Iโm going to have to ask you to leave.โ He looks around to make sure people are watching. Several guests are streaming in and out of the hotel. A couple of valets on the sidewalk stop what theyโre doing and watch as well. Itโs as though Iโm an engaging spectator sport.
Though it feels so strange to do so, itโs time to play my part, to draw even more attention my way. โI have every right to be here,โ I call out in a
confident, booming voice. โIโm an esteemed employee of this hotel, andโโ I stop short when Mr. Snow emerges from the revolving doors.
Mr. Preston swiftly moves toward him. โIโll get Security,โ he tells Mr.
Snow, then heads through the revolving doors.
Mr. Snow rushes over to me. โMolly,โ he says. โIโm sorry to inform you that you are no longer employed at the Regency Grand Hotel. You must leave the grounds immediately.โ
The words are a shock to me, and I must say I feel utterly bereft when I hear them. Still, I breathe deeply and stick to my performance, delivering my next lines even louder than my previous ones. โBut Iโm a model employee! You canโt just fire me without cause!โ
โAs you well know, thereย isย cause, Molly,โ Mr. Snow says. โWe need you off these steps. Now.โ
โThis is inconceivable,โ I say. โI wonโt leave.โ
Mr. Snow straightens his glasses. โYouโre disturbing the guests,โ he hisses.
I look around and see that more guests have gathered. It seems the valets have tipped off Reception. Several employees from the concierge desk are standing by them, whispering to one another. Theyโre all looking my way.
For the next few minutes, I keep Mr. Snow engaged on the stairs, demanding explanations, begging him to reconsider, talking at length about the added value of my devotion to hygiene and the high level of quality I bring to the hotel with each guest room that I clean. I channel Gran, how she used to be in the morning, how she would chirp and chirp and chirp without so much as a pause for breath. The whole time, Iโm aware that we have only a few minutes left before the whole plan falls apart. Iโm also aware that Iโm not in uniform, which adds to my distress and general discomfort.ย Come back, Mr. Preston. Quickly!ย I think to myself.
At long last, he walks briskly through the revolving doors and stands beside Mr. Snow.
โI canโt find Security, sir,โ he announces. โI canโt get her to leave,โ Mr. Snow replies.
โLet me handle this,โ Mr. Preston says. Mr. Snow nods and steps aside. โMolly, a wordโฆโ
Mr. Preston gently pulls me aside, out of earshot. We both turn our backs to the curious crowd.
โDid it work?โ I whisper. โIt did. I found Cheryl.โ โAnd then what?โ I ask. โI got what I wanted.โ โHow?โ I ask.
โI told her I knew she was stealing tips from other maids. She got so flustered she didnโt even notice me pocketing her master keycard from her trolley. Not so much as a fingerprint left behind either,โ he adds, wiggling his white-gloved fingers. โHere,โ he says, holding out one hand. โShake.โ
I take the cue and shake. When I do, I feel the master keycard transfer seamlessly into my palm.
โYou take good care, Molly,โ he says in a voice loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. โYou run home now. You have no place being here today.โ He nods to Mr. Snow and Mr. Snow nods back.
Of course, Mr. Preston knows as well as I do that I cannot leave. Not yet. Iโm about to start a whole new monologue about worker bees when at long last Rodney emerges through the revolving doors and bounds down the steps toward me.
โI donโt understand any of this!โ I shout. โIโm a good maid! Rodney, youโre just the person I wanted to see. Can you believe this?โ
Mr. Snow approaches. โRodney,โ he says, โweโre trying to explain to Miss Molly that she is no longer welcome in this hotel. But weโre having a hard time delivering the message.โ
โI understand,โ Rodney says. โLet me talk to her.โ
Iโm pulled away again. Once weโre out of earshot, Rodney says, โMolly, donโt worry. Iโll talk to Snow later and find out whatโs up with your job. Okay? Probably just a misunderstanding. Did you get the key? To the Black suite? Thereโs no time to lose.โ
โYouโre right, there isnโt,โ I say. โHereโs the key.โ I discreetly pass him the card.
โThanks, Molly. Youโre the best. Hey, I heard the police announced a news conference thatโs just about to happen. Do you know what thatโs all about?โ
โIโm afraid not,โ I say.
I watch him carefully, hoping this answer appeases. โRight. Okay. Iโd better get this done before Owl Eyes lets the cops in.โ
โYes. As quickly as you can. Good luck.โ
He turns and starts up the stairs. โOh, Rodney,โ I say. He turns back, looks down at me. โIt really is remarkable the lengths to which youโll go for a friend.โ
โYou donโt know the half of it,โ he says. โThereโs nothing I wouldnโt do.โ
Before I can say anything else, heโs at the top of the stairs. โDonโt worry,โ he tells Mr. Snow. โSheโs leaving.โ He says it just like that, as though I wasnโt even there.
After that, I hurry down the scarlet steps, turning back only once to see Rodney rushing through the revolving doors and Mr. Preston behind him, one hand out, the other guiding Mr. Snow into the hotel.
I check my phone: 5:45.
Itโs time.