Читать книгу Adios To All The Drama - Diana Rodriguez Wallach - Страница 13

We spent our Saturday strolling down Market Street, scouting every hotel ballroom along the way. So far we weren’t having much luck with our price range. Most of these locations had marble lobbies full of high-end business travelers with plastic name badges clipped to their lapels. They were used to a clientele that could plunk down more cash than my tía from Utuado. These hotels didn’t need our business. Our only bright spot was that Teresa’s guest list was small, only sixty people (and that was after she agreed to add my friends to her list).

“You know, we could also try restaurants,” I suggested as we walked toward City Hall.

The white decadent structure with marble statues and European-style pillars loomed before us. At one point in history, it was one of the tallest in the world—odd considering it now sits in the shadows of modernistic glass skyscrapers.

“I really like the idea of having the reception in a hotel,” Teresa explained. “A restaurant makes it feel like just another dinner.”

“I understand.” I nodded. “Of course I had my Sweet Sixteen in my backyard where my parents also hosted my first holy communion reception.”

“Don’t knock it, so did I,” Lilly added.

I was trying to be polite and play along with Teresa’s plan to host the wedding in Center City. It was a beautiful urban location and I couldn’t blame her for having her heart set on it, but the prices these hotels commanded were significantly higher than those in the surrounding suburbs. She could probably plan the entire wedding in South Jersey for a fraction of the cost, but my tía was stubborn (a Ruíz family trait that apparently was embedded in our DNA). At this point, I was determined to work out a deal with one of these hoteliers. I knew it could be done. Madison could talk circles around these people. If she were here, she’d have them slashing the per-head prices and negotiating upgrades before they could say “open bar.”

“Okay, here it is. Last one,” Teresa stated, stopping in front of another hotel.

Its façade was impressive and looked as if it had been on that street for quite some time. A bellman in a dark hat helped us push through the antique revolving door. The marble lobby, with its arching glass windows and antique metal trim, looked more like a train station than a fancy hotel. It was oddly funky in an historic kind of way.

“It says here that it used to be part of City Hall,” Teresa read from the travel guide where she had selected all of the hotels on our wedding reception tour (at this point, if Fodors didn’t like it, neither did she). “It’s an historic landmark.”

“Isn’t everything in this city historic?” Lilly sighed.

“Hey, don’t knock it. It’s our ‘thing,’” I said.

“I thought cheesesteaks were your thing.”

“They’re our other thing.”

Teresa stopped at the concierge desk to locate the event planner, who would be showing us our fifth room of the day. I briefly closed my eyes; they were starting to glaze over from all of the floral carpeting and crystal chandeliers.

“Hi, I’m Suzanne,” chirped a petite blond as she hurried out from a back room. She held out her navy-suit-covered arm to shake Teresa’s hand. “You must be the bride.”

“Sí,” Teresa said. “I mean, ‘yes.’”

“No problemo.” The woman giggled with an awful South Philly accent. “I can’t wait to show you the space we have available. Now, you spoke to Richard on the phone, right? Because he said you’re only looking for space for about fifty to sixty people. And let me tell you, you’re in luck.”

The woman whisked us into a copper-trimmed elevator without pausing to take a breath between sentences.

“We have a room that just opened up. It’s not a ballroom.” Suzanne grimaced as if it were a painful thing to say. “It’s one of our smaller party rooms. Now, Teresa, I know what you’re thinking…”

She looked at us all with a serious expression as she held up her palms.

“You’re thinking, I wanted a ballroom for my wedding. But let me tell you why you’re wrong. While a ballroom is great, I really think that for the size of your affair a smaller room would really create a more intimate setting. You don’t want your guests getting swallowed by the room.”

Suzanne laughed loudly at what she thought was a joke as we all stared blankly.

“Teresa, this room has everything you’re looking for. Beautiful décor, elegant chandeliers, plenty of windows, and enough space for a dance floor and several round tables. Plus, you wouldn’t have to overpay for a giant ballroom you don’t even need.”

The elevator stopped and Suzanne sped out, shuffling us down the wallpapered hall.

“Now before we go in, I want you to picture this: nighttime, candlelit tables, the smell of fresh flowers, the sound of a string quartet…”

Suzanne pushed open the doors and we were pleasantly greeted by a stylish room half the size of the others we’d seen, but perfect for Teresa and her small collection of guests.

“Teresa Mendez, welcome to your wedding,” Suzanne whispered.

Graceful wallpaper with gold accents perfectly matched the crystal chandeliers and chair-frame detailing. The carpet was floral but not as tacky as those in other hotels we’d seen. The linens were crisp, the ceiling paint was fresh, and the windows looked directly onto City Hall. I turned to Teresa and her face was glowing. Of all the rooms we’d seen, this was most like the vision she had described: elegant yet modest enough to fit her budget. Now it was time to work some negotiating magic.

“So, you say this room just became available.” I approached Suzanne, who was busy pulling the wedding package portfolio from her briefcase.

“Yes, you’re very lucky.”

“Well, the holidays are just around the corner.” I walked to a table and sat down, smiling pleasantly up at her while trying to channel my best Madison Fox (or better yet, Madison’s father, who taught his daughter everything she needed to know). “I’d imagine it would be hard to find another group to book this space on such short notice.”

Lilly snapped her head toward me. After years of being surrounded by corporate-level, Main Line–living negotiators, I realized that quite a bit of knowledge had sunk into my brain. It was now time to dig it out on my tía’s behalf.

“Well, this is a very popular hotel and we have a great location,” Suzanne told me.

I nodded toward the massive windows. “I noticed. Right below William Penn’s hat.”

“Yes, and we can offer you a discount on hotel rooms for your guests.”

She sat down across the table as Teresa and Lilly stood behind me.

“I’d imagine the Mummers Parade on New Year’s Day presents a lot of logistical problems,” I stated.

“We could offer a discount at our parking garage.” Suzanne pushed the wedding portfolio toward me.

I flipped open the folder and scanned the prices. The per-person costs were at least twenty percent above Teresa’s price range. I turned the pages carefully, absorbing the information.

“I see.” I nodded casually.

“You’ll notice our prices are very competitive given our location and superior amenities. And our food is spectacular.” She tapped the page before me, pointing to the entrée choices. “We can set up a free tasting.”

“Mmhmm.” I hummed, examining the page slowly before passing it to Teresa and Lilly who were still hovered silently behind me.

When I spun back around, the smile was lost from my face.

“You see, Suzanne. The prices on that sheet are rack rates, which while they are very reasonable”—I tossed out a fake, hollow chuckle—“they don’t really reflect the situation we’re in right now. Do they?”

Suzanne coughed slightly as she turned her attention back to her briefcase.

“Because, Suzanne,” I stated firmly, “I know you’re in a bit of a pickle. Losing a booking only two months out usually means a big dent in revenue. Most groups, and definitely most weddings, book months—even years—in advance.”

I stood up from the table and waved my hands around the room. “All of this beautiful space could be left vacant. And that really would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

I smiled at her, my head tilted.

Suzanne huffed, then leaned back in her evergreen upholstered chair.

“I see what you’re saying,” she said simply. “And you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t mention it sooner. Of course, we’ll offer a discount.”

I plopped back down at the table and met her hazel eyes dead on.

“We can probably knock ten percent off the cost per head and maybe offer an extra appetizer.”

“You know, I’m looking at this.” I snatched the paper back from Lilly. “And I can see you already offer a choice of six appetizers. I really don’t think we need more than that. Maybe instead we could get twenty percent off the per person cost?”

I pulled my lips tight.

“Uh, I’d love to.” She winced. “But my boss would have my head!”

We both pretended to laugh.

“But, and I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she offered. “I could probably do fifteen percent off.”

“How about fifteen percent, a free bridal suite and free valet parking?”

“Fifteen percent, the bridal suite and half-off valet parking.”

“Deal.” I nodded, extending my hand.

Suzanne shook it without even glancing at Teresa. Finally I swung my head toward my tía, remembering this was actually her wedding not mine.

“Oh, is this okay with you?” I asked, smiling awkwardly.

“Es perfecto.” Teresa nodded, her dimples denting in so far that I thought her cheeks must hurt.

“Okay, I’ll go drum up a contract. We’ll need a deposit within two weeks—it’s ten percent to hold the date,” Suzanne explained as she rose to her feet, collecting her briefcase. “I’ll be right back with everything.”

She rushed out, the heavy banquet-room door slamming behind her.

“You were unbelievable!” Lilly practically tackled me in my chair.

“Mariana, I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe I’m going to get married in a place like this.” Teresa’s eyes twinkled as she gazed around the room.

“I know it’s still a little bit over your budget…”

“No. It’s perfect. It’s better than perfect.”

“Who knew you were such a negotiator?” Lilly shook my shoulders once more.

“Well, thank Madison. You can only watch a girl talk down a sales clerk so many times before a bit of those skills rub off.” I turned to Teresa. “She negotiated the price of her eighth-grade dance dress. The saleslady was actually sweating. She gets it from her dad…”

“And apparently, so do you,” Teresa cheered. “I could never have done that.”

Suddenly, Lilly broke into an impromptu salsa sway. I popped to my feet to join her, moving my hips and envisioning the room on Teresa’s wedding day: me and Lilly in shiny bridesmaid dresses with horrific fluffy butt bows in front of all of our family and friends.

Suddenly, I stopped and glanced at my watch. “Hey, Teresa, do you think we could make a pit stop before we go home?”

After the paperwork was signed and Teresa had officially staked her claim on the reception space for New Year’s Eve, she dropped Lilly and me off at a familiar downtown hotel.

“I’ll pick you girls up in about an hour. I’m going to swing by a few florists,” Teresa told us as we climbed out of Carlos’s beat-up sedan.

“Good luck with the flowers,” Lilly said cheerfully as she slammed her door closed.

“Remember, it doesn’t have to all be roses,” I said.

Teresa pulled away as Lilly and I strolled into another shiny lobby. It was one of the few hotels we didn’t look at for reception space (it was just too weird with Emily living there). But our friend’s new home was only a block away from Teresa’s chosen venue.

We walked past the lobby bar to the reception desk.

“Emily Montgomery’s room please,” I said to the clerk, who didn’t look much older than we did.

She smiled as she tucked her blond hair behind her ear and checked her computer screen.

“Oh, she’s a resident,” the girl said. “I’ll let her know that you’re here.”

“No, please don’t,” I said quickly. “We want to surprise her. We’re her friends.”

The girl tilted her head. “I really should call first.”

“Please, we’re not ax murderers. We’re just her friends. It’s a surprise.”

The clerk grinned and looked the other way. “It’s room 1405. I didn’t see anything.”

Lilly and I swiftly darted toward the gold-trimmed elevators and sped up to the fourteenth floor. When we stepped into the cold, impersonal hallway, I was hit with a wave of sadness. I couldn’t believe Emily lived here. This wasn’t a home. There was no front porch or family photos, no fireplace or smell of cooking. Lilly glanced at a sign near the elevator.

“Her room’s this way.” She pointed.

I followed Lilly down the generic corridor past the identical beige doorways until we stopped at 1405.

“Home sweet home,” I muttered before knocking.

I could hear someone moving inside.

“Em? Em, it’s Lilly and Mariana,” I said as I knocked again.

I heard a door slam shut inside and then the hurried sounds of footsteps. Finally, the handle turned.

“What are you guys doing here?” Emily asked nervously as she opened the door, her forehead beaded with sweat.

“Gee, great to see you too,” I said, rolling my eyes as I pushed past her and into the room.

When she told us that she was going to live in a hotel with her father, I assumed it would be something akin to a condo with a full kitchen and a dining area. But their suite simply looked like a large hotel room. Sure, there were two bedrooms and a common sitting area, but that was it. There was nothing it in that resembled a home. It even had the same blue patterned carpeting as the rest of the hotel.

“So this is where you live?” Lilly asked in an equally shocked tone.

“Um, yeah,” Emily said, grabbing a towel off the wing-back chair so we could sit down. “It’s only temporary. My dad’s looking at apartments.”

“Has he found one?” I asked, my eyebrows raised.

I would think getting his daughter into a more suitable living situation would be a father’s top priority.

“He’s trying. But he works a lot. His assistant found a couple places.”

“Well, thank God for the assistant,” Lilly muttered as she plopped down on a small couch.

“Em, you know you have to live in Spring Mills to go to Spring Mills High School,” I pointed out as I sat down.

“Well, my mom’s house is still there. As long as she ‘claims’ me, I’m fine.” Emily put finger quotes around the word and rolled her eyes.

“Em, look, I realize things are bad with your mom right now, but this can’t be much better.” I waved my hands around the room, which was littered with old newspapers and wet towels; clearly the maid service hadn’t arrived yet.

“I can take care of myself,” Emily huffed.

“How? By calling room service? By having a corporate driver take you to school?”

Emily grunted. “Beats the hell out of my mom’s place. And now I can do practically anything I want.”

Just then, something crashed inside the closed bathroom door. My head jerked as I rose to my feet.

“What was that?” I asked.

I could feel Lilly breathing right behind me.

“Is there someone in there?” Lilly asked.

“No,” Emily said quickly as she jumped between us and the door. “I’m sure something just fell.”

“What, from all the wind swirlin’ around in here?” Lilly mocked.

“Em, what’s going on?” I stepped toward her.

She moved back, protecting the door. “Nothing. There’s nothing going on. And you know, you guys really should have called first.”

“Uh, obviously. Looks like you’ve got someone hiding in your bathroom.” I squinted my eyes as if I didn’t recognize the person standing before me.

“I do not. It’s just that the place is a mess. I would’ve cleaned up if I knew you were coming. And I just got out of the shower a second ago, so I’m sure the shampoo just slipped. The ledges in the shower suck, they’re really tiny…”

Emily was talking so rapidly it was hard to follow her train of thought. But one thing was clear: she was lying. If she had recently showered, then she a) wouldn’t have been sweating when we showed up and b) her hair would be wet.

I stared at Emily, not moving and not saying anything.

“It’s just kind of a bad time right now. But I’m really glad you guys stopped by. It was very cool of you. Why are you here anyway?” Her gaze shot rapidly between Lilly and me.

“We were looking at reception sites with Teresa,” Lilly explained, as she grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the hotel room door.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Lilly said under her breath.

“I’m sorry you aren’t able to stay longer. Maybe we can set something up for next time,” Emily said as she hurried us to the door.

I stopped abruptly and stared at her. “Do I want to know who’s in that bathroom?”

“There’s no one in there,” she lied. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on.”

“You know you’re getting really good at that,” I noted, my tone flat.

“At what?”

“At lying.”