"Rey! Key! How my best gals doing?!" Chelsea struts in with a sheepish smile, removing her sunglasses.

     Chelsea Vaughn. Where did I even begin with her? 

     In fact, I wasn't even surprised at this point that she was here. A woman like her was the Marylin Monroe to pretty much most men according to my brother.

     I can see why. She was everything I clearly wasn't. Perfectly flawless skin, fit hourglass figured body, and her dashing looks are just the cherry on top he informed us. In other words, she's literally the vision of what the 'perfect' yet highly unrealistic woman was to them.

     Yet, in my opinion...she's the exact opposite. 

     Chelsea was the kind of woman who had everything going for her appearance wise, but in her dating life she was known for being very busy with a new boyfriend every week that usually got what they wanted out of her, and dumped her fast—which is why she keeps coming back here. Like a lot.

     I honestly feel bad for her. But shockingly, it seems she didn't mind it at all. She just moves onto the next leading man in her life without a care only to come back here days later, leave, and do it all over again. 

     I was usually her go-to girl her entire visit due to her being so meticulous. She takes great joy going on and on about her life and the kind of man she looks for. He who would put himself out there, have a lot in common with her, have a lot of money, and treat her so special and amazing. The kind of man I wanted in my life too in a way. 

    But with her looking like well...her, one question always races in my head each time. Why did she keep wanting to get hurt intentionally? It just didn't make any sense. 

    "Miss Chelsea! Welcome back! Who's the loser of love this week?" Reya wonders as I continue attending to my own duities.

    "Some clown name John. Or is it Joey? Mark? Either way, boy had the nerve to hook up with my younger sister after a date with me. Can you believe it?" Chelsea replies shrugging—like it's nothing more to her than just a mild inconvenience.

    "Well fear not! That's why we're here for a reason! How many days this time?" Reya asks next.

    "How about indefinitely?" We all suddenly hear Eddie say, entering the room. Turning around to face him, he grins flirtatiously over to her, jumping on top of the counter in front of us—eying her down like she was the juiciest piece of meat he had ever seen in his life. He did this all the time too. "Now I know you love to remind me each time how much you're way out of my league, but just think, Chels! Isn't there at least a tiny part of you that does want me?" He questions in a raspy voice.

      I roll my eyes toward him on how he was putting out his best moves he thought he possessed. He was a nonchalant kind of guy half the time and always acted like getting rejected wasn't a big deal for him. Deep down inside though, I knew he had feelings too. I saw them firsthand.

     In fact, this concept ended with him. 

      A girl he met online completely catfished him. He was a train wreck for weeks. Though, I knew one day my brother would find the one. It just probably wouldn't be Chelsea. He was too laid back and casual. No guy like that could ever compete for her attention, knowing she would shoot them right down. She told me so. But a girl was definitely somewhere for him. Probably at a hot dog eating contests but she was out there.

     Looking at him bitterly, Chelsea soon turns to Reya and I again while pointing to him. "Can you also make sure he stays away from me too like last time?"

      I let out a small giggle as Eddie's smile diminishes to an offended one. Reya smirks, agreeing. "Sure, no problem! One sec!" She becomes giddy. In one swift motion, she raises her hand up and hits him in the back of the head while he quickly squeals girlishly. Jumping down from the counter and behind it—he stands like a statue now next to us. "You're all set!" Reya proceeds to give her the card key to her room.

     Chelsea flashes a smile and nods. "Grazie! Oh by the way Key, around five, I'll be ordering room service for dinner. Do you mind telling the kitchen staff how I usually like it? If my eggs are touching my meat even slightly, I can't eat it anymore. It's a texture thing for me that I hate. You do such a good job at explaining it exactly. You're the only person here that knows how!" She's confident.

     "Will do!" I assure her, hiding my real thoughts behind my grimacing grin.

     "Perfect! That's why I always come to you!" She happily saunters off. Eddie continues checking her out, impressed. 

      I scoff a bit, shaking my head. "Eddie, you're a pig!" I let out the moment she was out of ears length.

     He faces me and holds his hands up defensively. "Hey! What's the problem?! It's not like I'm the fortunate man that can actually do anything with a body like that! Company policy, remember?" He reminds me.

     But I surely didn't need one. There was one strict and unchangeable rule that we had to abide by if we wanted to keep working here at the hotel.

      No fraternizing with the guests. No exceptions. 

     Whatever they do is solely their business. I completely understand and was perfectly fine with that. It helped any potential confusions, lack of professionalism...well, the best professionalism we could do, or anything else that could give our establishment a bad name. Made life in the workplace simply easier.

     "Why is this computer suddenly not working?!" Reya exclaims, beginning to hit the machine with the phone. I quickly pull her off. But yet...the computer still won and crashed. "Eddie, why are you here right now if it's not fixing stuff?!" She questions agitated, pulling him over.

     "Because I like to annoy my younger and whiny sisters." He teases. I peer to him annoyed, hitting him upside his head next as he yelps again. "Girl!" He becomes angry. I laugh.

     "Good! Now see what's wrong with this thing, before I hit you again and harder. It's not saving Chelsea's special needs and daily itinerary for her stay this time for some reason!" Reya explains.

     "More like weekly schedule." I mutter to myself. 

      Apparently hearing me however, they laugh as well and glance to me. "What's wrong Kia? Are you not a big fan of Miss Chelsea Vaughn?" Reya grins.

      Was I truly ever? She was sorta nice for the most part which was a refreshing change. She just has many well...demands and requirements, loving to nitpick on every little thing one did if it was wrong. A huge diva in my opinion but she admired that quality about herself the most. She came to me on her visits because I was the only one who could put up with her. It was like having that one friend in a group most didn't want to deal with, knowing many of their dislikes and very few likes—yet remained cordial. But still, she's someone I have to get to know to an extent with the amount of money she shells out to my family every visit—always leaving after with a smile.

     "Not really. I mean, come on guys! She's been here already ten times this month...and ten times every month before. We know more about her personal life than the IRS at this point." I express.

     "Tell me about it. Just think though. Her credit card is now our new best friend." Eddie adds on.

     "Eddie!" I whisper-yell.

     "What?! He actually does have a point for once. It's not like we're going out there breaking her up with all her gentlemen callers. She's doing that all on her own. Unless we can try-" Reya starts to say as the wheels turn in her head.

      I know she's thinking about doing exactly that to other customers. Again, policy. "No!" I sternly warn.

      She shrugs and hesitantly agrees. She loved helping people too, I promise. She just loved the money aspect of it more. "Yea, you're probably right." She admits. Probably? More like completely. "Well then, maybe she just likes our amenities. She still pays for everything just fine." She points out. 

     I sigh. It was a thought. "Maybe...I still can't help but to wonder."

     Something else has to be up with her. She's the world's most picket and serial dater ever. "Good. Can you also wonder who's coming in now too, while I go help out the joker here? Oh! And make sure you write out what she'll need on a paper please. Thanks so much! What would I do without you in my life?!" She whines mockingly in the voice of Chelsea sarcastically at the end of her sentence.

     Glaring at her tone, she laughs again as the entrance from the corner of my eye opens. Not looking up yet, they both soon leave, carrying the portable data server. I begin doing the requested task—writing everything Chelsea is going to require and need before she leaves in case the computer can't be fixed.

     I know. It was pathetic I knew more about what that girl did and didn't do at the top of my head, than she probably did about herself. She made me remember it repeatedly in case for whatever reason I might've forgotten.

      Feeling someone now walk up to the desk while standing so calmly and patiently, I speed scribble everything down so I won't miss anything if I tear my attention away. If anything came up wrong with this thing, Miss Chelsea was sure going to call me out for it.

      "Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel! My name is Kiana, are you here to check in?"

     "Uh yes please. Um, sorry...uh...this feel pretty awkward. I'm new here and I don't know really how this kind of stuff works. I-I-is this um the right place? I have a reservation." A gentle male voice then speaks, sounding very unsure.

      I smile confidently nodding, admiring his slight reservedness and nervous ticks. People who usually came here for the first visits tend to act like this. He can trust us from here on out that he was definitely in good hands. "No problem! I have a few rooms available right now, so no need for a later check-in. May I please have your name sir-" I begin to say, finally peering up.

     But when I do...he takes my breath literally away. 

     Catching what was left of it, I hitch a little not believing what I see right in front of my eyes. Shyly smiling and getting flushed, I become extremely heated. My body tenses as well.

     He's so...so...sexy. By far the most deliciously seductive man I'd ever seen walk in here—or even in my life. Asian decent, fair skinned, perfectly kind dark green eyes, soft and flowing dark brunette hair styled back so effortlessly, and his perfectly toned and buffed muscles. God those muscles. I want to jump over this counter to get a better close up to see if they were all real. From what I can tell, they definitely are. Was he even really real?

     Oddly enough, he does looks a bit familiar to me. Like I'd seen him before somehow and somewhere...but just couldn't put a finger on it yet.

     Awkwardly, I clear my throat and bite my lip with a soft sigh. "Oh um...hi!" 

     He chuckles slightly, nodding and smiling back. "Hey, how are you?" 

     I can feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks even just by that one question. His voice is so addicting and luscious too. Can he talk to me everyday? "I'm um...Kiana. I mean, g-good! I-I-I'm doing good. And you?" I'm flustering.

    "I'm doing as fine as I can be. I just got out of a very bad relationship and uh, my friend recommended this place to me. Said it worked on him. So I thought why not give it a try myself? I honestly feel really stupid about coming here. I know you'll probably think I'm pathetic-" He starts to explain still highly reserved.

     I giggle. I love how timid he is. Makes me feel better about my personality. "Oh never. We would never think that. I mean, everyone who comes here is just looking for a way to be happy again. Breakups suck. We just provide a way for them to suck well...less." I tell him kindly. 

     He takes a breath out in relief. "Whew! Good. Thanks for making me feel better already. You're truly good at this, huh?!" I laugh once more and shake my head.

    "I don't think so. I mean, I do just fine as I can..." I admit. He stares to me carefully before letting out a genuine smile this time, biting his bottom lip down.

     Oh those soft, plumped, buttery, and inviting lips. Not to mention that ravishing sexy grin. 

     "Well that's all I can ask for. Um...name is Nicholas Rhodes. But please, feel free to just call me Nick."

      I nod, finding enough strength in me to type his name as his information pulls up. The moment it does...my eyes nearly pop out of my skull.

     At that very moment, it all instantly clicks. Looking up to him once more, my heart beats faster, my palms sweat, my tongue suddenly dries up, and my knees feel like they were seconds away from collapsing. I know why he looks familiar now.

     Nicholas Rhodes isn't just another lonely soul that walked into the Heartbreak Hotel. Nick Rhodes was the 'perfect' guy I was hopelessly in love with back in high school. The one that got away.

     "Dear god..." I breathlessly whisper.