Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I rolled my eyes.
“No, it’s not that anything’s gone wrong, I just want to cancel,” I said insistently. “Is there some way to do that?”
“I’m sorry, but no,” the woman repeated again, her voice sympathetic. “But maybe I can help you in some other way. My name is Lindy. Who were you booked with?”
“Robert,” I said in a short voice. “I just made the booking last night. In fact, it was only six hours ago.”
Because after entering my credit card number, I returned to my novel, but despite the steamy text, couldn’t keep my eyes open. I fell asleep on the couch in my clothes, and woke up mere hours later feeling gross and crusty, my dress all wrinkled. I stretched a little while holding the phone to my ear.
“Do you see it?” I asked with a big yawn. “It should be there. The site took my credit card.”
“Hold please,” the woman said pleasantly before disappearing. Elevator music filled my ears.
Hmm, this was weird. Was she checking on something in the system? Talking with her supervisor? It was about seven a.m. on Friday morning, and I had to give Gold Medallion credit for even picking up.
But the hold became longer and longer and longer until I was tapping my foot impatiently while fuming into the phone. I swear, I listened Boy George’s Do You Really Want to Hurt Me and the Pet Shop Boys’ Go West in full before Lindy finally came back on.
“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to call you back about your booking. Can I get your number please?”
I was dumbfounded.
“Why, what’s wrong?” I asked. “And you have my number already. I entered it in last night.”
Some more keys clacked away.
“Oh that’s right,” she said cheerily. “Sorry, my bad. But yes, we’ll get back to you about this one, Ms. Martin. I apologize for the wait.”
And with that, the receiver clicked off. I was stunned. Was there something about my profile that was a trigger? I could see why they wanted to vet any potential clients, but at the same time, the money had already been paid. That should be the most important thing, right?
Unfortunately, there was no time to mull things over because I had to get to work. Another day at the Star Gazette beckoned, and I wouldn’t be able to pay my rent if I played hooky one more time.
Sighing, I rolled off the couch and into the shower, the hot water waking me up a little. I sudsed my hair and considered giving Gold Medallion another call later in the day, but then decided against it. After all, they should be calling me. They were now in possession of my money, and I should be treated as a VIP client.
But my phone didn’t ring that afternoon, nor the day after. And when I called over the weekend, another woman picked up who seemed to have no idea what I was talking about.
“I spoke with Lindy last time?” I asked in an agitated voice. “By the way, here’s my confirmation number.”
The receptionist listened and took the number down, tapping it into her keyboard. But just like before, she disappeared for a while, putting me on hold. This time, I listened to Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and Madonna’s Material Girl. Odd. Why didn’t they play some elevator music, or at least some recent Top 40 hits? Seems that Gold Medallion was stuck in the eighties when it came to their taste in music.
And when the woman came back on, she was less than helpful.
“I’m sorry but your order is still processing,” she said regretfully. “Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?”
This time, I was furious.
“What do you mean, still processing?” I said in a tight voice. “What’s going on?”
The woman clucked with sympathy.
“Management has certain policies and procedures that must be followed for new clients,” she said, “and your order is still being processed. We’ll be in touch once your order goes through.”
“Wait,” I said huffily. “What does that mean? How can my order still be in process? What is there to process exactly? You already took my credit card.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to say,” replied the woman smoothly. “But Ms. Martin, please rest assured that your order is of the highest priority to us. Management is aware of your request and is working to expedite it on all levels.”
Wow, that was a bunch of PR-speak if I’d ever heard any. Management is aware of your request? Expediting my order? I was “high priority”? Yeah, right. But again, I hung up, frustrated and confused. Because what could I do? It’d only been a few days, and maybe these things did take a while to go through. Maybe Robert was in the North Pole right now talking with penguins, and they couldn’t reach him via satellite phone. Who knew?