Chapter 4 Which Suite do You Prefer

Jack glanced at the two high-ranking managers in front of him and felt like he was spoiled for choice, not to mention all the impeccably dressed and tall servers he saw on his way here.

Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang: "Oh, okay, I'll tell them right away."

He turned to ask Mr. Thompson, "So, the secretary is having breakfast, and Mr.

Williams has booked a suite here.

He wants to take a look first, can one of your staff take him for a tour?"

Mr. Thompson said, "Miss Smith, I asked you this morning to confirm the room.

Hurry to Building Four to wait, and if the customer has any opinions, make sure to solve them immediately."

Alice sighed slightly, smiling, "I'll be right there."

She walked quickly, the cold wind turning her cheeks slightly red.

When she reached the lobby of Building Four, she quickly straightened her hair against the shiny copper pillars.

Just as she turned back, a man in a black suit approached.

Alice glanced at the black Bentley parked outside, her heart racing with suspicion.

She looked around but didn't see the secretary Jack mentioned.

That's when her phone rang, it was Mr.

Thompson called to explain.

She was almost overwhelmed; it was actually Mr.

Williams himself.

She hurried forward to greet him, "Hello, are you Mr. Williams?"

The tall, young man in front of her looked familiar, and after a few seconds of confusion, she managed to pinpoint him as the man she met at the bakery café that day from the vast database of her memory.

After a moment of shock, she remembered being astonished at his perfect demeanor that day--turns out he really was an impressive character.

She mused for a moment, then composed herself and offered her hand for a self-introduction, though he didn't respond.

Alice merely smiled, taking his aloofness as a sign of pride--after all, as a hotel employee, she was well-acquainted with such behavior.

She repeated, "So nice to meet you," and watched his eyes.

His gaze was calm and reserved, in line with his demeanor, though there was a hint of fatigue in his expression, and his eyes seemed to bore directly into her, as if deep in thought.

John showed no reaction, but in fact, he had just remembered that warm smile from the winter afternoon, instantly recognizing her as the girl who served him at the bakery café, the hotel manager who brought him his Salted Caramel Cupcake and a cup of latte.

However, her smile that day had been sweet and pure, yet strangely empty, like a rose in full bloom that, in fact, had long been battered by the autumn wind.

He smiled slightly and shook Alice's hand, which was long, strong, warm, and dry.

Alice slightly bowed her head, admiring his neat and clean nails.

Behind her, a young server gasped, and Alice glared at them, subtly reminding them not to act foolishly at a critical moment, while presenting the hotel's offerings: "We have two suites that meet your requirements, one being the presidential suite on the second floor, and the other a celebrity suite on the third. Please take a look and decide."

John walked beside her, slightly tilting his head to look at this young woman in her proper and slim uniform, whose voice was soft and pleasant, also like a spring breeze.

He couldn't say he knew her well, but he remembered that day, she just gave a wee smile, always giving the impression she was preoccupied.

Her profession had protected her too well, hiding any inner clues from view.

"Mr Williams…," Alice hesitated to call out, "Here we are."

She secretly pitied the staff who would serve Mr.

Williams, as cold and unapproachable as he was.

Yet, she had to stay focused because she was the one in trouble now.

"Mm."

John stepped into the room.

He casually looked around the living room, study, balcony, bedroom, and bathroom, saying nothing.

Alice could only continue, "Mr. Williams, there's another celebrity suite upstairs if you'd like to take a look."

"Sure, thank you."

John nodded in acknowledgment.

Alice led him upstairs to the next suite.

This suite was one of Alice's personal favorites, with a cool color scheme that was simple yet not overstated, though slightly smaller than the last.

John stood on the balcony, facing a serene lake, greeting the cold, damp air.

Alice stood behind him, gazing at his tall, upright silhouette, vaguely recalling someone she once loved who had shoulders just as broad.

"Miss Smith, which suite do you prefer?"

John asked casually.

Alice collected herself, "If it were up to me, I'd naturally prefer this one."

She just smiled and tilted her head to look at his reaction, thinking that a single man in the electronic technology industry would naturally favor a minimalist style.

"Then let's go with this one."

He nodded and a slight smile appeared.

Alice sighed in relief and asked, "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

John sat down on the sofa, fighting off the light dizziness from the alcohol: "I'll go with this room."

—Originally, it was the Secretary who was supposed to check the room.

But John suddenly felt quite uncomfortable and decided to come and take a rest.

Alice paused, quickly nodding, "Have a good rest.

The staff at the front desk will bring the key card over in a bit."

John couldn't help but glance back as that slim figure disappeared--he slowly retracted his gaze.