Chapter 2: Humiliation and the Public Showdown

She looked smug, like she’d just won. Seeing my shocked expression, I caught a flash of triumph in the receptionist’s eyes.

She couldn’t hide it—her lips curled into a half-smile. Unbelievable. She looked almost pleased with herself. My anger flared hotter.

Her name tag read: Madison Porter.

I made a mental note. Madison Porter. I wasn’t going to forget that name. Not a chance. I took a photo of her name tag, just in case. She wasn’t getting away with this.

"I want to talk to your manager. Now."

My voice was sharp, echoing off the marble floor. People turned to stare. I didn’t care. I was done playing nice.

Enough was enough. If she wanted to stonewall me, two can play at that game.

Two can play at that game. I was ready to escalate. I’d been through enough corporate red tape to know how to push back.

She froze for a second when she heard I wanted her superior. Her bravado slipped. She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. Her fingers drummed nervously on the counter.

Her bravado slipped. She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. Her fingers drummed nervously on the counter. "If you can’t afford it, why are you even trying to stay at a four-star hotel? And our hotel has never had a low price like $119 a night! You probably got scammed."

Her voice was a mix of condescension and defensiveness, like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. Oh, please, I thought, my blood pressure rising.

I looked at her and smiled, all teeth. "Are you the hotel owner? How do you know there isn’t such a price?"

My smile was all teeth. She blinked, caught off guard. The line behind me was getting restless, people whispering. Let them stare. I didn’t care. I wasn’t backing down.

There’s a first time for everything.

I remembered the banner: “10th Anniversary Special! Limited rooms, $119/night!” I even screenshotted it. I pulled it up, ready to show anyone who’d listen.

Our argument started drawing a crowd. People started to crowd around, eager for drama.

Even her coworker looked nervous. A colleague next to Madison tugged at her sleeve under the desk, giving her a look.

I saw the silent exchange—her coworker’s eyes wide, a warning in her expression.

Finally. Madison’s bravado faltered for a split second.

Suddenly she was all sweetness. She caught on and her tone softened. "Let me take you to the lounge. If you have any complaints, I’ll help you call the manager."

Her voice was suddenly syrupy sweet. Yeah, right, I thought. She gestured for me to follow, as if she was doing me a favor.

I hesitated, but figured it was better than causing a bigger scene in the lobby.

I thought she was finally going to solve the problem, so I followed her to a reception room. Maybe this was it, I hoped.

The lounge was quiet, cool, and smelled faintly of coffee.

Plush chairs, fake plants, and a TV playing muted weather updates. At least it was quiet. I sat down, still clutching my phone like a lifeline.

Before leaving, she even poured me a glass of water. Like that would fix anything, I thought.

She set it on the table, the glass sweating in the air-conditioned room.

"Someone will be with you shortly," she said, her smile brittle. Yeah, right.

But I waited there for an hour. I tapped my foot, checked the door, nothing.

The clock on the wall ticked louder with every minute. I checked my phone, refreshed my email, paced the room. No one came. The water went warm. My patience frayed to the breaking point. Dammit.

I grabbed my bag and headed out. I couldn’t take it anymore and went out to use the restroom.

I needed a break from the four walls and my own boiling thoughts. Enough was enough.

The hallway was empty, the carpet muffling my footsteps.

I pushed open the restroom door, just wanting a moment to collect myself.

I paused, just inside, when I overheard two hotel staff chatting. Might as well eavesdrop, I thought.

Their voices echoed off the tile. I froze, not wanting to interrupt, but their conversation caught my ear.

"All the managers are in a meeting today, otherwise we could chill out."

"It’s the first day of the holiday, and we’re so slammed. Even bathroom breaks are tough."

So Madison never called the manager—she just left me waiting for nothing! Of course she did.

My jaw clenched. She’d played me for a fool. Unbelievable. I felt the sting of humiliation, but now I was just mad.

I splashed cold water on my face and stormed out, determined not to let her get away with it.

No more Ms. Nice Guest. At that point, I couldn’t hold it in and stormed straight to the lobby front desk.

My footsteps echoed as I crossed the lobby, all eyes on me. Let them stare. I didn’t care. I was done being polite.

As soon as I got there, I saw Madison greeting a family, her two-faced act in full swing.

Her voice was honey-sweet, her posture perfect. I almost gagged at how fake she sounded.

She fussed over their bags, ignoring the growing line behind them.

The man next to Madison puffed out his chest, glancing around as if daring anyone to contradict him. Show-off, I thought.

The parents beamed, clearly impressed. Must be nice, I thought.

When the older couple heard how expensive it was, they warmed up to Madison even more. I rolled my eyes.

They clucked their tongues, nodded approvingly, and patted her arm.

Madison soaked up the praise like a sponge.

Madison escorted them to the elevator, then turned back to the front desk and saw me standing there, face dark. She paused, tension thick in the air.

Our eyes met. Her smile faltered. I stood my ground, not about to let her off easy.

This time, I didn’t hold back. Enough was enough.

"All your managers are at a headquarters meeting—you lied and made me wait an hour for nothing!" I said, voice rising. "Clearly, you never intended to solve my problem! I’m going to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau!"

My voice was sharp, cutting through the lobby noise. A few people glanced over, eyebrows raised. I wanted her to feel every word. My hands shook, but I kept my chin up.

I thought Madison would back down at the mention of a complaint, but instead she crossed her arms and got even more sarcastic. I couldn’t believe it.

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Only broke people go whining to the BBB. You get what you pay for. You pay so little and expect four-star service? Give me a break!"

She tossed her hair, her tone dripping with disdain. I clenched my jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

I could hear a few snickers from the peanut gallery. Of course, people always love a little drama.

She raised her voice even more: "Everyone, look! This person wants to stay at our hotel for just $119! Our lowest price is $159 a night! Can’t stay, and now she’s making a scene!"

Heads turned. I felt a dozen eyes on me. My hands balled into fists at my sides. I wasn’t going to let her shame me out of what I’d paid for.

People who didn’t know the truth started talking. I could hear their whispers swirling around me.

"I’m a hotel member and usually pay $155 a night."