Below you’ll find my (unedited) entry for Round 1 of the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2024.
My assignment was:
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Subject: Shelf life
Character: A hotel worker
“Thank you for walking me back to my hotel…” The young woman blinked up at the tall, dark-haired man in the expensive suit.
“My pleasure,” he answered. His voice was deep, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. The woman bit her lip.
“Would you like to come up for a drink?”
“I’d love to.”
She smiled and pushed the elevator button, while he put his hand on the small of her back. When a soft ding signaled the elevator’s arrival, he guided her onto it.
From her position at the front desk Eve could see them lean into each other as the doors closed, but she tried to focus on the audit she was supposed to be doing.
Working the front desk of a hotel provided plenty of opportunities to people-watch, something she had always delighted in doing, but which was hardly appropriate and definitely not conducive to getting her work done in time.
This seemed to be especially true during the overnight shift. It wasn’t so much the lateness of the hour that bothered her; it was that the relative quiet of the lobby at night made it easy for her mind – and her eyes – to wander. She was much more efficient during the day, when countless guests, minor emergencies, and the general hustle and bustle of the hotel business demanded all of her attention.
Around midnight she took a break from her paperwork and crossed the floor of the lobby to make sure the doors were locked, before grabbing the vacuum cleaner from the supply closet next to the elevators. Most of the lobby was carpeted, which might look nice, but was obviously a design decision made by someone who’d never had to do a lot of cleaning.
#
Around 1.30 a.m. the buzzer alerted her to a visitor. Eve looked up to see a young woman waving at her from behind the glass doors, a long, narrow bag slung over her right shoulder.
“Hi!” the woman greeted her, rolling a suitcase into the lobby and blowing a few strands of dark blonde hair out of her face.
“I’m so sorry for checking in at this time! I did call ahead; I hope it’s okay?” She carefully lowered the tall bag to the floor and pulled her wallet out of the pocket of her long, mint green trench coat.
“No problem at all.” Eve smiled at the young woman as she started the check-in process. “Oh, and I love your earrings.”
“Thank you!” The woman lightly fingered the little pink-glazed donuts in her ears, as if to check which ones she was wearing. A few blue and green stains on her fingers caught Eve’s eye, and something clicked.
“Oh! Are you the painter that asked to do some still lifes here?”
“Yes! What gave it away?”
Before Eve even had time to answer, the woman – whose name was listed as Fran on her reservation – held her hands in front of her face and sighed.
“Never mind.”
Eve laughed.
“So, once I’m fully awake tomorrow morning, who should I contact to get access to your storage room?”
“Just come to the front desk,” Eve answered, “whoever’s on shift then should already be expecting you, but I’ll leave a note for them just in case.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Just out of curiosity,” Eve asked, “why our storage space?”
“I’m working on a series of paintings called ‘Shelf Life’,” Fran answered, “a variation on the classic still lifes, where instead of painting bowls of fruit or big banquets, I depict food that has a long shelf life.”
“I hope our shelves won’t disappoint you.” Eve handed Fran her room key. “Enjoy your stay, and please don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything!”
“Thank you, I will!” The young painter picked up her bag and headed towards the elevators.
#
When Eve clocked in for her next shift, the lobby was filled with attendees of a renowned botany convention, and her newest colleague, Mark, was doing his best to reason with two fifty-something white men in business attire.
“Yes, I understand,” he said, his voice polite but clipped, “however, the reservations your company made are for our standard rooms, and I’m afraid I cannot accommodate your request to switch rooms, as we are fully booked.”
Eve logged onto the system and asked the next guest in line to step forward, while the men loudly voiced their displeasure at this turn of events.
A young Latina woman approached the desk, her outfit similar to that of the other people in business casual currently hanging around the lobby, but the dark purple streaks in her long black hair made her stand out from the other guests.
“Hi, I’m sorry about them,” she said, motioning to the men who were still berating Mark for something he had no control over. The man closest to her shot her a look of disdain and opened his mouth to speak, but paused when his gaze landed on her name tag. He snapped his mouth shut, turned back to Mark, and told him to just hurry up and check them in.
Eve glanced at the woman’s name tag as well.
Daniela Ramírez. Keynote speaker.
Daniela’s demeanor was the opposite of that of Mark’s guests. She exuded the kind of calm Eve could only hope to attain someday, and her green-brown eyes shone with kindness.
When Daniela walked away, Eve noticed how several of the other guests turned their heads in her direction. Daniela seemed oblivious to the attention she attracted, until Fran, dressed in paint-splattered overalls and carrying her easel, crossed her path.
The painter’s gaze seemed to be drawn to Daniela as well, and the women’s eyes met. Fran grinned at Daniela, who ducked her head in response.
Just in time to greet her next guest, Eve tore her attention away from Daniela, who turned her head to watch Fran walk away.
#
Trying to catch the interactions between Fran and Daniela quickly became Eve’s new favorite pastime. They seemed to run into each other in the lobby much more frequently than Daniela’s busy schedule and Fran’s storage room activities would seem to allow for. And whenever they did, they would exchange the kind of looks that made Daniela blush, and which Eve pretended not to notice, yet secretly rejoiced in.
Near the end of Eve’s shift, Fran came up to the front desk to ask for restaurant recommendations. As Sonya had already arrived to take over front desk duties, Eve was able to make some small talk with Fran, who seemed a little distracted when she watched Daniela and a few of her colleagues head over to the elevators.
“So, what made you decide to focus on shelf life?”
“Well,” Fran replied, turning back to Eve, “partly because I thought it would be fun to do a modern take on such a classic type of painting, but I have to admit that I also just really enjoy getting to take a peek at people’s shelves. You can tell a lot about someone by the food they stock.” She absentmindedly rubbed her paint-stained hands together.
“And,” she continued, “the professional storage rooms provide a nice contrast to the private ones. Mostly. Let’s just say there’s at least one restaurant I won’t be dining at anymore.” She made a face.
“Your shelves look great though! And everyone’s been really helpful, and very good at pretending that I’m not in their way.”
Eve smiled. “From what I’ve heard, they’re not pretending at all.”
Fran beamed at her as she ran both hands through her hair. This time it wasn’t the paint stains which caught Eve’s attention, but a wedding ring.
Careful not to let the disappointment she felt show on her face, she smiled as the painter headed back to clean up.
#
After she’d clocked out and was headed to her car, she heard laughter coming from the hotel’s entrance. She looked up to see Fran and Daniela head in the direction of the restaurant she’d recommended to Fran earlier, deeply engrossed in conversation, the backs of their hands lightly touching with every step they took.
She was too far away to know for certain, but Eve could’ve sworn Fran’s hands now looked suspiciously free of rings.
#
As Eve was called to the dining area the next morning, she almost immediately caught sight of Fran, whose bright red overalls stood out among a sea of black and gray suits and blazers.
She didn’t need to follow her gaze to know the painter was looking at Daniela. The twinkle in her eyes said it all.
Eve turned to Sonya, who’d called her over, and helped settle the disagreement with a guest who had refused to supply his room number. When she turned to leave, she noticed Daniela steal a few glances at Fran while nodding politely at whatever her breakfast companions were saying.
Early in her career, Eve had attempted to prevent some guests from having the kind of affair Daniela seemed to be getting caught up in, but this had mostly resulted in being told, by guests and bosses alike, to stay out of other people’s business.
So she said nothing, and pretended not to notice how smitten Daniela looked whenever Fran was around.
#
After breakfast, Eve was answering some e-mails in between check-outs when she heard a by now familiar voice float through the lobby.
She glanced up to see Fran leaning against the wall near the entrance, her eyes trained on the floor.
“Look,” Fran said, “you really need to stay out of my business.”
Eve focused on her screen and tried to tune Fran’s voice out.
“Whatever’s going on between Dave and me is my problem. I’ll handle it.”
Part of Eve wished for the phone to ring, or for a disgruntled guest to show up and demand a refund. Anything that would require her full attention. Because the other part of her was dying to eavesdrop on Fran’s conversation, and she really disliked that side of herself.
“I’m telling you,” Fran continued, raising her voice as if she was trying to talk over the person on the other end of the line, “our relationship was always rocky, and I think it has simply reached its ‘best by’ date.”
Eve read the subject line of the e-mail on her screen for the fifth time.
“I’ll decide what’s best for me, thank you very much,” Fran’s voice was icy. “And I have decided that that’s definitely not what Dave has to offer.” She moved away from the wall and started walking towards the front desk.
Eve snapped her attention back to her computer and noticed that she’d been holding down the ‘R’ key. She sighed as she pressed backspace to delete three lines of ‘rrrrrrrrrrrrrr’.
“Now, big brother,” Fran said, “I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my business and just let me enjoy my time away from home.”
At that moment, the doors of both elevators opened, and a gaggle of conference attendees made their way to the front desk to check out.
#
At 11.45, with the majority of check-outs handled, Eve finally spotted Daniela.
She and Fran entered the lobby together, and Daniela appeared to be carrying one of Fran’s canvases.
“Hi Eve,” Fran greeted her, as Daniela smiled. “We’re here to check out.”
“Sure thing,” Eve said in the most professional tone she could muster, and she pulled up their accounts.
As the women put their key cards on the counter, Eve couldn’t help but notice how Daniela subtly touched Fran’s ring finger.
“Oh! Right.” Fran rummaged in her pockets and eventually pulled out her ring.
“Did you get paint on it again?” Daniela raised an eyebrow.
“Hmmm. Maybe.” Fran put the ring back on her finger as Daniela chuckled.
“Anyway. You’re going to pick up Mr. Whiskers from Ally’s, right?” Fran asked.
“Yes,” Daniela sighed, “but only if you take care of dinner tonight. You know I love Ally, but you also know that she’s a lot and will keep me there for at least an hour, which honestly sounds exhausting after the amount of socializing I had to do this week.” She put her head on Fran’s shoulder.
“I know,” Fran smiled, planting a kiss on top of her hair. “Don’t worry, I’ve got dinner covered.”
“You’re going to order pizza again, aren’t you?” Daniela mumbled. Fran grinned into her hair. “Who knows. I might surprise you and order sushi instead.”
Eve cleared her throat, and the women turned to look at her. She smiled at them, having finally connected the dots, thanks to the ring, and the fact that she’d seen the address listed on both of their accounts.
“You’re all set. I hope you enjoyed your stay!”
“We did, thank you,” Fran smiled.
“You know,” Daniela mused as she straightened up, “I think we should just get one room next time. I know I said I wanted to try to keep my private life separate from my work life, but… we were really bad at doing that.”
Fran beamed at her wife. “Yes. Weird how we kept running into each other…”
As they picked up their belongings, Eve motioned to the paintings.
“You know, I’d love to see the whole series sometime. Will they be on display somewhere?”
Fran frowned, and Daniela squeezed her hand.
“I had a deal with a guy who was setting up a gallery,” Fran said, “but yesterday he decided to demand a 90% commission, so I guess I’m going to have to start looking for a new place now.”
“I always knew Dave was an asshole,” Daniela muttered.
“I know, I should’ve listened to you.”
“Obviously.” Daniela smirked, and Fran’s face broke into a smile.
They exchanged goodbyes and Eve watched them walk away.
When Fran stopped for a second to keep her bag from slipping off of her shoulder, Daniela drew her in for a kiss.
Eve looked away, more determined than ever to stay out of her guests’ private lives.
I ended up placing 4th in my group, and advancing to Round 2.
(I’d like to say I’ll post a polished version of this story one day, but knowing me, I probably won’t.)
If you’re interested in the feedback I received from the judges, you can read that here:
WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY – {1543} Eve is the eye of a hurricane, a calm center in the midst of hotel lobby chaos. This eye also makes her a keen observer. Though Eve is an observer rather than an actor of the stories happening around her, her observations have their own story arc, and she commits to a change at the end. Eve is too invested in the private lives of everyone who passes through the hotel. She’s easily distracted by romance and dalliances. Her imagination takes flight because…she’s bored. But her investment in Daniela and Fran’s relationship changes when she thinks that Fran is having an affair. However, she doesn’t make a judgement about it; she still can’t stop paying attention. Her determination to stay focused on her job is certainly sincere, but likely has the shelf life of a ripe pear – especially after the satisfaction of the twist that Fran and Daniela are a married couple trying to keep it cool at a work event. {2306} I thought the incorporation of the shelf life prompt was cute and clever. The reveal that Franiela already know one another was unexpected and sweet, and I think that broadly you got the tone and pacing of the story just right. {1963} The unusual premise allies the reader with Eve the eavesdropper, placing both in the role of sleuth and observer. A farcical romance mystery makes for a unique genre mash up, and that helps the piece to stand out. In some ways I’m reminded of “Rear Window”.
WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK – {1543} Mark and Sonya are named, but that’s about it. Mark gets a little dialogue and description that shows how he feels about the two 50-something white men demanding an upgrade, but Sonya is really just a name. Let Mark stick around. In a short story, you want as few characters as possible. You have about 150 words left; maybe he tries to ask Eve a question (since he’s new) when she’s distracted by Fran and Daniela. It serves as a reminder that Eve needs to stay focused, and gives us a chance to get to know Mark a little more. {2306} I wanted more from Eve than to just be an incidental lens through which we watch the relationship between Fran and Daniela seem to unfold. Is there a way to give her more agency in the action of the story, if only to justify the amount of time spent with her? {1963} While I like a lot about the premise, Eve, if she is the protagonist, feels far too passive. It’s understandable that, being burned in the past for interfering, she would be reluctant to get involved in the current situation, but without her taking an active role in the story, it’s hard to justify her presence. On the other hand Fran and Daniela go through their various difficulties, but nothing really changes in their relationship, just the reader’s understanding of it. Maybe Eve needs to wrestle even more with her commitment to non-intervention, or the idea that she should stay completely out of the matters of others should be challenged in some way. The story has potential.
So Many What-Ifs 