The Wedding Project 💍

The Prologue

"Here they come."

Reginald St. Claire, concierge of the Southsea Hotel, stated this with little to no enthusiasm as he pointed towards the hydrofoil approaching that crossed the ocean between Haiti and their little Gundersson Island. His lips wouldn't move, wouldn't show a smile, as behind his forehead the upcoming scenario unfolded to an untold mess like every single time this kind of event would take place at his hotel. His coworkers, members of the core staff of the hotel, shared his mood.

"I hope that this time they will at least not burn anything down," Saffron, the chef, groaned in memory of the last wedding party.

Reginald nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything. With a few hand movements which he did on instinct he made sure that his concierge uniform sat straight on his body and gave him the most respectable appearance possible. He didn't always like his job - especially not at times like these - but he was proud of it. Still, thanks to his experience, he imagined the chaos that would be left behind once this wedding party would have checked out again and departed, not even wasting a thought on those who worked here and had to clean up everything. The rich folks were the worst of them all. No consideration for others, treating the hotel staff like their personal slaves, always demanding special treatment and readiness 24 hours a day, and NEVER giving a tip or even saying "Thank you". The richer the people were, the more unbearable.

Judging by the giant white yacht that was also approaching Gundersson Island in the distance, not even half as fast as the hydrofoil that was gunning through the ocean, those were very rich people. The yacht had announced their arrival as well and would even be anchored here for the time being. Just some way for the owner to put his wealth on display for all to see and admire. Reginald shook his head. Some people just had the nerve. And they'd be the worst tippers of them all.

"Has anyone seen Eddie?" he then asked and looked around to the staff members that had gathered to welcome the guests. Heads were shaken above neat and tidy staff uniforms from all the departments of the hotel. This was actually a good sign. Eddie was probably up to his ears in some maintenance work. And he wasn't a people person anyway. Still... Reginald knew that, once this whole thing was over, the majority of complaints and bickering about the guests and the condition the hotel was in would come from his direction. Eddie never held back when voicing his opinion.

The hydrofoil had reached the dock by now, and the first guests disembarked, helped by the crew of the boat. Surrounded by countless pieces of luggage they gathered on the wide wooden pier. The first impression he got from his actual guests matched his expectations. The faces of the ladies were hidden under sun hats as big as carriage wheels. Elegant summer dresses in bright colors were blowing in the warm breeze coming from the South Sea. One hand frequently grabbed those enormous hats to keep them from flying off, the other clutched a handbag that probably won a designer award and cost more than any member of the staff could make in a month. The same could probably be said for the shoes. Though he noticed one crucial difference: The younger of the two ladies stepping on the pier was not wearing heels. Instead, what Reginald could see under the long and flowing skirt were very fashionable sneakers. Maybe he had misjudged them.

More luggage was unloaded, and the male part of the family finally stepped onto land. "So that's what the heir to Shiro Technologies looks like," one member of the staff commented, but Reginald turned around and threw him one reprimanding glance. It was rude and unprofessional to talk about paying guests like this - as right as one may be. Because this was what he was expecting all along. All was missing was a cowboy hat to perfectly fit his mental image. The man walked up straight like he had his spine replaced with an iron rod, and his chest was so puffed out, it looked like he had done it on purpose or was spending most of his working hours in the gym. Everything on this man spoke of unchallenged authority and demanded unquestioned obedience. His clothing fit the warm Caribbean weather, yet was still business-like with his light-brown jacket over a white shirt and also light-brown cloth trousers. A pair of brown sunglasses covered his eyes.