Chapter 164
Chapter 164
Rebecca raised her hand. "I know that. So what exactly do you want? Your shoes got a little wet—just wipe them off. What's actually damaged? Let me see. Are Armani shoes really that fragile?"
Of course she knew luxury items like these were mostly for show, and some leathers could indeed be affected by water.
But Irene's attitude didn't suggest she wanted to solve the problem—she just wanted someone to take it out on.
"Seems to me the one being delicate here is the person, not the shoes."
"Who are you calling delicate?"
"Whoever's answering me."
Rebecca shrugged.
The two women were about the same height, but when Rebecca tilted her chin up like that, she somehow seemed just a bit taller than Irene.
"Fine. So what if I'm delicate? Now go get your manager over here."
Irene whipped around to glare at the cleaning woman, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
"What manager? It's just a little dirty water."
Rebecca bent at the waist, reached straight into the bucket of dirty water, scooped up a handful, and splashed it onto Irene's shoes.
"What are you doing?"
Irene's voice shot up an octave.
Rebecca blinked at her innocently.
"Now I'm the one who got your shoes dirty. This has nothing to do with the cleaning lady anymore, right?"
Irene's brows knitted together as she stared at Rebecca, completely baffled by whoever this woman thought she was—openly defying her like this!
"That whole bucket of dirty water came from mopping the floor. And this floor only got dirty because you walked all over it in those expensive shoes."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means don't be so aggressive. Bullying a cleaning lady and making a scene—who's the one who ends up looking bad here?"
Rebecca's righteous tone made Irene's temper flare.
"I'm finding that manager whether you like it or not! I'm filing a complaint no matter what! Since you love playing hero so much, fine—I'll make sure you see exactly what happens when someone crosses me! And that goes for you too!"
Rebecca frowned. The woman in front of her had a beautiful face, but her aggressive posture was truly appalling.
The three of them stood there at the women's restroom entrance, arguing over this trivial matter.
Rebecca found the whole scene unseemly. After thinking for a moment, she said to Irene,
"Fine. Since you're determined to find the manager and file a complaint, I'll come with you. I'll be a witness for this cleaning lady."
"A witness?"
Irene looked even more confused.
Rebecca raised an eyebrow.
"I'll tell the manager that you bumped into this cleaning lady first, then tried to strong-arm her into paying for your shoes. That you're trying to extort her!"
Irene stared at Rebecca in shock. The cleaning woman beside them looked panicked too.
Her eyes went wide as she looked at Rebecca with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety.
Rebecca could see the cleaning woman was an honest person—the moment she heard Rebecca planning to bluff Irene by framing her, her expression changed completely.
Rebecca quickly winked at her, signaling her to stay quiet.
The cleaning woman's mouth moved, torn between doubt and inner struggle, but thankfully she kept silent.
"I'm extorting her?"
Irene was so flustered by Rebecca's absurdity she could barely form words!
"You think if you just make things up, people will believe you? You think if I complain to the manager about her, she'll still have a job?"
"If you don't mind the trouble, I'm happy to go with you to see that manager of yours and get this whole thing sorted out properly."
Rebecca shrugged.
Irene glared at Rebecca.
Complaining about this cleaning woman wouldn't make her feel the slightest bit guilty—it was just a matter of saying a few words. But if this reckless woman insisted on causing trouble, it would be annoying.
After thinking it over, she decided there was no need to make them suffer immediately. A direct confrontation wasn't worth it—better to file the complaint later!
"I'm remembering your face. You'd better hope I don't run into you again!"
After saying this, Irene shot Rebecca one more fierce glare before leaving the restroom.
The cleaning woman still looked shaken, staring at Rebecca with uncertainty, completely at a loss.
"Will that lady still... still file a complaint against me?"
Rebecca said to her,
"I can't say for sure, but I don't think she'll do anything to you tonight. Still, I'd suggest you go tell the hotel manager about what happened today yourself."
The cleaning woman clutched at her hair, looking distressed.
"It's all my fault for being careless. I should have knocked first."
"True. This place sees a constant stream of important people—being that careless can cause a lot of problems."
The cleaning woman nodded, but her face still showed deep anxiety. She glanced at Rebecca, seeming like she wanted to say something but holding back.
Rebecca thought for a moment, then said,
"Don't worry. Those shoes aren't that fragile. As long as they're not actually damaged, she's probably just blowing off steam."
"Thank you, thank you so much."
The cleaning woman was deeply grateful.
Rebecca washed her hands again and wiped off her own shoes before returning to her seat.
"What took you so long?"
Rebecca shrugged, then briefly mentioned the woman she'd encountered in the restroom.
She gave a simple rundown of what had happened.
Everard said,
"Filing a complaint itself isn't wrong."
Rebecca paused, looking at Everard with slight surprise.
"That's just how the hospitality industry works—the customer comes first. Never mind that the cleaning woman accidentally spilled dirty water on that woman—even if the woman had run into her on purpose, the cleaning woman would still be the one held responsible."
"I understand that logic."
"You said that woman's shoes cost tens of thousands of dollars?"
"That's what she claimed."
Rebecca muttered dismissively.
"Shoes worth tens of thousands of dollars mean she's either wealthy or an industry elite. For a hotel, people like that are extremely valuable consumers. The revenue they bring in from a single meal might equal that cleaning woman's entire monthly salary."
"So tell me—would they risk offending those customers over a cleaning woman?"
"I know that too."
Rebecca glanced at him. "You're saying the world operates on survival of the fittest, but what I'm saying is that people born into privilege don't necessarily stay privileged their whole lives. It pays to leave some room for others—and for yourself."
Everard poured her some red wine.
"Don't expect all women your age to understand that principle."
"Do you think I was being nosy?"
"If you were asking a businessman right now, then yes, you were being nosy. But you're asking a doctor, and all he can say is—I hope there were more people in this world who are 'nosy' like you."
Everard raised his glass and gently touched it to Rebecca's freshly poured wine, producing a clear, crystalline clink.
Rebecca's heart fluttered at his words.