Pick'N'Mix Mods for The Sims 2

9 - Work It, Own It

The limo was air-conditioned, Analise relaxed into the luxurious leather seats and starred out of the darkened, one-way, windows. The ride from the airport wound along the coast road through small, scenic fishing villages and then into a hotel lined, bustling, touristy, strip of the bigger bay. The limo slowed - Analise hoped it wasn't going to stop, she'd never been fond of crowds - but only to negotiate the thronging tourists. At the end of the strip, it sped up and started to climb over the promontory that divided the two bays. Analise relaxed again. She'd seen from the plane that the second, smaller bay, housed fewer hotels spaced further apart. As the limo crested the ridge her breath was taken away by the beauty of the bay - magnificent hotels dotted the shore line, while multi-million Simolean yachts bobbed quietly in the bay. 'Any of those will do', Analise thought.

The limo stopped. The door opened and the oppressive heat and humidity invaded her cool space. A white gloved hand appeared in the doorway. Her body, conditioned to the years of tutoring from her mother on how a lady exited a car, flicked to auto-pilot and she elegantly exited. Without looking around in awe with her mouth open (ladies never did that), she gracefully trod the red carpet the short distance to the main doors,

which were being held open for her by a uniformed door-man.

The foyer was cool. (Pause for dramatic effect, do not turn your head in unbelieving wonder, flick your eyes to locate what you need, then proceed at a pace that makes every heel-click a separate sound - she'd hated the drills in the hallway at home as a child, but they were paying dividends now.) The hotel manager was approaching her with unbecoming haste

he was wondering why no one had told him a VIP was arriving today.

Registration was a formality. It had been his pleasure to change her suite of rooms on the top floor for one of the chalets on the beach.

If she needed anything, she only had to call the Concierge Desk.

If she wanted a maid, that was also no trouble; she politely declined. And it would be his pleasure to escort her personally to her chalet. He led the way across the foyer at a sedate pace, Analise walked slower, he held a door open

and had to wait (never arrive at a door together, always three of four paces behind, make them wait, make them know who's in control) - Analise was beginning to enjoy herself. She summarily dismissed him (be assertive, never ask, and always expect full unquestioning compliance) at the rear patio.

There were stairs involved, and she knew she couldn't hold her aloof façade on steps. He passed the key to the bell-boy. (Whom he'd never seen before, why did nobody tell him anything? If he hadn't been petrified of the towering concierge, he would have reprimanded the man. Damn it! Yes, the concierge had the power to hire and fire the bell-boys, but he was the hotel manager, a note of new appointments would be polite!) And excused himself. He retreated to his office, poured himself a stiff drink

and composed a strongly worded email about VIP arrivals to head office.

8 - Xavier 10 - Strange Stirrings