I groan inwardly, my forehead resting against my palms, waiting for a full day of training to begin. All I want to do is crawl back into bed.
“You should eat something,” Tillie suggests, pulling apart her bagel. “Here.”
I sneer at it. “Last night was so not worth it.” I don’t know what was worse: waking up to the taste of putrid breath and disgrace in my mouth and the head-splitting ache between my temples, or knowing that I humiliated myself in front of the owner—my boss.
Things are still a little bit foggy, but from what I remember, he had to save me from almost-certain drowning, carry me home because I couldn’t stand on my own two feet, listen to me babble about Jed, and endure me hitting on him shamelessly.
Until I forced myself on him with a pathetic attempt at a kiss.
“Would you just tell me what happened?”
“Nothing.” I refuse to give her—or anyone—the details. I’m too embarrassed.
“Huh.” Suspicion drips from that single sound. “Sounds like you got the post-drunk-flashback blues. They’re somethin’ terrible. We’ve all had them, so spill it.”
Is that true? Does everyone feel this shroud of shame and mortification after a night of drinking?
“It’ll make you feel better. Promise.”
I’ll do anything to feel better right now. “I cried on a guy last night,” I finally admit.
She smiles triumphantly, as if proud of herself for making me break.
“It was awful.”
“Yeah, well… girls get emotional when they’re drunk. Who was he?”
I avert my gaze to hide the lie when I say, “I have no idea.”
“You didn’t even get his name?”
I shake my head.
“Well, I assume nothin’ too wild happened, seeing as nothin’ causes limp dick faster than a crying girl.”
“What else would—”Another memory hits me and I gasp, staring wide-eyed at her. “Oh my God!” I basically asked him to have sex with me.
And told him that I’m a virgin!
And that I’ve never been so much as fingered.
Saliva begins to pool in my mouth. “I’m going to be sick.” This is why I’m not supposed to drink. Mama’s right. Satan does live at the bottom of a bottle of booze.
“Don’t worry. If you see him again, apologize. I doubt he gives a shit.”
“I hope you’re right,” I mumble. I’m still having a hard time believing that the big burly man in the plaid jacket is the billionaire, Henry Wolf. But that’s my kind of luck.
I called him a lumberjack.
And stroked his beard.
I groan again, as the petite Texan brunette at the front of the room claps her hands several times to gather everyone’s attention. There are close to fifty people in this room by Tillie’s count; the vast majority of them women.
“Welcome to Wolf Cove Hotel, a Wolf Hotels establishment! My name’s Paige,” she chirps. “Y’all have been chosen to join this team because of your exceptional experience in high-end accommodation establishments, your exemplary ethics, and your dedication to put this hotel into a league of its own.”
Tillie leans in next to me, her strong perfume wafting into my nostrils as she murmurs, “Or maybe because we’re all gorgeous people.”
I stifle my snort, though I can’t help but agree with her. It was all the more evident at breakfast in the lounge this morning. Even though some were clearly nursing a hangover, myself included, every last person employed at Wolf Cove, right down to the cooks and plumber working on the public restrooms this morning, has something going for them in the looks department.
I’m pretty sure there’s a profiling lawsuit brewing somewhere here.
But honestly, how did I end up here? I mean, I filled out an application, answered a few questions, and was hired a week later to do a job that I have no experience in.
And I seem to be the only one without respectable credentials. Everyone in my cabin has worked for a large chain hotel before, if not for the Wolf itself. Autumn was a concierge at the Seattle location and Lorraine normally works out of the Wolf Chicago spa.
And that’s the whole experience angle. The looks angle… Let’s just say I’m the only one here with braided hair and thick, ungroomed eyebrows, now emphasized because I’m forced to wear contacts in order to see ten feet in front of me.
If I let myself think about it for too long, I start to believe they screwed up when they hired me. There was an accidental shuffle from the “reject” pile to the “hire” pile.
“Okay! Let’s get down to business. Everyone in this room has been hired for the Cove’s housekeeping services. You’ve all done this kind of work before, some of you within the Wolf family, some outside. For those outside, we want to make sure that each and every one of you knows exactly what’s expected of you at Wolf Cove, and I’ll promise you that our standards are high.”
“I don’t need a lesson on cleaning toilets,” Tillie mutters.
She may not need one, but I don’t want one. I sigh and glance over my shoulder at the clock. It’s 9:00 a.m. I swung by the reception desk before the session, but Belinda wasn’t there yet. This has to get fixed. As nice as it would be to work with Tillie, this is not what I signed up for. My own bedding is sitting in a heap, back in the cabin. I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t meet Wolf standards.
Paige goes on, and I lose myself in the spectacular backdrop out the wall of glass behind her—trees and water and, far in the distance, white-capped mountains. I can see why they would build a ballroom here. What an incredible wedding reception location this would be.
Jed and I were supposed to have our reception in the old barn out back, the one we use to store all the tractors and farm equipment. It was going to be rustic and romantic, with flowers strung along the beams, and candlelit lanterns on the tables.
I push that thought aside in time to hear Paige say, “Mr. Wolf has every intention of earning a Five Diamond and Five-Star rating for Wolf Cove. Y’all play such an important role in making that happen. We need you to work hard and make each guest’s stay memorable. That’s why he’s here to speak to you this morning.”
My heart rate spikes.
She gestures to her left and everyone’s heads shift as one.
The air grows thick as a man enters the room from a door off to the side and saunters toward the podium, the pant legs of his tailored suit falling gracefully with each step.
My mouth drops open.
It wasn’t the alcohol. He is that dazzling.
And he shaved his beard off, leaving only smooth skin and a stunning profile behind. The man’s face has been carved by the gods themselves, with chiseled edges and a small cleft in his chin.
“Dang. Autumn wasn’t kidding,” Tillie murmurs. “Hello, soaked panties in two seconds, flat.”
Mine, too. I stare at him unabashed, remembering how good he smelled last night; how the salt from his skin tasted. How his arms felt wrapped tightly around me. I was being carried by an Adonis and I was too drunk to appreciate it. Instead, I babbled his ear off about my ex and virginity and all kinds of mortifying things.
He towers over Paige, who’s in three-inch heels and staring up at him like a child in awe. Everyone seems to stare at him in awe, their attention riveted on his frame as it fills the space behind the podium, his upper body broad and solid in the gray suit and yellow tie.
He looks every bit the billionaire.
And that hair… It’s a rich chestnut brown, combed back and curling at the ends. My fingers twitch, remembering playing with them at his nape. What would it feel like to run my hands through that thick mane?
He clears his throat and reaches for a tall glass of water. Takes his time drinking it, the muscles in his neck pulsing with each swallow. His eyes wander over the group, seemingly unruffled as we all watch.
I shrink down a little in my chair, hoping to avoid his notice.
It doesn’t work.
That steely gaze of his settles on me. I freeze, my heart rate spiking, my cheeks burning bright.
“Oh my…,” Tillie murmurs under her breath beside me.
Finally, he releases me and focuses on the podium in front of him, but not before I catch the tiniest smirk touch his lips. He sets his glass down and, leaning into the microphone, offers coolly, “Good morning, everyone.”
His voice is as deep and as sexy as I remember it being.
And, I swear, every last female shudders a sigh at the sound of it. A wave of “good morning” responses roll through the group as people sit up straighter in their seats.
The left side of his mouth kicks up in a sexy smile, like he knows what his voice can do.
“Lord have mercy,” Tillie whispers. “I would maul that man in a heartbeat.”
Would you fuck me if I asked you to?
Panic explodes inside me as I replay the words in my head, my hands pressed against my mouth to hide my gape.
But he said, “maybe.” At least, I think he said maybe. Am I remembering that correctly? If so, was he simply toying with me?
“I’m sure Paige here has given Wolf Cove the introduction it deserves, and I trust that she’ll provide you with more than adequate training. I wanted to stop in and reiterate how important it is to me, personally, that each and every guest here has an exceptional experience. My family has owned this property for hundreds of years. I’ve always considered Alaska to be a home to me, even when I’m not here. As such, I want to see this Wolf location prosper.” He speaks eloquently, his grammar impeccable, his words flowing. How did I not notice that last night? “It is my dream to make us one of the only 0.3 percent in the world to achieve Five Diamond status. Many people have told me it’s impossible; that it can’t be done.” His perfectly groomed eyebrow arches. “And I tell them that I live for a challenge. This is why I’ve flown in the most prestigious Wolf chefs, and sous chefs, and I’ve hired you bright and eager people to help me succeed.” His eyes wander through the group again. Where there was plenty of adjusting in seats and bowed-head doodling before, there is only rapt attention on the man now. “I’ll leave you in Paige’s capable hands. She has helped train hospitality staff at three Wolf hotels so I trust she’ll whip you all into shape and you, in turn, will make sure every guest will wish they never have to leave Wolf Cove. I expect the best, and only the best, from each and every one of you.” His eyes sail around the room again, and I’m relieved that they skate past me without stalling. “I trust you’ll find all of the employee benefits more than fair. Should there be a point when you feel they aren’t and you don’t enjoy being here, I ask that you let our hotel manager, Belinda Cartwright, know right away. We’ll have you on the first ferry out.”
Was he this cool last night? He’s not exactly Mr. Charming, that’s for sure. Intolerant, if I had to choose a word. A man like this must think I’m a complete idiot, the way I rambled on. No wonder he wanted to be rid of me. And here I thought there was perhaps a connection. That, at one point, with my mouth against his neck, I managed to arouse him.
I’m never drinking again.
“Thank you.” He turns, but then stops and leans in to the microphone again. “Oh, and before I forget: Please make sure you are well versed in the staff conduct section of our orientation package. The main hotel grounds are meant for guests only. We expect staff to utilize the facilities in the staff village and remain there while off-duty. There has already been one incident of drunk and disorderly conduct. Future incidents will result in termination of employment.”
My face burns with his words. That’s got to be a warning for me. That, should I ever try to make out with him again, I’ll be fired. I guess that’s fair.
His humorless eyes graze mine one last time and then, with a small nod toward Paige on his way past, he strides out the door he came in through. I’m torn between wanting to crawl beneath the table and hoping he’ll find a reason to stick his head in, so I get a chance to see his beautiful face again.
By the look of it, everyone else in here is wishing the exact same thing.
“Abbi?” I turn to meet Tillie’s raised brow. “Did that warning have anything to do with you?”
I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please.”
Paige claps her hands again, drawing everyone’s attention back to her and, thankfully, ending any chance for Tillie to press. “Okay! So where were we? That’s right. Learning about Wolf Hotels’ housekeeping excellence.”
