“Why would you want to work outside? It’s so dirty,” Tillie mumbles as we walk through the main lodge toward the reception desk, the vaulted timber ceiling towering several stories above us. Her pretty face scrunches up, and I notice for the first time the flecks of brown in her otherwise crystal-blue eyes.
“And wiping urine off toilet seats isn’t? How about ‘disposing of used condoms with discretion’?” I air-quote Paige’s exact words with my fingers. The past two hours have been focused on how important it is for guests to know that the staff is discreet. That we will see all kinds of things in these rooms—high-end clientele or not—that may make us take a second glance. We’re not to do that. We’re to keep our mouths shut, tidy up their rooms, hide the dildos we find in the soiled bedding in the nightstand, and offer the guests nothing more than a polite, nonjudgmental nod should we pass them in the hallway.
Tillie waggles her brows. “I don’t know. There’s something sinful about being in a stranger’s private space.”
“Well, I’ll let you be sinful while I tend to the hostas and lavender in the front garden.” I already took inventory of them on my way in. Professional landscaping mats and mulch will ensure that the weeds are kept to a minimum, but I’m sure there’s something that can be done.
“I guess you’ll find plenty of entertainment with your coworkers. It’s a male-dominated group. Connor sure seemed to take to you.”
I snort. “Maybe I can get drunk and hit on him, too.”
“So is that what you did? You hit on someone?”
I shake my head. I’ve already said too much.
“You’re gonna have to spill it some time. Either way, it’ll get out. You can’t keep anything quiet in a place like this, trust me.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” I mutter, more to myself.
Tillie’s infectious giggle carries through the lobby, catching several glances. Including Belinda’s, who’s now behind the desk. I practically run toward her. She has swapped her tight black dress for a red one with a plunging neckline. I try not to look at her breasts when I talk, but they’re large and distracting and, I’m pretty sure, not real. “Hey, Belinda.”
She stares blankly at me.
“It’s me. Abbi Mitchell. You said you were going to look into the mix-up with my position.”
“Right.” She offers me her trademark forced smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I need you in Housekeeping. We’re short staffed. If something changes, I’ll make sure to move you over right away.”
As rude as it is, I sigh with frustration. “But I was hired for an outdoor position. Is there nothing you can do?”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. With us opening in two days, we can’t be short on housekeeping staff.”
Should I remind her that I have zero experience with housekeeping? Or will that guarantee me a ride back to Homer, never to return again?
“Is there a problem?”
My stomach drops at the sound of his voice from behind me. Fingers take hold of my elbow and squeeze gently. Forcing myself to turn, I take a deep, shaky breath and look into those crystal-blue eyes as my pulse begins to throb in my throat. Eyes so light, they’re mesmerizing. And framed by the longest, thickest lashes I’ve ever seen on a man. I never felt their full impact last night. Now, they make my legs turn to Jell-O. He’s not giving anything away though. What he thinks of me, of my drunken stupor, of me trying to kiss him.
His steely mask hides it all.
And yet he makes my knees wobble, all the same.
I give him a small, embarrassed smile. “It’s just that I applied for outdoor work and I’ve been assigned to Housekeeping.”
“And you’re unwilling to work in Housekeeping?” There’s a sharp edge in his voice.
“No. I mean…” Remembering his words from earlier, I’m quick to correct. “I was hired for outdoor work and would be much better suited for it, is all. I’m afraid I won’t meet your standards.”
His flawless eyebrows arch with surprise. “Outdoor work here is pretty tough.”
“I know. But I can handle it.”
He turns to Belinda. “How did a mistake like that happen?”
“I can’t for the life of me figure it out.” Does this reflect badly on her? If it does, she shouldn’t be glaring at him like that.
He opens his mouth to say something but stops himself, his tongue running along the bottom of his lip as if in thought. And I’m hit with the memory of my fingers sliding across them last night. Of my tongue sliding across them.
Oh, God, I am truly never drinking again!
“They’re preparing the rooms for arrival tomorrow?” he asks.
“Yes,” Belinda says. “All the last-minute dusting, care packages, making sure everything’s perfect.”
“I’m not sure how the hiring team made this mistake, but it’s hardly fair that you flew all the way here and we screwed up your position.” He pauses, his gaze flickering down the length of me ever so briefly, so fast that I may have imagined it. Still, between that and my spotty memories of last night, of what I said to him with my mouth pressed up against his ear, I’m now struggling to breathe.
He heaves a sigh. “Come to the main gates at 7:00 a.m. sharp tomorrow and someone will see to it that you get some outdoor hours in. You might find that you’ll change your mind about housekeeping. Belinda, please ensure Paige knows that Abbi won’t be joining in until the afternoon.”
Great. He remembers my name.
“Certainly.” Belinda’s eyes haven’t left his face the entire time. How did she get appointed hotel manager? She clearly isn’t the right person to enforce a business-attire dress code.
His heavy gaze settles on me. “Does that work for you?”
My head bobs up and down. “Yes. Thank you, so much. I appreciate it. Mr. Wolf.”
A glimmer of mischief briefly dances across his face and then vanishes. “We’ll see.”
I hold my breath as he strolls away, heading for the elevators.
With a quick nod toward Belinda, who is now glaring daggers at me, I spin on my heels and head back toward the training session, Tillie hot on my heels.
“What was that all about?” she hisses.
“I’m not sure. But I think he’s trying to help me get a job in Outdoor.”
“Oh. My. Lord. That man is somethin’ else,” she hisses.
I release the lung’s worth of air. “Yes, he is. He seems nice enough, at least.” I asked him if he thought I was pretty. Ugh! He avoided answering that, which is answer enough.
“What I’d do to be assigned to his room,” she purrs. “I’d crawl through his sheets and—”
“He’s our boss!”
“Hell, like you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t! You’re not allowed to, anyway! Didn’t you read the policy handbook?”
She snorts. “There ain’t nothin’ about getting off in the boss’s sheets.”
I flush at the thought.
“Well, it’s not like either of us is gonna get the chance. Guys like him stay for the opening and then hop in their helicopter and jet off to bigger and better things. He’ll be gone in a few days.”
I glance over my shoulder in time to see him pressing the Up elevator button, his suit hugging his muscular frame in all the right places. He seems oblivious or indifferent to Rachel and another girl ogling him from behind the bar, where they’re setting up bottles of alcohol.
“Really? I figured he’d stay. It sounded like this place was special to him.” The thought of him leaving so soon disappoints me. Not that it matters in my little world. As much as I’d love to believe otherwise, a guy like that has no interest in a twenty-one-year-old farm girl from Pennsylvania. Especially one who threw herself at him in a drunken mess.
Still, he sure is something to look at.
“All these guys love gettin’ up in front of the staff and telling them how vital they are. I swear, it’s like it’s in an owner manual. It don’t mean nothin’.” She pauses. “Then again, you know what I heard? That he personally reviewed each and every video interview made and gave the final approval for hiring. So maybe I’m wrong and he will stay.”
“That can’t be true.” A guy like that couldn’t be bothered when he has a hiring team to do that.
She shrugs. “If it is true, then he must love control. Maybe that extends into the bedroom.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
I don’t understand what that means, but I smile at her anyway.
“Come on.” Tillie loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go learn about folding towels and checking for bedbugs.”
I groan.
