Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
O ver the next three days, Riley found herself gritting her teeth a lot. When she first checked Brittney Livingston in, Lucas had strolled by in his crisp black suit looking more like some well-dressed celebrity at the Oscars than a small-town inn manager.
Did the guy have to wear a suit every day? They were distracting when she was trying to get work done.
Ms. Livingston had stopped checking in to check Lucas out, then leaned closer to the desk. “Is he in charge of bringing towels to the rooms? Because if he is, I need a couple extra. On an hourly basis.”
Riley had handed the woman’s key to her stiffly. “He’s the manager. Housekeeping is in charge of the towels.”
Since that conversation, not only did Ms. Livingston extend her stay, but the woman practically parked herself in the lobby. She was like a cheetah waiting for the gazelle to show up at the watering hole.
Although in a metaphor about animals, it was hard to think of Lucas as being prey. He was too lion-like. Strong. Powerful. Great hair.
And he didn’t seem to mind taking time out of his day to chat with the oh-too-eager-blonde-cheetah. Riley was forced to witness Brittney find excuses to flirt with him.
On the day before she checked out, Ms. Livingston showed up in the lobby in a bikini and a hardly-there coverup to ask Lucas if the inn had a heated pool. It didn’t. Anyone who’d looked around the grounds would know that. Brittney spent the next fifteen minutes trying to convince Lucas to leave with her to go hot-tubbing at the Hampton in Lark Springs.
When Brittney finally left, thankfully alone, Lucas watched her go with a smile on his lips.
Jealousy turned in Riley’s stomach. He’d used to look at her that way. Now he was wasting his admiration on a woman like that.
Riley rolled her eyes. “If her car breaks down on the way to town, she’s going to freeze to death.”
“If her car breaks down,” Lucas said, drifting over to the front desk, “I’m sure someone will stop to help her.”
“Isn’t using another hotel’s hot tub illegal?”
“Yep. That’s why I didn’t go with her.”
Was that the only reason? “I notice you didn’t give her that good-citizenship-is-a-duty lecture you give me every time I break the law.”
“You’re my employee. It’s my job to lecture you.”
Riley tapped her finger against her lips in thought. “What did you tell me about having conversations with friends on company time? I’m pretty sure it was don’t do it.”
“She’s not a friend.” He smiled, enjoying her jealousy. “She’s another satisfied customer.”
“Is she?” Riley hated that her voice came out too high.
“Yeah. Some women appreciate what this inn has to offer. Warmth, hospitality, style…”
He was definitely talking about himself. “She must not have appreciated it too much. She just ditched your inn for a Hampton with a jacuzzi.”
Lucas laughed and strolled off to the office. “She’ll be back.”
She undoubtedly did come back, but Riley had gone home by then. For the first time, she wondered what Lucas did at night after she left. Did he eat in the dining room with the guests, or did he grab something from the kitchen and eat in his room like Mr. Ross had?
At three o’clock when Sara showed up, Riley casually asked about it.
“I’ve seen him do both,” Sara said. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious.”
Sara looked over the reservations for the day. “Curious because you’re thinking of working late and having dinner if he’s here? Or curious because you want to avoid him if he does?”
“Neither. I was just curious.”
“Must be the first option,” Sara said as though the matter was settled. “Nobody would want to work late otherwise.”
“I’m not working late. However, if Ms. Livingston wants to extend her stay again, tell her we may have discovered mold in her room and she’s better off at the Hampton.”
“Mmm,” Sara said knowingly. “Getting rid of the competition.”
“The woman is just annoying.”
“And pretty blatant. Last night, she kept trying to get Lucas to sit by the fireplace with her.”
A pang went through Riley. She couldn’t help but think about all the times she’d sat with Lucas in front of a fireplace and what they’d done there. His arms wrapping around her waist, his lips brushing against her earlobe…
“Tell Ms. Livingston that there’s mold and that an amateur hard-rock band is checking into the room next to hers. They’ll be practicing electric guitar riffs all night.”
Sara laughed, but Riley still felt cross as she left the inn. Of course every beautiful single woman who came to The Riverside would hit on Lucas. Tall, gorgeous Lucas with his bright smile. Lucas who had that I’m a defender and will protect you vibe going on. Riley would be forced to watch women throw themselves at him as long as she worked here.
She really ought to look into getting a new job.
The Riverside Inn wasn’t the only place in town. Other buildings could feel like home. Maybe it was time she looked for something else with warmth, hospitality, and style.
The problem was those sorts of places were hard to find.
Riley was still in a bad mood when she came in the next morning. It didn’t even get better when Ms. Livingston checked out.
The woman looked too happy. “This place is a hidden gem,” she purred as she returned her key. “I’ll have to stop by again on my way back.”
“We might be full,” Riley said.
Ms. Livingston laughed. “Lucas told me he’d always have room for me.”
“Did he?” Riley said with a hitched breath.
Ms. Livingston didn’t answer. She just hummed as she sashayed out the front door.
So Riley wasn’t in a good mood, and Lucas with all of his body language skills should’ve seen that and kept his distance, not come up to her to give her one of his You guys did things wrong before I took over, and now I have to set them right managerial talks.
He emerged from his office with his suit coat off and his sleeves rolled up. “I’ve been going over the records, and I need to talk to you about your work schedule during the summer months.”
A good topic to cover. Last summer she’d worked sixty and sometimes seventy-hour weeks, not only doing managerial tasks but working the front desk and spending time as a boating guide as well. “Right. I put in a lot of overtime then.” She’d thought she needed to earn as much money as possible for the down payment. “Since technically as the assistant manager, I’m salaried, Mr. Ross paid me bonuses for the extra hours which were equivalent to overtime.
“Next summer, unless you plan on paying me bonuses again, I only want to work the normal forty-hour week.”
“Fair enough,” Lucas said. “I noticed that some of your hours were spent on white-water rafting, kayaking, and even horseback riding tours. Someone else can do those jobs. I want you inside doing the managerial tasks.”
She blinked at him, absorbing the words like they were a blow. Her favorite part of the job was the outdoor activities, and he wanted to take that away from her?
“Why?” she stammered. “Is this because I tried to change the architectural design? You’re going to ground me to the office now?”
His head snapped back. “No, this is about the comparative advantage of your skills. You have the experience and knowledge of a manager. That’s where you’re needed. What’s the point of having you work as a trail guide? Half the college kids who come home for summer can do that job for minimum wage and tips.”
Yeah, except she loved the outdoor stuff, loved taking a break to be out in the sunshine.
“Once the inn expands,” he went on, “employees should specialize instead of being a jack-of-all-trades. You’ll be needed overseeing operations, not checking to make sure tourists’ life vests are secured before they step into a kayak.”
Her chest felt tight. “Some people don’t consider it being a jack-of-all-trades. Some people consider it being well-rounded. I like kayaking.”
He dipped his chin, incredulous, then sighed. “If you want to do the outdoor activities, fine. But during that time, I’ll only pay you the recreational staff wages, not the assistant manager wages. Does that sound fair?”
It sounded like her raise had evaporated. She tried a different angle. “You want to stick our guests with inexperienced college kids instead of a trained professional? Isn’t that a safety issue, Mr. We-need-to-keep-the-doors-unlocked-in-case-of-a-fire even though there’s never been a fire here in a hundred years?”
He shut his eyes, fighting for patience. When they opened again, they trained in on her. “Inexperienced? That’s what you’re worried about? Every college kid from Lark Springs grew up spending summers on the river. We’re all experienced. My mother could be a kayak guide. And the horses are old, tame, and walk at what—three miles an hour?”
Yes, but she wasn’t going to give in on that point. “Fine. While I’m making up the petition to save The Riverside Inn’s historical value, I’ll let people know you’re putting profits above safety.”
He tapped his pen on the desk. “We made a deal. You’re supposed to be a model employee.”
“That was only if you convinced Carson not to desecrate the inn with modern architecture. I haven’t seen any new designs.”
Lucas clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Do you plan on fighting me over every decision?”
“No. I stood by your wallaby eviction and kicked poor Tippyroo’s fluffy butt to the curb, even though Mrs. Lewis’s review said we were…” Riley went to her phone’s bookmarked pages and read the review, “heartless, disorganized, and had stains on the carpet that we tried to hide by throwing down a cheap rug.” Riley shook her head. “That rug wasn’t cheap, by the way. I paid extra to get the washable kind. And a good thing, too. Tippyroo wasn’t the best house guest.”
Lucas launched into a speech about teamwork, but she didn’t hear it. Her attention had been stolen by the Inn’s newest review. It gushed that the manager was a handsome, single man who’d gone to her room after hours. I can tell you he got my heater working fast enough . Super hot . He alone is worth booking a room at The Riverside Inn! So charming. Makes you never want to leave. A resounding five stars.
Well. It wasn’t hard to guess which of their guests had been on the receiving end of Lucas’s after-hour favors. Apparently, Ms. Livingston had been successful in her attempts to get Lucas to come to her room.
Lucas stopped talking and waited for Riley to say something about his teamwork speech.
Riley glanced at the review again. “So, you hit it off with Ms. Livingston pretty well, didn’t you?”
“Ms. Livingston?” he repeated, confused.
Perhaps Riley shouldn’t have thrown out that statement without a segue. Or perhaps Lucas had never learned Brittney’s last name. “Ms. Livingston, the blonde from Canada who kept hanging around the lobby so she could ask you questions—even though I was sitting at the desk and could’ve given her any information she needed.”
The corner of Lucas’s lip twitched. “I remember her.”
Riley glanced at the review again. “You went to her room after hours to heat her up?”
Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “What are you accusing me of, Riley?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want after hours. Be as charming, handsome, and as resoundingly five-stars as you like. Although some people would consider it unprofessional behavior.”
He nodded, lips still firmly pressed together in exasperation. “And what proof do you have that I went to her room to—how did you put it—heat her up?”
“It’s not my euphemism, it’s hers.” Riley flashed her phone screen at him. “She wrote about you in a review, Mr. Hot-and-Good-with-His-Hands.”
Lucas took the phone from her with a grumble. “Would you stop Mr-ing me? My last name is Clark and nothing else.” He read the review silently and then laughed. All the tension in his expression vanished, replaced by amusement. “You think Brittney wrote this?”
“She was lobby-stalking you, so yes. She seems a more likely candidate than one of the married tourists or the choir women who fled soon after check-in.”
Lucas smiled the smile of one who was about to triumphantly win an argument. “Mrs. Nickle had problems with her heater Wednesday night, so I went to her room and fixed it. She’s right about the room being so hot now. She keeps it at roughly the same temperature as Nigeria. As far as her comments about being charming, never wanting to leave, and a resounding five stars—I’m guessing she was referring to The Riverside Inn since the inn was the last noun mentioned before those descriptions. What were your grades in English class, anyway?”
Was he right? “Give me my phone back.” She held out her hand.
He didn’t return it. He was having far too good of a time rubbing this in. “I’m taking a screenshot of the review so I can forward it to my friends because most of them didn’t do well in English either. Let them wonder what I do to earn my stars.”
“I got Bs in English,” she said, “And that was only because I hated the books they made us read. I mean, come on, The Scarlet Letter and The Old Man and the Sea ?”
Finished with the screenshot, Lucas went to her contacts. “I’m also unblocking myself. As your boss, I may need to get a hold of you at times, and I want you to answer.”
Granted, he had a point, but she didn’t like the way he’d confiscated her phone. “I can do that myself.”
“Already done.” He sent the screenshot to himself. “I changed my name in your contacts to Resoundingly Five Stars. I would change your name in mine to She-Who-Jumps-to-Conclusions, but that’s already what it is.”
A blush warmed Riley’s cheeks. “Okay, I may have been wrong about who wrote the review, but you can’t deny that Miss Canada was coming onto you.”
“I don’t deny it. The woman gave me her room key. I had to pretend I didn’t know what she meant by that and tell her I would return it to the front desk for her.” He handed Riley’s phone back. “I imagine her online review of me won’t be quite as glowing as Mrs. Nickle’s.”
Riley reread the review, this time thinking of Mrs. Nickle writing it. And okay, now that Riley knew that Lucas had fixed her heater, that part sounded more maintenancey and not so suggestive. But still. “The woman is in her sixties. Why did she even mention that you’re young, handsome, and single? That’s creepy.”
He shrugged. “We talked while I fixed her heater, and she thought it was a shame I was single. Maybe the review is her way of trying to help with that situation.”
Riley put her phone down on the desk. “For a writer, you’d think she’d be clearer about what she’s reviewing.”
Lucas slid his hands in his pockets and watched her, waiting.
She shifted uncomfortably. “If you expect me to comment on your earlier teamwork speech, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He hadn’t moved and was still considering her with his blue-eyed gaze. “I’m waiting,” he said with pointed smugness, “for an apology. I know I’ll never get one for the conclusions you jumped to with Winter, so I need a doubly good apology now about Ms. Livingston.”
There was no avoiding it. He wasn’t going to leave until she apologized. She let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I accused you of going to Ms. Livingston’s room, when in fact, your handsome, charming, single self was only fixing Mrs. Nickle’s room temperature. I’m sure when she said you were good with your hands, she only meant your skill with a screwdriver. That said, you realize that half the women who read her review are going to think the same thing I did, so it wasn’t really such a leap on my part to?—”
“That stopped being an apology,” he interrupted. “I didn’t ask for your justifications.”
She raised her hands and let them fall. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
“And you’re going to trust me from now on?” he asked, leading her.
“I’ll trust you just as much as I did before.”
He lifted a finger for emphasis. “That’s the root of the problem.”
“Yeah, it is.”
His eyes narrowed. “As the manager, I can have someone come in and make the employees do those team-building exercises that foster trust. I’m going to look into that.”
“I knew all of the power would quickly go to your head.”
“Definitely scheduling that,” he said and tromped back to the office.