10. 2
Something Hanna still found uncomfortable and made her skin itch. The very thought of reaching out to people because she needed something made Hanna want to crawl into a hole and disappear. Talk to a group of strangers for days on end, no problem. Reach out and ask them for help, hives.
“What else were you too afraid to ask?” Mai hit the nail on the head with her question. One of the main reasons Hanna did not reach out to Hazel was the fear that she would laugh at her ideas or call them impossible. “You have a captive audience now, so ask away.”
An hour passed by quickly as the group shared their successes and failures as business owners, and as they were called into individual treatment rooms, Hanna’s head was full of ideas for marketing her business. Relaxed from a deep-tissue massage, Hanna rejoined the group for their facials.
“So, what’s the worst group you have ever given a tour to?” Hazel asked, the words sounding like they were rolling over marbles before exiting her thin lips.
Hanna fought back a laugh at Hazel’s attempt to talk without moving her mouth. Their faces were covered in a tingling face mask designed to combat aging, and their esthetician warned them against moving too much to allow the ingredients to settle properly. That was apparently too much to ask this group of women, who had scarcely lasted two minutes before breaking the silence.
There were so many ways she wanted to answer Hazel’s question. She could tell them about the time a guest ignored her suggestions to swap alcohol for water on a river cruise and projectile vomited all over the deck and several other guests. The worst part was when they demanded a refund since they did not enjoy the experience.
Hanna shuddered at the memory.
Then there were the countless groups who demanded special treatment, snapping their fingers to summon Hanna like a trained pet. She deserved an award for the restraint she showed, especially when they got to the end of the trip and told her that they did not believe in tipping. Her satisfaction at a job well done was reward enough apparently. She briefly considered asking them if that was a valid form of payment for bills.
She would never share that with other guests though. Complaining was a recipe for disaster in the service industry. It left the group wondering what mean things were said about them behind their backs. Plus, you never knew who someone was connected with, and negative talk had a way of coming back to bite you later.
So, Hanna kept as close to the truth as she could. “Every tour has its own challenges, but I consider them learning opportunities. I would not say any of them were the worst.”
“You are not fooling anyone with that PR-approved answer,” Hazel said with a chuckle. “Believe me, I understand how women must be extra-cautious of our reputations. We get called bitches for the same attitude men are praised for, but this is a safe space. We will not judge you for calling out people who deserve it, their bad behavior is not a reflection of you.”
Daphne agreed. “Mmhmm. I still remember my first television interview, nothing too big, but I was still nervous and pacing the dressing room so much I worried I was wearing a hole in the carpet. That’s how one of the assistants found me, pacing back and forth, reciting my talking points. He took one look at me and said, ‘You would be prettier if you smiled.’”
Outraged exclamations drowned out the ambient harp music. Despite their difference in age, there were some experiences that were sadly universal for all women. Ask any woman and she would recall a moment where someone told her a version of that phrase. Unsolicited. As if hearing it unlocked a mystery of the universe the woman was missing in her life.
“That is terrible, Daphne. I hope you did not let that ruin your big moment.”
Daphne snorted. “I was a black woman in a predominantly white, male space. So, I did what I was raised to do, smile politely and thank him for the advice. Then I ‘accidentally’ stepped on his foot with my heel as I left the room.”
Hanna could picture it in her mind. Beautiful and strong, head held high, smiling like an angel as she crushed the man’s toes. Laughter burst out of Hanna, and the others joined in.
When her laughter died down, Hanna felt comfortable enough to share her own story. “I wish I could say nothing that horrible happened on my tours, but we all know that is a lie. When I was starting out, there was a boy my age on tour, Antonio. He sat next to me at every meal and invited me out every night. I thought we were falling madly in love, reckless and passionate as only young love is, believing that we could overcome any obstacle. Unfortunately, he did not feel the same.”
Hanna heard a sharp inhale, but she was too ashamed to look them in the eyes to tell this story. Of all the tours she could have shared with them, this one popped up as the first choice. Like dipping her toes into water to find out how cold it was before jumping in, Hanna wondered if her subconscious chose this memory as a test. Hazel said that she wanted Hanna and Noah to date, but maybe she would change her mind once she knew how disastrous it ended for Hanna before.
“His father caught us together one night. Called me some pretty horrible names and threatened to get me fired. I thought that Antonio would defend me, explain that we were in love. But he said nothing, just stood off to the side while his father yelled at me. I almost lost my job and all I could think about was my broken heart.”
Shame resurfaced at the memory. Hanna felt so exposed and small in that hotel room, betrayed and alone as she clutched the sheets to her naked body. Never before had she felt so ugly and unwanted, and it took Hanna years to shake off the experience. She still cared what people thought about her, but Hanna no longer placed her personal value on other’s opinions.
“What a spineless worm,” Daphne spat out.
Hazel swore in Dutch.
“We should cancel him,” Mai stated firmly.
Lillian rolled her eyes. “I do not think you used that phrase correctly, but I agree. As long as there was nothing against a relationship in the company’s policies, inadvisable as it was, you did nothing wrong. How typical to blame you when his son was also a consenting adult in the relationship. I hope your boss stood up for you.”
Their quick defense of something that happened to her a decade ago healed a wound that had scarred over her heart.
Hanna nodded. “She did. Stephanie was a fantastic boss and earned every bit of her early retirement. When she found out what he said to me, Stephanie got him blacklisted from all the major tour companies and encouraged me to report him for harassment. Last I checked, he was in a lawsuit against several of his employees for allegations of harassment in the workplace.”
“Serves him right,” Mai said with a nod. “Too many people get away with that kind of behavior.”
Daphne agreed. “It’s a sad reality that what happened to you is still so common. No one should have to go through that.”
“I feel the same way.” Hanna allowed some of the righteous anger to fill her voice. “Once I can hire employees, I still plan on being hands-on with planning tours, keeping an eye out to make sure no one is treated poorly. I never want anyone who works for or with me to feel unsafe or unsupported.”
It was Hanna’s impetus to establish policies against unacceptable behaviour that were clearly outlined in her contracts. If those policies are violated, the tour immediately stops. Without a refund.
“Anyone would be lucky to have you as their boss,” Hazel said as she turned in her chair to look at Hanna. “When do you plan on expanding your business? You’d better let us know how we can help.” It was a demand.
Something must run through the Eversham family blood to offer help at every turn. But Hazel asked the million dollar question–-and yes, Hanna meant that literally. Luxury travel was a lucrative business. With the rate of itinerary-only trips Hanna was booking, along with several promising private tour inquiries, the plan was to hire an assistant within six months. A second guide after a year. But that relied on maintaining a steady stream of business.
Hanna had it detailed in her business model, but uncertainty and fear lurked over her shoulders like silent sentinels. Whispering words of doubt to her in voices that sounded suspiciously like her family. Tours are not a stable career choice . You need a backup plan .
If one piece of her business plan failed…Hanna did not want to think about Trips Ahoy’s employment offer waiting in a sealed envelope at Sarah’s place.
“Well…” she hedged.
A sliver of light sliced across the room as the door opened, the esthetician slipping into the room on silent feet. He gasped as his eyes bounced from each of their faces.
“I told you not to move!” He tsked as he pressed a damp towel to Hanna’s face, wiping off the mask. “How do you expect these to work if you do not listen to directions? You’re lucky your skin is already flawless. I cannot work miracles.”
He continued muttering about his wasted time as Hanna and the others giggled.
When the rest of the group retired for the evening, Hanna went to her room to shower and change into more comfortable clothing. Used to working long hours, her mind was still buzzing with content ideas for social media, especially after exchanging ideas at the spa, and a small thread of anxiety she could only quell by checking her business site and responding to any outstanding emails. She knew it would take time for any referrals from Hazel and her group to kick in, but Hanna suspected that she would worry until her depleted finances were replenished and her tour calendar was fully booked.
The hotel’s business suite was comfortable, in the minimalist, beige way that was the en vogue aesthetic. Small desks lined one wall, low partitions providing privacy and a semblance of seclusion in the open space, leather desk chairs at each cubby. Along one side was a printer and other office supplies, the opposite wall hosting a loveseat with textured throw pillows. Hanna settled into one of the desk chairs, turning on her laptop with a hum before getting lost in the methodical rhythm of answering client questions and inquiring with potential vendors.
Hanna stood, pushing a strand of hair back into the bun on top of her head as she stretched, rolling her head to work out a few knots. Bending backwards with her hands linked over her head, Hanna heard the door open. This late at night, Hanna did not expect to see another person, let alone one of the guests that she was leading on an early morning tour the next day, but Noah was not like other people.
Of course, Noah had to find her like this, no makeup, dressed in stretchy pants, a tank top and cardigan, hair likely a mess. Noah should be sleeping, not walking into the business center looking soft and welcoming in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt. He looked recently showered, the ends of his hair curling against the nape of his neck, no hint of the product that usually kept it sweeping back off his face.
Her thoughts tumbled like a tower of stacking blocks when a lock of hair fell onto Noah’s forehead. She wanted to run her hands through the damp strands and mess them up more. Like their time in Monet’s Garden, seeing Noah in casual dress made him touchable.
Trying to direct her thoughts back into the professional realm to prevent crossing a line, Hanna pulled her cardigan tighter across her chest, clutching the fabric together with one hand. “Is everything okay? Can I get you anything?”
Noah blinked quickly, as if waking from a dream and clearing his eyes to make sure what he saw was real. “Yes, and no.” He tipped his chin in the direction of her open laptop. “I came to get some work done. Looks like we had the same idea.”
“Guess that makes another thing we have in common.”
He laughed, the lines around his eyes softening his usually stern features. Millions of euphoric bubbles burst in Hanna’s chest at the sound, feeling like she won a prize at a carnival game. She had to work for it, missing the target time after time, but the reward was worth it.
For a moment, their eyes met and held, looking at each other without any artifice. She could see questions swimming in his eyes and only hoped that hers were answering correctly. This is me, as I am. Do you like it? His eyes seemed to ask.
The ping of a new email broke the moment, and Hanna tore her gaze away, choosing to stare at a framed picture of the Arc de Triomphe that hung on the wall as if it was the most impressive piece of art she had ever seen.
Noah leaned against the door frame, neither in the room nor out. Hanging somewhere in the balance, much like Hanna’s feelings towards him.
“Was the wifi in your room not working?” This was a safer question, something Hanna could solve and distract her from the emotions swirling in her chest.
“You just cannot stop helping people, can you?” Shaking his head with a sigh, Noah stepped towards her. As he came closer, Hanna caught a whiff of his soap, the scent of clean laundry and sunshine. “The wifi is fine. I just don’t like working in the same room as I sleep. When I started working from home more often, I thought it was important to keep my work space and relaxing space separate. That way I can pretend that I have work-life balance.”
Hanna watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. Apparently she was not the only workaholic on the trip.
“Me, too. I guess that means we have two more things in common.”
“Good. I like having things in common with you.” Noah’s voice was faint, like the admission slipped past his lips without his permission. But they were standing so close now, if one of them stepped forward they would touch. Hanna heard every word as if he shouted them.
This was dangerous. Knowing that she liked him was one thing, Hanna could control this one-sided attraction. Probably. But knowing he liked her too? The urge to reach out and touch him possessed her. Practically no effort was required. Just a few inches forward and her hand would brush his. She could feel the heat radiating off him and swayed toward it like a flower reaching for the sun.
But reaching for the sun was a surefire way to get burned.
Turning away, Hanna started packing up her laptop, hands trembling with the repressed urge to touch Noah. “You can have the room now. I was just finishing up. Let me know if there is anything you need while you are working.”
Lightning sizzled across her skin as Noah’s hand touched her arm to get her attention. Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.
“Who takes care of you while you are busy taking care of everyone else?”
“Me, I guess. Someone else would just get it wrong.”
His blue eyes were whirlpools, pulling her into their depths. But instead of turbulent water, Hanna knew that if she let herself fall into him, the water would protect her, wrapping around her like a cocoon.
“If you gave me a chance, I would like to get it right.”