10. Ro
Chapter 10
Ro
“W e have several two-bedroom family suites. They’re very popular with families coming to ski in the winter.”
Tessa led me out of one of the guest rooms. I already knew the penthouse was spacious and modern. I’d been happy to see the rest of the rooms didn’t look dated. They were tastefully decorated in creams and browns that suited the mountain-lodge feel.
“We get a lot of repeat customers. Not just guests from out of state, but people and families who come to Windward every year. They come for vacations, birthdays, engagements, weddings.”
I stayed silent as we stepped into the elevator. Surprisingly, while Tessa talked a lot, she didn’t waffle. She talked about the resort, and everything was filled with clear knowledge and a love of the property.
The elevator opened and she led me through to the restaurant. Breakfast was finished and the tables gleamed.
“Lunch service will start in a few hours. We have the main restaurant, Summit, and more casual dining in the Slopes Lounge. We also have the bar off the lobby. The Bluff Bar. It does a brisk trade, especially in the winter with the after-ski crowd.”
“Do you ski?”
“Of course. I’m Windward born and bred.”
“Do you get kicked out of town if you don’t hit the slopes?”
Her lips twitched. “Something like that.”
She led me into the great room. I had to admit, the giant stone fireplace made a statement.
A look crossed Tessa’s face and I couldn’t look away. “This is my favorite room in the hotel.”
“It’s a nice room.”
She straightened. “It’s more than nice. A man proposed to his girlfriend over there yesterday.” She pointed to the fireplace. Then she turned, her gaze falling on a table by the windows. “My parents and I sat there on my eighth birthday. I got to have a pink lemonade and I wore my favorite sparkly dress. They brought me here every year for my birthday until I was eight.”
My chest tightened. “That’s when you lost them?”
Her smile faded. “They were killed in a car accident. They were driving back from Denver in the winter and hit a patch of black ice.” She pinned on a perfunctory smile. “My aunt kept up the tradition. We were here for my thirtieth a few months back.”
Shit . I felt an uncomfortable feeling at the thought of a tiny, dark-haired girl finding out her parents were dead. “You were close with your parents?”
She blinked at me. “Of course I was.”
In my experience, there was no of course about it. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She gave me a tight nod. “What I want you to see is that this place is more than just walls, stone, and beds. It’s a place where people make memories.”
“I’m in the hotel business, Tessa, not the memories business. I want people to enjoy their stay, but first and foremost it’s about filling rooms and providing the right amenities to attract them.”
She huffed. “You don’t get it. What’s one of your favorite memories?”
“When I was appointed CEO of Langston Hotels.”
She made a face. “Not to do with work. When was your last vacation?”
I frowned.
Her mouth dropped open. “You must take a break sometimes. You’re rich. You can vacation anywhere you want.”
“I have a business to run.” I hated that I felt a prick of defensiveness. “I attended a friend’s wedding in New Orleans recently.”
“Did you relax? Delegate work and not answer your phone?”
I stared at her.
She threw up her hands. “You’re looking at me like I just asked if you tangoed naked in Times Square.” With a shake of her head, she swiveled. “Let’s keep moving.”
She headed for the lobby, and I followed, my gaze dropping to the small sway of her hips. She moved with brisk precision, like she had places to be and things to do.
“Tessa!” a voice called.
I watched a tanned, twenty-something brunette bear down on Tessa with a wide smile. “I was hoping to catch you before we checked out. I wanted to thank you for making the last few days magical.”
Tessa smiled. The first real smile I’d seen since that night at the masquerade. My gaze locked on her face.
“I’m so glad, Jillian.”
The brunette threw out a hand. “This has been the best bachelorette trip ever.”
That’s when I noted the small gaggle of young women nearby. A couple of them looked at me, shooting flirty smiles my way.
“Those amazing cocktails you got the bartender to make for us. And calling the cocktail the ‘Bride to Be’ was the cutest.” Jillian beamed. “They were amazing. And the little veil and sashes for our spa day.” She gripped Tessa’s arm. “Thank you. You’re the best. This place is the best.”
“I’m truly happy that you’re happy. Now, safe travels, and we’ll see you in a few months for your wedding.”
“Thanks, Tessa.” The bride-to-be only now noticed me. “Oh, is this your man? Nice work.”
Tessa made a choking sound. “Oh no, he’s not mine. He’s a…work colleague.”
“Well, enjoy your work.” The woman winked, then hurried back to her group.
“Another happy customer.”
Tessa cleared her throat. “Yes. I want you to see what the Windward Resort means to people. It isn’t just fast check-in and a comfy bed.”
“Are you telling me that the bride and her friends wouldn’t like to see an expanded and upgraded spa?”
Tessa stopped and cocked her head. “Okay, that is an idea I could get on board with.”
“It seems we found some common ground.”
“Maybe. All right, next up?—”
The lights went out.
Tessa groaned so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. “Tessa?”
“Just a small power outage. Let me?—”
She turned and smacked into me. I caught her elbows.
We were plastered together. I felt her chest hitch, which pushed her breasts against my chest. Her hands clenched on my arms.
Shit . Right then and there, I was very, very aware of Tessa Ashford, and it had nothing to do with her skills.
Our gazes locked. Like me, I knew she was thinking of the last time we were this close. I lowered my head, and our breaths mingled, our lips barely an inch apart.
Then the sound of voices nearby brought everything back into focus.
She jerked back. “Sorry.”
Instantly, I missed the feel of her. “Does this happen a lot?”
Her mouth pressed into a flat line. “Not a lot, but it happens.”
“Old wiring?”
“Yes. But it’ll…”
The lights came back on.
“Thank you, Jesus,” Tessa muttered.
“Tessa?” a voice called from reception.
Tessa grimaced, then spun. “Coral?”
A gray-haired lady bore down on us. “The computer system didn’t come back online.”
Tessa rubbed her left temple. “Did you call Rupert?”
“He’s coming.”
“Good. Switch to manual procedures for check-in and check-out.”
Coral sniffed. “Will do.” She gave me a long up and down look, then huffed and headed back to the reception desk.
“I assume she’s worked here for some time,” I said.
“You’d assume correctly. She’s been working at the Windward Resort longer than I’ve been alive. Don’t worry, Coral doesn’t really like anybody, but the guests love her.”
“Who’s Rupert?”
“The local IT guy. He knows the system.”
“You have manual reception procedures?”
“Yes.”
“So the power outages and system issues are common.”
She bristled. “They aren’t common, but they happen. We have contingencies for everything.”
I made an unconvinced sound.
Then she spotted a tall, thin man entering the lobby with a laptop messenger bag slung crosswise over his body. “Rupert! You’re here.”
The man looked up. He had pale skin and sandy-blonde hair. He saw Tessa and flushed. “Oh, hey, Tessa.”
“Thank you so much for coming so fast. You’re a godsend.”
The man’s flush deepened. “Any time. You know that.”
Ah, someone had a little crush, and it appeared Tessa was totally blind to it.
“Rupert Fairbanks, this is Ambrose Langston, our new owner.”
The tech guy straightened and the puppy dog look on his face faded. “Hello.”
I inclined my head. “Nice to meet you.”
“Fun story,” Tessa said, “but Rupert is a part of the hotel’s history, or his family is. His great-grandfather, Teddy Fairbanks, helped found the Windward Resort, along with Chester Clarence. They had a falling out somewhere along the way, and Teddy left the business.”
“Really?”
Rupert swallowed and nodded. “Teddy was swindled by Chester. Supposedly there was a game of poker, and Chester cheated.”
“And plied poor old Teddy with whiskey and ladies of less-than-pristine reputations,” Tessa added with a grin.
Rupert waved a hand. “Old family history. If things had been different, it could have been me standing here as the hotel owner.”
“Lucky for me, your great-grandfather liked the whiskey.”
“We need to keep moving,” Tessa said. “Thanks again, Rupert.” She faced me. “Shall we continue?”
“Yes. What’s next on the tour?”
“Back of house. This way.”
She scanned us through a door. Soon, we passed through the laundry and housekeeping area. I saw carts lined up, topped with fresh towels and sheets. Several of the housekeeping staff in their neat, chocolate-brown uniforms stood nearby, eyeing us with interest.
“This is the way to maintenance.”
Next up was a workshop. A familiar broad-shouldered man in a flannel shirt and jeans stood at a workbench.
“Everett,” Tessa called out.
He turned. He had shaggy hair that was caught somewhere between brown and gold. When he saw Tessa, he shot her a wide, lazy smile. I frowned.
She gripped the man’s arm. “This is Everett Murray, our head of maintenance. We keep him pretty busy, and he keeps everything running.”
“We ran into each other last night.” I nodded at the man.
“The power issue was minor?” Tessa’s voice was loaded with hope.
Everett nodded. “All good now.” His steady gaze met mine. “Nice to officially meet you.”
We shook hands.
“I’m giving Mr. Langston the full tour.”
“Heard rumors you like to knock old hotels down and build bright, new, and shiny,” Everett said.
Tessa stiffened.
“Right now, I’m just getting a tour. My team will do a full assessment on everything that needs upgrading before we make any decisions.”
“He promised me a week to show him all the good aspects of the Windward,” Tessa said.
I looked around. “I’m guessing you’ll have a few ideas.”
The other man nodded. “I do.”
“Make a list.”
“I’d start with a new hot water system. It struggles in the winter when all the skiers like very long, hot showers and baths.” Everett swiveled. “You should show him the basement.”
“Really?” She shuddered. “There are spiders down there.”
“I want to see everything.”
“Fine. The basement it is. I’ll catch you later, Everett.”
The maintenance man lifted a callused hand.
Tessa headed out another door and into a dim corridor. “I don’t come down here too much. It’s creepy.” She reached another door. It had an electronic lock on it, and she held her card up to it. “The boiler’s down here, plus we use it for storage.”
The door beeped and opened. I saw stairs leading into darkness. She touched a switch and a few bare bulbs flared to life.
“It’s very serial-killer chic.”
She laughed and glanced at me.
“Don’t look so surprised. I make jokes occasionally.”
“Sorry, you don’t seem the type.”
“Oh.” The stairs creaked as we descended. “What do I seem like?”
“Rich. Workaholic. Used to getting your own way.”
“I’m going to regret allowing you to tell me the truth, aren’t I?”
The basement was stuffy, dim, and dusty.
“The basement.” She held out a hand like a game show hostess.
That’s when the lights went out, plunging us into darkness.