Chapter 2
Adriana
My heart started racing, and I hoped that nobody else could hear it. Reggie didn’t react to Mr. Klein, aside from a quick roll of the eyes and placing his sunglasses back on his face.
“Reggie changed his breakfast plans,” I started, hoping that my explanation would be enough. “He doesn’t want to do the terrace. He wants a helicopter to Pebble Beach. So… I arranged it for him.”
Mr. Klein raised an eyebrow at me when Reggie looked away. He didn’t speak, and I took that as a sign that my explanation wasn’t thorough enough. I took a breath, clearing my mind and fighting back the flutters of anxiety that were popping up in my stomach.
“I let the kitchen know about the change, had Pebble Beach book his space, and spoke to the pilot,” I said, but Mr. Klein’s expression stayed fixed and unimpressed. “I’ve got everything handled, I promise.”
“You think so?” Mr. Klein’s tone made me think that I possibly didn’t have anything handled at all. “Did you check the chopper’s schedule? All of them are booked this morning.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the helicopter we were standing closest to. The pilot shrugged at me. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t checked the schedule. I’d assumed they would have said no if they couldn’t help me. It seemed like that wasn’t the case. I needed to be more careful.
“Nolan isn’t happy either,” Mr. Klein continued firmly, though his voice didn’t change in volume. He kept up that strict, solid tone. “He had to trash specially made fugu, which is almost a war crime in his kitchen.”
It was at this point that Reggie actually turned to face Mr. Klein, patting me on the shoulder twice. When he spoke, it was with a teasing tone, with not a hint of seriousness to be found.
“Oh come now, Landon,” he said with a melodramatic sigh.
“She’s here to serve me, and she knows it.
That’s all she was doing. Frankly, if more of your staff were like her, you’d have a lot less trouble from me.
Just have someone bring another chopper for whoever else has booked one. It can’t be that hard.”
“Reggie,” Mr. Klein started, his tone much gentler than it had been with me. “Our concierge is there to serve all of our guests. She must make sure that everyone’s stay is as pleasant as possible. Unfortunately, she can’t provide personalized services that will negatively affect others.”
I kept my mouth shut, deciding that I’d apologize once we were out of public view. At the same time, I wondered how Mr. Klein was planning to solve this situation. Reggie was expecting a helicopter to Pebble Beach, and he seemed to be the kind of guy who didn’t often hear the word ‘no’.
“So, you’re saying I can’t have the chopper?” Reggie asked, still defiant as ever. “Damn. Not sure why I even bother coming here if that’s the kind of service I can expect.”
“I do have a counteroffer,” Mr. Klein answered smoothly, completely unmoved by Reggie’s complaints.
“I’m listening.”
“We do have an open helicopter slot for lunch,” Mr. Klein explained, as a pair of people appeared from the elevator and began walking across the roof.
Probably the guests who had actually booked their spot early enough.
“We can offer you a trip to Pebble Beach then. I’ll even sweeten the deal with your favorite champagne on ice, which I can arrange to be paired with white almas caviar. ”
Now, Reggie leaned forward, seemingly intrigued by Mr. Klein’s offer. “Last week, you told me you couldn’t get that.”
Mr. Klein offered him a small smile. “I’ve been working on it behind the scenes. What do you say, Reggie? Will you have your breakfast on the terrace and treat yourself to Pebble Beach for lunch?”
“Alright, alright,” Reggie laughed, starting to walk away from the helipad. “You’ve won me over again, Landon. I’ll take that offer. The terrace better be ready when I get there, though.”
“Of course,” Mr. Klein said after him, before pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing a quick number.
“Nolan? Yeah, you won’t be happy. Reggie’s back on the terrace.
He’s on his way there right now. Just get it over with.
Yes, I expect you to have a fresh fugu ready.
You’re welcome to bite my head off later. ”
He ended the call before turning back to me. My mouth was dry and I could still feel my heartbeat running rampant, but I kept a straight face.
Mr. Klein had an intimidating presence, as calm as he was.
His deep ocean eyes stared at me with an intensity that I’d never felt before.
Being tall and broad-shouldered as well, I was sure that he could command any room he walked into.
If he wasn’t my boss, and if I wasn’t in deep trouble with him, I could see myself wrapped up in his arms.
“Come,” he said to me, and began to march toward one of the staff doors at the far end of the roof. The word sent a shiver down my spine, and for some reason, there was something about it that made me bite the inside of my lip.
Mr. Klein stayed quiet as we headed to the staff elevator, and I didn’t ask any questions.
I couldn’t believe that I’d made such a mess out of my very first morning.
I fully expected at least a written warning, but at such a highly rated establishment, it was possible that something like this could get me fired.
I hoped that Mr. Klein would have mercy on me, but I wasn’t sure what to expect.
He led me all the way to his office, and by the time the door closed behind me, I felt somewhat faint.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” I said, the words tumbling out of me in a hurry. “I just wanted to be helpful, I thought that I was supposed to make sure he got what he wanted… I mean, I just wanted to do my job right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Mr. Klein let me babble for a while as he sat behind his desk, but eventually he lifted his eyes to look at me.
It felt as if he was studying me a little too closely, like he was thinking about what exactly to say.
I wondered how badly he was going to tell me off.
If he hadn’t shown up, the morning could have been a disaster.
Especially if the other guests found the helicopter they’d booked simply wasn’t there.
“Calm down,” Mr. Klein finally said, and I pulled my lips into a tight line. “It’s your first day.”
“But I’m not supposed to be making mistakes,” I insisted, looking down at my shoes. “I’ll take any punishment that you want to give me.”
There was a flash of Mr. Klein spanking me that ran across my mind for a moment, but I quickly pushed that aside. It wasn’t appropriate to imagine my boss in a position like that. It wasn’t the usual kind of daydream I had, either, but Mr. Klein was just something else.
When I looked up again, he was still watching me with something close to curiosity on his face. “I think there’s a fundamental misunderstanding you have that will make your job harder.”
My jaw tightened, but this time, I didn’t look away.
I would have to take whatever he threw my way.
If he wasn’t going to fire me now, then I’d have to prove myself all over again.
And this time, I couldn’t make the same mistakes.
But I did want Mr. Klein to trust me, to believe that I could be the best. That his choice to hire me was the right one.
“Let me be clear about something,” Mr. Klein said, before getting up from behind his desk. He moved so that he was standing in front of me, and I had to look up at him. “Your job isn’t to give guests everything they want.”
“It’s not?” I asked, somewhat surprised. I had been pretty convinced that’s what the job description meant. Keep the guests happy and solve any problems they brought to me.
“No,” he insisted. “Your job is to make them believe that you’re giving them everything they want. You’re smart. I’m sure you know what I mean by that.”
“I do,” I answered, though a frown was forming on my face. “Easier said than done, though.”
“It comes with experience.” Mr. Klein crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. “The way I look at it, everybody wins, but I win first. If you can do that, you’ll be just fine.”
“You’re not going to fire me?” I asked, my voice more than laced with surprise.
He let out a short, amused scoff. “Not yet.”
He took a step closer to me, and I felt my cheeks begin to heat up. The tension between us was almost palpable, and it made me freeze.
“But, you know, I do think it would be a good idea to apologize to the chef,” he said softly, though his words did carry a hint of warning. “You really don’t want to get on his bad side. That would be a real nightmare.”
I almost fell over when I took a step back and cleared my throat. “Yes, Sir. I’ll get right on that.”
I hurried for the door to escape the sheer intensity of Mr. Klein’s spell, stepping out into the hallway and nearly slamming the door behind me.
I took several deep breaths, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
I had this crazy feeling that I just wanted to rip off my uniform and let my boss have his way with my body.
Even now, I had the urge to turn back, to lock his office door behind me and to just jump his bones.
“You’re being ridiculous,” I whispered to myself as I tugged at my uniform to make sure everything was still in place.
I couldn’t deny that Mr. Klein was beyond handsome, but he was my boss, and I needed to be professional at all times.
Having a crush on him would be more than a minor inconvenience.
When I’d managed to get my head back in the game, I made my way down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen.
I assumed that Nolan wasn’t going to be quite as calm or forgiving as the big boss had been.
Chefs weren’t exactly known for that in the first place, and from what Mr. Klein had told me, I’d really ruined Nolan’s morning with the whole situation.
Still, I did need to apologize. Maybe I could still get our relationship on the right track.
When I made it to the kitchen, I heard the yelling as soon as I walked through the door. Nolan was snapping at someone about herbs, and people were running all over the place. It was as if they were preparing for the apocalypse.
I hesitated, but eventually managed to force myself to walk up to where Nolan now stood, stirring some kind of sauce with an almost violent flair.
“Uhm, Chef,” I muttered, but he clearly didn’t hear me over all of the noise around us. I cleared my throat and spoke louder. “Chef Nolan.”
He turned on his heel, still working at the sauce. “What is it now?”
“Actually,” I said, steeling myself. “I wanted to apologize to you. For the whole Reggie thing. I messed up.”
Nolan seemed almost stunned to hear my apology. “That’s what you’re interrupting me for?”
“Uh, yeah,” I answered. “Mr. Klein pointed out that the fugu was a lot of trouble.”
“Everything I do is a lot of trouble,” Nolan replied. “That’s why I’m the one doing it, and not some two-bit line chef off a derailed food cart.”
I had to admit that Nolan, too, was soft on the eye—something in the SoCal water, probably—but he was striking in a different way. Freckles danced across his face, and his dark eyes were perfectly complimented by his deep red hair. It was enough to distract me from his anger.
“Of course,” I said, clearing my throat. “Anyway, that’s why I need to apologize. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with you.”
Nolan paused what he was doing and glanced over his shoulder. “Damnit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I over-stirred this,” he grumbled at me. “It’s ruined. And they’re coming for that wedding menu tasting in two minutes.”