40. Sloane #2
What’s going through his head, now that he knows who I am?
Probably that I’m certifiable. “Thanks,” I offer after a delayed moment.
“I should go. I have to figure out how to keep my business from running into the ground.” If I sound dejected, it’s because I am.
The day keeps getting worse. If Mick and Will are here too, who else is?
I should have stayed in bed.
“You assume we’ll hire them all,” Ronan says.
“Oh, you will. My tiki captain, Jeremy, is the best employee we’ve ever had. Ron is eager and hardworking. They’re all decent people,” I admit begrudgingly. “Except for Cody. But he doesn’t work for me anymore.”
“Your ex?”
“Yeah. Be careful if he’s anywhere near the bar.”
“Heavy drinker?”
“More like a heavy dicker. Loves to ply women with free shots so he can get into their pants.”
“That’s a new one.” Ronan chuckles. “Is that how he got you?”
“I don’t fall for that.” I don’t even touch hard alcohol. “But I’m sure it’s how he got all his side action while we were together.”
Ronan nods, as if he’s not surprised to hear that Cody cheated on me. He could be the type to cheat on women too, though.
“He got fired from Siren’s Call for giving away bottles’ worth of tequila, though he’s probably not stupid enough to use them as a reference.
But don’t expect a solid employee there.
Or even a mediocre one. God, why am I giving you advice while you steal people away from me!
” I roll my eyes at myself. “If you could show me how to get out of here without walking through that ballroom again, I will be gone, and I promise, I will never step foot on Wolf Hotel soil again.”
Ronan hums but doesn’t move, seemingly in thought. “Jeremy … what’s his last name?”
“Smith. Why?” I ask warily.
He reaches for a pad and pen on his desk, the fine material of his shirt stretching across his chiseled torso. “We have a lot of people to choose from. I don’t see why we have to hire your staff. Any more of it, anyway. So, we can help each other out. Who are the other ones?”
Shit . My guilt flares. “You’re asking me to make a hit list?”
He smirks. “I assumed you already had one.”
“I do, but it’s for Cody.” And Henry Wolf, but admitting that would not be smart.
Ronan opens his mouth but falters. “Why’d you end things with him? The cheating?”
“No, I didn’t know about that until after. Let’s just say he was more interested in having my money than in having me as a wife.”
“Your property. Yeah, that’s got to be worth a bit.”
“Enough that your not-friend boss tried buying it from me five different times.” And that’s only my house.
I also own the Sea Witch lot and the storage lot.
There were two other properties that Gigi acquired over the years—she’s also been a shrewd woman with her money—but we sold those to pay for her place at Palm Oaks .
“Five times.” Ronan whistles. “He is nothing if not persistent.” He shifts back to his pad. “Who are the other employees?”
I bite my thumbnail as I think. Is this right? It’s bad enough that I came here but now I’m sabotaging their chances of a job. Frank is right—if they don’t want to work for the Sea Witch, who am I to stop them from leaving?
“How much is the high season worth to you?” he asks.
“It’s seventy to eighty percent of my annual sales,” I admit.
“Exactly.” Ronan peers up at me from beneath thick dark lashes, studying me while I continue to waffle over my reluctance.
“Okay, how about this— I don’t want to hire people who would royally screw over their current employer.
We’re making offers as soon as possible and training starts next week.
You’re not getting two weeks’ notice from these guys.
So, give me some names. I get final say for my departments. I’ll see what I can do.”
Is his guy saying he’ll pass on good employees for me, a.k.a. the crazy rooster commune lady? My hackles rise. “Why are you helping me?”
His brow quirks. “I don’t understand.”
“I crashed your job fair and now you’re helping me.” There must be a catch. There always is. “What do you want from me in return?”
“Man, you are cynical.” A soft, deep chuckle slips out. “Can’t I just be a good guy?”
“No.” Beautiful men can’t also be good guys. They don’t exist, it’s that simple. “What is this going to cost me?”
“Who says I expect anything?”
“ You did. ‘We could help each other out’?” I air-quote those words.
“Right, I said that.” He nods slowly. “What are you offering?”
“What do you want?” I ask hesitantly .
Steely eyes trace my nose, my cheeks, my lips, and then a devilish, small smile breaks free, one that makes my pulse spike.
He knows he has me over a proverbial barrel.
Or his desk. I inhale sharply with the mental image that stirs, even as I acknowledge that it would be utterly vile of Ronan to use sex as a bargaining chip.
It would also prove my beautiful-man theory.
Would he at least keep it semi-classy and buy me dinner first, or would he just unbutton his pants right here? The office doors are frosted. Do they lock?—
“Sloane?”
“Huh?” Oh my God, I’ve been gaping at him.
“The signs have to come down.”
“The signs?” That , I hadn’t expected, but I should have. “Was this your plan all along when you brought me in here?”
“No. I actually was trying to avoid a disaster out there.”
For some inexplicable reason, I believe him.
“You take down all the signs and then I’ll steer the managers toward different hires.”
The Sea Witch’s survival or my petty art project, as Ronan called it. “Frank would be ecstatic to see them gone.” He keeps suggesting I find a new way to channel my rage. That, and therapy.
“Frank sounds like a reasonable man.”
“As long as you’re not on his bad side.” But the signs down mean Henry Wolf wins. I may as well have cashed that last fat check he offered. Frank wasn’t happy with me about that one either. Outright called me an idiot.
“So? What do you say?”
“I say …” I weigh my options. I have none. I’m not about to let Gigi’s legacy to Mermaid Beach fall apart. “You stop poaching my staff and then I’ll take down my signs.” Getting those up was work. I earned dozens of slivers and scrapes, climbing up into branches .
“Deal.”
I still can’t believe Ronan is being so kind to me. I wasn’t kind to him today. I definitely am not his boss’s favorite person. Is there more to this that I haven’t picked up on yet? “That’s it? That’s all I need to do?”
Now his gaze slides down, stalling on the fitted tank top that hugs my curves beneath my blazer. “Why? Was there something else you had in mind?”
“I just meant …” My heartbeat quickens. He oozes confidence and masculinity, but with it a calm assuredness that I find so incredibly attractive.
Unlike Cody, who flaunts his appeal to get what he wants, Ronan sits back and lets others gravitate toward him, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, one way or another.
What would Ronan be like in bed?
Hell, Frank was right and this guy is dangerous. I’ve been alone in this office with him for five minutes and I’ve thought of stripping off those expensive clothes at least half of that time. I’m not usually this thirsty. Scratch that, I’m never like this and especially not since my heartbreak.
“The rooster.”
“Huh?” I blurt, his voice jarring my perverted thoughts.
“It has to go.”
My jaw drops, all previous thoughts of sex gone. “ No deal .” The audacity!
“Okay.” Ronan holds up his hands in surrender. “It was just a thought. I didn’t realize you were so attached to a bird.”
“Ralph is not a bird . He’s a part of the family.”
“Got it. Ralph. Forget I mentioned it.” More to himself, he adds, “How long can those things live, anyway, right?”
Eight years for Ralph’s breed, and he’s only two.
“So … Jeremy Smith, and who else …?” Ronan waits with his pen poised.
“Not Jeremy.”
He frowns. “Didn’t you just say he’s your best employee? ”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “He asked me for full-time hours. I can’t give those to him, but that’s not his fault. Don’t blacklist him on my account. He’s doing what he has to do. I’ll manage.” I hope.
“What about that guy you were talking to when I found you?”
“AJ? You might as well take him, seeing how awkward things will be now that he knows that I know he’s applying here.”
Something unreadable flickers in Ronan’s gaze. “The others?”
My stomach curls. Am I doing this? Yeah, I guess I am. “Mick Wallen, Will Moore, and Ron Sholtz. Those are the ones I know about.”
Ronan scribbles on his paper and then sets the pad and pen on his desk, freeing his hands to settle on splayed thighs, the rich green fabric stretched over muscle. “Consider it taken care of.”
“And how will I know you’ve kept your end of the deal?” I ask.
“You’ll still have employees next week.”
“Right.” I hesitate. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What are neighbors for?”
“It’s my neighbor who caused all of my problems.”
“Fine. But aim that anger at Henry Wolf. Not the hotel employees. Definitely not at me.” Humor glints across his handsome face. “I’m far more useful to you as a friend.”
How did he make that one platonic word sound sexual? “I’ll try to remember that.”
The air within the office grows potent with tension as the silence lingers and we stare unabashedly at each other. This can’t all be one-sided. He must be able to feel it too.
Ronan clears his throat as he stands and reaches for a business card from a holder. I admire his body as he leans over to scribble something on the back of it. His steps are measured as he closes the distance toward me, holding the card out between two long fingers. “You can find me here.”
He’s standing well within my personal space.
That can’t be unintentional. And he smells divine—a blend of mint and woody citrus, and musky soap from the shower he must have had after he dragged himself out of the ocean.
Why is his scent so intoxicating? It’s drawing me in, in a way I can’t describe. I inhale deeply.
“Who says I’ll want to find you?” My voice cracks on that lie as I tilt my head back to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Something tells me I’ll be hoping it’s you every time the door swings open at the Sea Witch.
A muscle in his jaw ticks. It’s the first hint that Ronan might be anything but lackadaisical.
If I thought the tension was thick before, now I’m about to choke on it. He might have been handpicked by the devil himself to help run this hotel, but right now, I’ve never felt such a strong urge to kiss a man.
His hand with the card hangs in the air, waiting.
Finally, I collect it, our fingertips grazing in the process, my skin acutely aware of his touch and how it lingers a few beats before pulling away.
“If that’s all I can help you with today …”
It’s a taunt, but he’s not going to make the first move.
A rare burst of impulsiveness hits me.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I lift onto my toes to meet that perfect mouth head-on.
For one … two … three beats, we’re pressed together in a slow, tentative connection.
And then he pulls away abruptly. “I didn’t mean … Let’s keep this professional.”
“Of course it’s professional.” I snap as my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
The glass door behind me cracks open with his push. “Go left out here and make another right at the end of the hall. Halfway down there’s an exit that will put you on a path to the parking lot. You’ll avoid any more uncomfortable run-ins.”
More uncomfortable than this? Spinning on my heels, I speed down the hall, mortified over my temporary lapse in judgment.