41. Ronan #2
“Believe me, I know . He personally watched every interview video for Wolf Cove because he was that invested in its success. If you were Henry, you’d be doing the same.
But you’re not.” In a slightly more conciliatory tone, she goes on.
“Besides, we’re running on a super-condensed timeline.
Our people have already done all the heavy lifting.
Just approve the final staffing lists that our managers spent all night vetting and then run off to do whomever you want for the rest of the weekend. ”
I smirk. “You mean what ever.”
“I don’t,” Belinda snipes, admiring her hot pink fingernails that I once recall digging into my shoulders.
There’s no point trying to sway her opinion of me. “So why am I here if all the work is done?”
“So you can take full responsibility if your department hires give me problems.” She frowns at the paper cup in my hand. “The Sea Witch?”
“Local shop.” I hold my breath a beat, waiting to see if a link between the name and Sloane will form, but Belinda doesn’t seem to connect the dots. “The coffee in the pit is shit.”
“Oh God, why would you drink that?” She grimaces. “Minnie gets mine from Opal Reef. The Brevilles arrived two weeks ago.”
“We can do that?” I didn’t even consider sending my assistant to fetch me coffee from one of the hotel’s restaurants.
She answers with a snort.
I was actually hoping to run into Belinda before this meeting, but it wasn’t to discuss caffeine sources. “Listen, there might be a few names I need to veto today.”
“ Veto ?” She adjusts her thick-rimmed glasses to scowl at me. “Explain.”
The list is tucked in my back pocket. To say Sloane was reluctant with my idea would be an understatement. I practically had to pull the names from her pretty lips, and she squirmed uncomfortably the entire time. “Our neighbor is willing to take down her signs if I help her out. ”
Belinda’s pencil-drawn eyebrows arch with a mixture of interest and suspicion. “Help her how ?”
I considered how to approach this long and hard last night, while admiring the stars from our rooftop.
I’ve figured out Sloane’s weakness—her family business, her grandmother’s legacy to Mermaid Beach.
If I give Belinda this information, I don’t trust that she won’t use it as ammo to punish our menace of a neighbor rather than as a negotiating tool.
“It’s a long story, and I’d rather not bore you with the details.
Plus, plausible deniability has its benefits. ”
She freezes mid step. “Does this involve my director of operations sticking his dick somewhere it doesn’t belong?” she hisses.
“Inside the bus at all times. I swear.”
She stares me down as if searching for the lie.
“I did not lay a hand on her, Belinda.” My lips are another story, and I didn’t instigate that.
I sure as hell enjoyed it, enough that it was the first thing that came to mind when I cracked my blurry eyes open this morning.
“But I need you to back me up. You do that, and those signs on her property will be long gone by the media open.”
That gives her pause. “ All of them?”
“Every last one.”
Her lips twist as she considers this. “I want the rooster gone too.”
“That’s a no-go.” There’s not a chance in hell Ralph is going anywhere.
I saw Sloane’s face. I may as well have demanded she drown a puppy.
“So? Will you back me up if I need it?” Something tells me I will need it.
Sloane wouldn’t tolerate idiots. Aside from her ex, that is.
All these guys will be Wolf Hotel employees by the end of the weekend if I don’t run interference.
I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.
“Fine.” Belinda sighs reluctantly. “But don’t make me look stupid. ”
“That’s impossible.” I cap it off with a wink.
She rolls her eyes. “Be prepared for pushback, though. These are all career Wolf managers who aren’t pleased about reporting into a grounds crew worker who weaseled his way into Henry’s good graces.”
“Got that vibe.” But weaseled? I smirk. “Is that what I did?”
“I have no idea what precisely you did, and I’m sure I do not want to know. But Dorian was expecting your job. Frankly, he deserves it.”
“And maybe one day, he’ll have it. But today, it’s mine and I can squash our public relations issue with your help.”
A thoughtful expression lingers on her face as she slows her steps. The meeting room is up ahead. “If you want to earn your position, you need to start acting like you care that you have it.”
“I do care.” As much as I might not have wanted this job, now that I’m here, I’m not letting anything or anyone get in the way of it. “But I have a fuck ton to learn.”
“And no time to learn it,” she agrees. “So, you better learn how to fake it.”
“Is that what you did?”
“I’ve never had to fake a single thing in my life,” she scoffs.
I can’t help the sly smirk that curls my lips. “That’s good to know.” Because she screamed like a woman possessed that day in the old Wolf cabin.
Her warning glare has my apology slipping out. I did promise her we wouldn’t mention our past again. “Don’t you remember what it’s like to start a new job and not know what you’re doing?”
“No.”
“Come on, Belinda …” I give her an imploring look.
She purses her lips. “Ask yourself what Henry Wolf would do in a particular situation, and do that.”
“So … be an arrogant prick? ”
“Exactly. It hasn’t failed me yet.”
An unexpected bark of laughter escapes me, and she joins in. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Belinda laugh before. At least, not in a way that isn’t mocking.
Her steady gaze is on my profile as we close the distance to the meeting room. “What?”
“When did you meet the neighbor?”
“Yesterday. Went by to have a talk,” I lie. If Belinda knew Sloane was on hotel property, she’d lose her mind.
That answer seems to satisfy her. “I’m impressed that you managed to negotiate with that menace. Maybe Henry wasn’t completely wrong about bringing you here.”
I bite my tongue against the urge to defend Sloane. Hell, I’d be pissed too, if I owned a property like that and this place moved in next door. And now all she’s trying to do is keep her decades-old family business running while we pillage her best workers.
But Belinda isn’t the empathetic type, especially when finding empathy requires going against her boss. “I guess we’ll see soon enough.”
“I have a firm list of candidates for HR.” Dorian’s weathered hands rest on the stack of printouts, but he makes no effort to pass any across the table.
The middle-aged grounds staffing supervisor has heavy bags under his eyes.
Then again, all the managers tasked with combing through yesterday’s applicants look like they haven’t slept much.
But Chester has handed over his seasonal hire lists for the facilities without question, as if happy to be rid of it.
“Do you have a list for me?” I ask calmly.
“I can cc you on the email when I send it to Mike.” A smarmy, counterfeit smile curves his lips. “Listen, Ronan, I’ve gone through this process a dozen times. I know what makes a good employee.”
And you have no fucking clue. He doesn’t have to say the quiet part out loud. Everyone in this room can hear it, and they’re exchanging furtive, knowing glances.
I steal a peek at Belinda to read her expression, but her attention is on me, her eyebrows arched in a bemused Now what are you going to do? way.
“I personally reviewed each applicant forwarded up the chain. Everyone has adequate experience and can start immediately. I’m confident my people have built a solid team.”
No shit he’s confident. And patronizing and bitter. The guy who wants my job has been eyeballing me since I stepped inside this meeting room, and now he’s throwing around words like “my people” and holding on to that list like fucking Gollum with his precious ring.
A soft cough is the only sound in the room.
Dorian’s waiting for the twenty-six-year-old out of his league to bob his head and agree.
I might have done that, too, if I didn’t have an ulterior motive, because the truth is, it’s just a bunch of names to me.
That would have been a colossal mistake.
Belinda’s advice has settled in the forefront of my mind, and I can’t shake it.
What would Henry do if one of his managers pulled his dick out in a meeting to compare sizes? Because that’s what this feels like, and I don’t like it.
Would Henry point out the chunk of muffin caught in this fuckhead’s bushy mustache? No, he has too much class for that.
I clear my throat—mostly to compose myself—and keep my gaze locked on him as I ask, “Belinda, has there been a change in the management structure overnight?”
“There has not, and I believe I would be the first to know.”
“And, as the director, I still make the final decision on all opening hires under my departments? ”
“That is correct.” I could be wrong, but I detect the slightest hint of humor in her voice.
“Perfect. Dorian, I’ll have that list now.”
With pursed lips, he digs it out from a folder and shoves it across the table. The asshole had a hard copy all along. There was no need for that pissing contest.
I ignore everyone and scan it quietly, searching for the names I memorized.
There they are, near the top. Mick Wallen and Will Moore, placed in outdoor crew positions. Flipping the page, I quickly find Ron Schultz as well. Surprise, fucking surprise.
Grabbing a pen, I draw lines through their names. “These three aren’t good options for Wolf.”
Dorian glares at my markups before shifting an incredulous expression to me. “Can I ask why not?”
“No.” Henry wouldn’t explain himself.
“But those are three solid hires,” he argues.
“I know for a fact they’re not, so do I need to question every name on here, seeing as you were so sure you’ve built a solid team?”
“No,” he mutters.
Silence hangs in the room.
“Do we have what we need, then?” Belinda asks after a beat.
“I do,” Lena confirms, nodding to her various managers. “Thank you.”