41. Ronan #3
I shrug, my gaze never leaving the disgruntled Dorian. “We’ll see. Also, Dorian, Archie will book a meeting with you first thing Monday morning to discuss what we’re going to do about the drainage issue on the ninth hole.”
He frowns. “What drainage?—”
“The fucking swamp you seem to have missed.” I took a quick drive out yesterday afternoon to check if it was still there. It was.
His arrogant mask slips. No doubt he’ll jump in a golf cart the second he leaves here to prove me wrong. And when he sees that I’m not? Hopefully he’ll arrive on Monday morning with a solution already worked out.
“Okay, then. Thank you, everyone, for your hard work,” Belinda announces. “Now go and enjoy what’s left of your weekend.” Her clawed hand settles on my shoulder, a silent message to stay seated.
I note Lena isn’t getting up either. The department managers hurry to get away, as if lingering might get them assigned more work.
“Minnie has sent both of you links to the database that includes all recommended hires. The interview recordings are there, but given timing, I would trust your managers?—”
“I don’t,” I blurt. Dorian has rubbed me the wrong way. My petty side rarely makes an appearance, but when it does, it’s highly motivated. I will check every single name on this list just to say I did.
“We don’t have a lot of wiggle room, Ronan,” Belinda says with forced patience, her hips swinging as she parades around the table. “The sooner HR can verify references and?—”
“Is this my department to run?” I respond with a measured tone.
“It is, but?—”
“Then I’m going to review these hires until I feel confident in Dorian’s choices.”
She inhales sharply, her eyes flaring.
I brace myself for a tongue-lashing to put me in my place.
“As long as next week’s training sessions aren’t delayed.”
I falter, not expecting her to roll over so easily. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Belinda pauses to size me up, her gaze trailing over the open collar of my shirt, down to my splayed thighs. Either she wants to climb onto my lap or stab me in the groin with her pen. “If there’s nothing else … ”
“There is.” I’m feeling ballsy today. I turn to Lena. “Do you have a Jeremy Smith in your pile?”
Lena checks her spreadsheet. “I do. He’s at the very top. In bar service.” She pushes her auburn hair off her forehead and then settles wary golden brown eyes on me. “Why?”
Sloane wanted to leave him off the hit list, but I can’t ignore how these guys are willing to royally fuck her over. “I need you to hire him part time. Two nights a week, max.” Just enough that he can’t afford to quit his day job.
“Are you for real?” She glances up at Belinda before staring at me like I’ve failed at singing the alphabet. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m asking you to.”
With a doubtful frown, she rescans the page. “Debbie put him at the top of the list for Seraphina’s, which means he impressed her.”
The upscale open-air bar on the water, which, from what Belinda said, is expected to be crammed every night with both hotel guests but also visitors hoping to snag a cocktail reservation.
“I’m not surprised.” Everyone seems to love this Jeremy, including Sloane.
“Tell him you’ll give him full-time permanent at the end of the season.
But, for this summer, I need you to limit his hours. ”
Her fingers drum with annoyance over the desk surface, the diamonds on her wedding band sparkling under the fluorescent light. “That might have worked on Dorian, but like you get final say, so do I.”
“This request comes directly from Henry Wolf,” I lie.
Belinda’s eyes bore into my face from across the table, but I ignore her.
The name drop had the intended effect. Lena’s back stiffens.
As far as she knows, Henry is at the top of my Favorites list on my phone.
He’s not, but his wife is, below my parents and my sister.
“Part-time hours, even though we have a strict requirement that seasonal employees must be available full- time. Got it.” She scribbles next to Jeremy’s name while shooting me an unhappy frown.
Mention of bartending reminded me of something else. “What about a guy named Cody? Is he there too?”
Her eyes skim the list and then she sighs heavily. “ Seriously ? Are you going to tell me I can’t hire him either?”
I smirk. “Do what you want with that one, but you should know he was fired from a local bar for giving out shots to get dates with pretty women. I doubt he admitted to that in his interview, and I can tell you for a fact Wolf takes that shit seriously. Considers it theft.” My friend Rachel got fired for it at Wolf Cove in Alaska until Abbi stepped in and managed to sweet-talk Henry into rehiring her.
With a groan, Lena strikes out Cody’s name with her red marker and then collects her things and marches off.
Leaving me alone with Belinda.
“I think I may have created a monster,” she muses, though there is no humor in her voice.
“How so?”
“When I said to be like Henry, I didn’t expect such a remarkable impression.”
“Too arrogant for your liking?”
Her lips part, but she stalls. “I didn’t realize how well you knew him.”
“I don’t know him well.” I rise with a leisurely stretch. “I know his wife really well, though.”
Something unreadable dances in Belinda’s gaze. She’s worked with Henry for decades and I don’t doubt they fucked around in the past. She must know there’s some truth to those scandalous headlines. “Careful how you wield Henry’s name. It might burn you in the end.”
“Just watching out for his best interests.” Will she tell him? Will he care?
“I would focus on your own interests. The next few weeks are going to be overwhelming, and if you don’t want to look stupid in front of Dorian and Lena and, well, everyone , I would spend every minute of that time learning how to do your job.”
Her reminder settles over my shoulders like a cinder block. “On that note, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”
“Those signs better be down by Monday morning.”
“They will be.” I sound far more confident than I feel. Will Sloane hold up her end of the deal after how we left things?
“And I want that final list in to HR by 1:00 p.m.!” she hollers at my retreating back as I march toward my office.
“… I want to work at the Wolf Hotel because I know it’s a great company with strong values and?—”
I click the mouse to end the monotonous drone.
I’ve heard the same bland script in all ten interviews.
Hell, I probably said the same bland crap when I applied to Wolf.
This is stupid. It’s not humanely possible for me to get through this entire list by one.
It’s already almost 11:00 a.m. I have no choice; I have to trust my managers’ work.
I scan the pages again, wondering if any more of them are Sloane’s. I really shouldn’t care—if they want to leave the Sea Witch and work here, that’s their business. I know this, and yet I can’t help the urge to ferret them out for culling.
Hit with an impulsive idea, I leave my office and head down to the pit.
The place is buzzing, with more than half the staff here. When Belinda said it’s all hands on deck this weekend, she wasn’t kidding.
Archie’s crop of red hair peeks out from his cubicle.
I lean over the wall and mock hiss, “Dude, what the fuck are you doing here on a Saturday?”
He jumps, throwing his phone in the air as he spins around in his chair, his eyes wide with shock. “I was just … uh …”
“Playing Candy Crush. I don’t give a shit, man. Honestly.” I made Connor a supervisor, and he takes three breaks a day to jerk off in the restroom stall.
Archie’s sheepish smile emerges. “As soon as you approve those hires, I’ll be helping them call references and?—”
“Okay, got it. Get my ass in gear, is what you’re saying.” The sooner Archie understands I’m not like regular stuffy managers, the better.
His smile widens. “Sort of.”
Enough with the small talk. “Where is Lena’s assistant?”
“Mandy? She’s three cubes over.”
“Perfect. Thanks. Also, people still play that fucking game?” I take off before he has a chance to answer, counting the spaces until I find one with a young, pretty brunette. “Mandy?”
She peers up at me. “Yes, sir?”
Fuck me . People need to stop calling me sir, and especially twenty-something-year-olds who look like Mandy. “Can you email me the link to the hiring list for Lena’s departments? I need to run it by someone.”
“Uh … Yeah, I guess?” Her brow pinches with confusion. She’s probably thinking it’s an odd request, but she’s not going to question it.
“It’s Ronan Lyle. My email should pop up as soon as you start typing.”
“Yeah, I know who you are.” Her cheeks pink up as her long nails clack over her keyboard. “Okay. Sent. Anything else?” She bats her eyelashes at me.
Old Ronan would get into a lot of trouble in this role.
This version? He’ll likely still fuck everything up, but when he does, it’ll be for one specific woman.
I head back to my office and fish out the Sea Witch business card from my wallet.