42. Sloane #3
“Belinda,” he says simply, wandering back to set his laptop on the granite counter.
With a few clicks, he has a spreadsheet open.
“Here’s everyone we’re hiring under my department.
I also got hold of the other director’s list so you can scan that one too.
I don’t have time to go through everyone’s résumés to see if they’ve listed Sea Witch, so let me know if we’re poaching any more of your staff.
” He slides onto one of the high-back stools and nudges the computer over slightly.
“Isn’t this, like, confidential company information?” I muse, edging in, acutely aware of his splayed thighs as he leans back in the seat, resting an elbow on the counter, the tattoos on his corded forearm on display.
I doubt a guy could radiate masculinity more if he tried—and nothing about Ronan says he’s trying .
“It is. I could get in a lot of trouble for showing you.”
“Then why are you showing me?”
His forehead furrows. “Contrary to what you think, we don’t want to screw over local businesses. At least, I don’t.”
“And are you going around to all the local businesses, showing them this list?”
“What do you think, Sloane?” He studies me, not his screen, an intent expression taking over his face.
God, I love his gravelly voice, the way he says my name.
“Honestly, I don’t know what to think where you’re concerned,” I admit. Except that he wants to keep this professional. I take a deep breath and, before I embarrass myself—again—force my focus to the spreadsheet, scrolling through the names. I stall on Will and Mick.
“They’ve been disapproved.” Ronan taps the screen on the column labeled Director’s Approval heading. No is marked beside their names. “They were near the top too. The list is ranked.”
And now they’re crossed off because Ronan is doing me a favor. The tinge of guilt flares. “Is this wrong?”
“No.” He doesn’t miss a beat, and I appreciate his certainty. It helps quell some of my anxiety.
I keep going down the list. My attention snags on another familiar name. “Are you kidding me? Brock too?”
Ronan leans forward to read his screen, bringing him closer to me. “Where?”
“There.” I tap the name. “He works my rentals with the other guys.” A crew that is dwindling quickly. But we have Rolland now , I remind myself. A scrawny kid who will have to work twice as hard to keep up and will likely quit by the end of the weekend.
Ronan slips his index fingertip over the mouse pad, guiding the cursor to the approval column and ticks off no next to Brock .
“Just like that.”
“See this list here?” He flips to another tab. “These are all alternates. We can pull from there. We have options.”
“But then you won’t have the best people for the job.”
“They’re outdoor crew. There’s leeway with that job. Trust me, I know.” He smirks. “Losing these people won’t hurt Wolf, but it will hurt you.” His eyes drift over my lips before meeting my gaze again. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
My pulse races. Does he realize the effect he has on me when he says things like that? When he looks at me like that ?
Ronan breaks the eye lock first, returning his focus to his computer. He opens his email and clicks on a link to another spreadsheet. “This is Lena’s side. She’s responsible for all the restaurants, housekeeping, and entertainment.”
“That’s a lot.”
“It is, but she’s a pro.” He stalls on a tab that reads Aquarius . “I’m assuming none of your staff moonlight as mermaids?”
My eyebrows arch. I saw the giant tropical tank featured on the Wolf’s website. “That was real? You’re actually going to have people swimming around in mermaid costumes?”
“Apparently. But they’re not hired through this process. They train.”
I frown. “Where do you train for that?”
“The fuck if I know. Mermaid school.” He clicks over to a tab marked Seraphina’s .
My heart sinks when I see Jeremy’s name at the top. There’s a note in the comments section next to his name. “Part time, two days a week, evenings only?” I read out loud.
“I got Lena to agree to that. The hours shouldn’t conflict. That way he can keep doing what he does for you?—”
“But I told you to leave him off the hit list.” I can’t help my sharp tone.
“He’ll get his foot in the door, make some good cash, and then he’ll get hired full time in the fall. But you still have him for the next few months.” He pauses. “It’s my choice, Sloane, not yours.”
He’s only doing it for me, and we both know it. But his choice means I only have to hire two new captains, rather than three. As much as I don’t like it, I need this right now. I skim the page, noting Cody’s name. “He is a cockroach,” I scoff, but then I note the X in the “not approved” box.
“Told you it’s handy having me as a friend.”
I can’t stifle my smile of satisfaction, even as I counter, “He’s a thief. You did that for the hotel, not for me.”
“I did it for the hotel and for you.”
“Why?” I’m close enough that I can pick out the flecks of gold in his irises.
He studies me as acutely. “Because that’s what friends do.” He taps the counter with his finger. “Anyone else?”
I skim the rest of the list and stall on another name. “Amanda Seymour.”
“One of yours?”
“Yeah, she works in the coffee shop. Frank just finished training her.”
“I’ll tell Lena to cut her when I get back.” Ronan’s hand moves for the laptop cursor.
“No, don’t.” Without thought, I grab his hand to stall it. For just a split second, I revel in the feel of his calloused, strong fingers, and then I release him.
“You sure?” If he’s bothered by the instinctual move, he doesn’t let on.
“She’s only been there a few weeks and, to be honest, she’s struggling.”
“If that was her there this morning, then, yeah. She is.”
“That’s right. You came by the Sea Witch too. You were really trying to get hold of me, huh?”
“Yeah, but not about this. I—” His jaw tenses. “Wanted to check in, after yesterday. Make sure you weren’t sewing a doll in my name to stab with pins.”
“I don’t sew.” My tone is suddenly clipped, but the last thing I want to do is relive yesterday’s lapse in judgment. “I can cover Amanda’s shifts easily enough,” I say, pulling the topic back to safer waters. After a beat, I add, “Thanks, though, for looking out for me.”
“You can thank me by taking down every last one of those signs by Monday morning. I guarantee you Belinda will be checking.”
“Right.” Those. The whole reason Ronan’s helping me in the first place. Because this is a professional arrangement, even though he keeps throwing around this friends word. “You told her about this?”
“Barely. She doesn’t know the details. If she did, she would have hired all of your workers.”
“I guess I’ve earned a few enemies over there.
” I’ve never met this Belinda. For all the council meetings I attended and pots I’ve stirred over the years in the name of Wolf Hotels, I’ve never met anyone high up in the food chain.
Not William Wolf when he was alive or Henry Wolf when he took over.
They never bothered to show their faces, always sending representatives instead.
Not like the location in Alaska that Henry Wolf personally oversaw, according to the papers.
All that tells me is that Mermaid Beach is nothing more than an acquisition, a cog in the wheel of their empire.
But this place is everything to me.
Ronan seems to understand that. It’s the only way I can explain his kindness.
He moves to shut his computer.
“Wait. Flip back to that first list for a minute?”
With a curious frown, he pulls it up.
“Him.” I tap the line that lists Rick Reynolds.
“We call him Rick the Dick. He worked for us a few years ago. He intentionally injured himself and then tried to sue, but he didn’t know there were cameras on him.
It all got dismissed. But he’s a huge scammer.
Everyone around here knows about him. He’s probably using his brother-in-law as a reference, but whatever they say will be bullshit.
The guy hasn’t worked an honest day in his life. ”
A slow smile spreads across Ronan’s lips. “You saw his name and were going to let me hire him.”
I shrug. “I’ve changed my mind.”
With quick movements, Ronan strikes him off the list and types into the notes, “A.k.a. Rick the Dick. Scammer. Litigious.”
“You can’t write that.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Should I be worried about the others?”
“Let me see.” I read through the rest of the names on the various tabs, acutely aware of the heat radiating off Ronan’s body and the smell of him, and the way I’m tucked up against my kitchen counter and his thigh has settled in behind me. Almos t touching me.
So many of these people aren’t familiar, but that’s the nature of Mermaid Beach as it grows.
It used to be that if you didn’t know them, you could guarantee there was only one degree of separation.
“Alvaro and Jose Perez have worked at The Sunken Ship for years.” A kitschy tourist-trap restaurant.
“Super hard workers. Honest guys.” The Sea Witch gives discounts to local industry workers and every year, those two bring their families out for a day cruise around Starfish Island.
I know the owner of The Sunken Ship, and I don’t particularly like him. They’d do well to leave.
“So, are you saying we should keep them?” Ronan’s question cuts into my thoughts.
“Yeah, they’re great. Alvaro would make a good supervisor.” An impish spark hits me then. “Actually, on second thought, you don’t want these guys. I forgot. They don’t work weekends and …” I scramble for another excuse. “They have serious hygiene issues.”
Ronan’s eyes narrow. “You want to hire them for the Sea Witch, don’t you?”
“ Never .” I fight to school my expression, my laughter threatening. I’ve offered them jobs before—they’d be a great addition to the beach crew—but they like the kitchen. I’m sure they’re angling for permanent full-time at Wolf.