10. Sebastian
I’m in a pickle bigger than any of the cucumbers they sell in the hotel deli.
Mila is ten feet from me in the hotel conference room, and she’s at the rock bottom of the company hierarchy. She’s an intern. Ten years younger than me. And I control whether she works here another day.
But all I can think about is her naked body under mine.
“Sebastian? What do you think?” Raya’s been talking the whole time, and I’ve completely lost the thread of the conversation.
I’m good at the smile-and-nod when Raya’s around. She’s a complainer, and I’m not here for the angst.
“I think we should get a snack,” I say.
She huffs in annoyance. “Go on, then. You’ve never seen a buffet you haven’t plundered.”
If only she knew what else in this room I’ve plundered.
I head for the serving table, allowing myself only the barest of glances in Mila’s direction. She’s talking to Havannah. She looks nervous and excited. Havannah is patiently nodding, a bemused expression on her face.
Maverick stands in front of the buffet dishes, looking over the spread. “This is better than I expected.” He adds a prime rib slider to the pile on his plate. “Lobster mac. Steak on a stick.”
“Skewers,” I say before I can catch myself.
Maverick aims one at my face. “It’s a stick, ain’t it?”
“It is.” I pick up a plate and take a couple of them myself.
He sticks the skewer in his mouth and pulls off all the meat and baked brie in one big bite.
He knows better than to act like a buffoon. He’s smart and can read a room.
He’s pushing my buttons.
I have news for him. My buttons all got mashed years ago. You don’t become the head manager of a hotel like this without having a dozen people trying to tweak you every day.
Raya, though, she’s going to increasingly resent me bringing him on if he keeps this up. And then if she finds out about Mila…
This whole intern program has gotten more complicated than it should have.
Might as well eat. I fill my plate with cheese and crudités and smoked salmon on crostini. Havannah had Chef Monique pull out all stops for these interns. But, knowing her, she’ll be watching for how they react to unusual cuisine. Events will encompass culinary styles across many cultures. Interns who act like Maverick might not be trusted with taking event details for food they find unusual.
I take a bite of the crostini and feel my head swoon with the sharp flavors.
“Not a fan of the hot cheese,” Maverick says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It’s not for everybody.” I pass him a napkin. Okay, so maybe there’s a button or two that has some life to it, given that Raya is ready to pull the “I told you so” card from across the room. She hasn’t missed a thing.
Maverick wipes his face with all the panache of a toddler. “You’re fussed that I call it like I see it?”
I shrug. “I’m fussed that you seem intent on blowing an opportunity graciously dropped into your lap.”
He shoves half of a slider in his gullet and sniffs as he chews. He does at least take a moment to swallow before he says, “The way I see it, I don’t stand a snowflake’s chance in hell of becoming event manager, not with all the estrogen in the room.”
“Don’t be sexist.” I turn my back to Raya, so she can’t see my face as I get stern. “You can decide to lowball your experience here, but there are some things nobody is going to stand for, and I will not get in the way of you getting kicked out on your ass if you cross the line.”
He frowns at that.
“So cool it with your act. I know you’re smarter than that. You were raised by good people. Knock it off.”
And I’m done with him for one day.
Button mashed.
I head over to Owen, careful to skirt Mila and the sunny blonde Brooklyn, who are headed to the buffet. The other new intern, Ilsa, is speaking with Havannah.
Owen has a dreamy expression, no doubt inspired by the food.
“It’s good, right?” I say.
“Ungodly.” He turns his plate around in his hands, as if not sure where to dive in next.
“When you’re done, we have some carts ready to help you transport your things.”
“I already have it all in my room,” Owen says. “I just had the two suitcases I came with.”
That’s not much. “You’re from Oklahoma, right?”
“Born and bred. I don’t have a car here, so I only brought what I could manage on the bus.”
“We can arrange to have more shipped if you need it.”
He shrugs. “I don’t need much else.” He takes a bite from his plate, which is stacked high. He got one of everything. He seems to be forcing himself to slow down.
He has a friendly, golden retriever look to him. Shaggy brown hair, lean. He wears khakis and a sweater, but they’ve seen better days. His shoes, too, are worn, brown loafers scuffed at the toe.
He’ll be eager to impress, I bet. He probably bootstrapped his way through college and made the most of every opportunity he got.
“Did you intern in college?” I ask.
He picks up a skewer. “I worked at a nice hotel in Norman.”
“Did you see things that could use improving?”
He gulps the bite he shoveled in while I asked the question. “Everywhere. The front desk was inefficient. They were understaffed in housekeeping and room service. Everyone was run ragged all the time.”
“And this was a good hotel?”
“It’s considered upscale for the area, but the definition of that varies based on where you are.” He glances around the staff room. “This place is unbelievable.”
“It’s got a lot of character. We don’t try to run it like a Ritz-Carlton or Four Seasons. We have a lot of families. We want to keep it Boulder friendly.”
“But you have one of the most sought-after secret suites in the world,” he says.
So he knows about it. Word is getting out.
“We do. You can only book it by talking directly to me. How did you hear of it?” I came on board only a year after the castle opened, and I personally know every person who was officially told about the secret suite since then.
“I wasn’t sure until now.” His eyes are mischievous.
He got me. “I’m glad you’re on our team, then. A nondisclosure was part of your paperwork.”
“Will any of us get to see the suite that is more rumor than fact?”
“The event manager will, for sure. Otherwise, it takes permission from Havannah to reveal its location.”
“Dang.”
Havannah approaches. “I haven’t met this young man yet.”
Owen stands a little taller. “Hello, ma’am.”
“Oh, please. It’s Havannah. You must be our Oklahoma representative.”
“I am.”
I leave them to it, turning around to find someone else to chat up.
“Oh!” Mila cries out in surprise as the edge of my plate bumps the side of her head. And…there’s Monique’s special dip in her hair, her dark strands streaked with white.
And that’s sending off all the dirty thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should look where I’m going.”
Brooklyn bites her lip, trying not to laugh. She sets her plate on a chair and wipes at Mila’s hair with a napkin.
Mila avoids looking at me as Brooklyn works.
“It’s not bad,” Brooklyn says. “And you smell like an herb garden.”
Mila’s eyebrows draw together. “Thanks for the help.”
Brooklyn heads for the trash can at the end of the buffet, leaving me and Mila alone.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “This has been quite the introduction, hasn’t it?”
Mila touches her hair. “It’s probably karma for hiding behind a potted plant.”
“This morning?” She must have been in the lobby. I didn’t look.
Her eyes cut left and right. “This is no place to talk about it.”
She’s right. “We should probably have a word later.”
“I guess.” She quickly switches topics as Brooklyn returns. “When will we find out our first rotation?”
“In the morning. We’ll meet back here and give out assignments.”
“Will all the interns be split?” Brooklyn asks.
“For some shifts, there is only one intern due to the work. The deli and the sandwich cart can’t handle a lot of extra people, for example. But sometimes, all five of you will help out, like during the donkey rotation. Jed is expecting some foals soon, and we’ll be sending you all out to help.”
“We get to take care of baby donkeys!” Brooklyn’s eyes light up.
“We thought it would be fun,” I say. “And it prevents us from having to pull anyone off the maintenance crew.”
“This is the best!” Brooklyn says.
Mila is quiet, staring at her plate. I can see I’m making her uncomfortable.
“Feel absolutely free to call on me if you run into any trouble.”
“Thank you, Sebastian!” Brooklyn says.
This is a disaster. I head to the bussing bin and drop in my plate. A night that was so perfect has morphed into a day from hell. I can’t seem to do anything right with Mila.
I turn to the room to see if I can simply escape. Everyone is occupied.
I won’t go home yet, though. I need to talk to Mila, and we should be careful about how we do it. I can’t go to her room, not with all five of the new hires on the same hall.
I’ll send a note. Maybe we can meet off site.
Of all the dumb scrapes I’ve gotten into in my thirty-two years, this one takes the cake.