16. Jess
Acouple of days before the charity event, I have a meeting scheduled with Emma Simpson from the front desk. She appears worried, which is out of character for the peppy young woman. It immediately causes me concern, and I offer her the seat across from me.
“Everything okay?” I ask, noticing her eyes dart in the direction of Sean’s office, which is empty. “Don’t worry about Mr. Blackwood. He won’t be in for a while. You can talk freely.”
“I don’t want to ruffle any feathers or cause any trouble, you know,” Emma explains.
Her comment puts me on red alert and my back straightens as I lean forward. “I would never think that’s what you’re doing. I’ve known you long enough, Emma, to know you’re not that kind of person. Now, what’s going on, what’s wrong?”
“Ms. Summers, I do apologize. It’s just that there have been some rumors circulating…”
My heart plummets to my stomach, and my skin suddenly feels warm. There’s no way, absolutely no way anyone at the hotel knows what’s happened between me and Sean, except for Pauline. And she’s not one to gossip, when it comes to stuff we share in confidence.
Have they noticed our glances, or heaven forbid, did some eagle-eyed observer witness our kiss?
“What…sort of rumors?” I ask, hoping my tone sounds as neutral and innocent as I mean it to. I’m sure the redness has already spread across my face.
“People are saying that Mr. Blackwood has a habit of buying up these properties and then replacing the staff with his own people. A lot of us are concerned that with all these changes, our jobs might be for the chop.”
I relax, grateful the rumors have nothing to do with our fake kiss. But I’m deeply troubled that my employees are scared and none of them have come to talk to me about it until now. It’s been almost two weeks, and I highly doubt these are new concerns. “Emma, please believe me when I tell you this: no one’s jobs are on the line.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Nobody is going to get fired without me knowing or without my approval.”
She smiles and seems to relax as well. “I hoped that would be the case, but it’s reassuring to hear you say it.”
“You guys know my door is always open. That hasn’t changed just because Norman isn’t here anymore.”
“Oh, I know that, thank you. It’s just that Mr. Blackwood is usually next door, and it feels a bit awkward coming to talk to you and asking for privacy.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Thank you, Ms. Summers. Honestly, I feel much better just for having had this chat. How are you managing in all this, by the way? If it’s overwhelming for us, I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”
I appreciate her concern.
She’s right.
This is a significant undertaking for me, and everyone involved. But I’m not going to let her see how it’s getting to me. “I’m doing what needs to be done. Don’t worry about me, Emma,” I assure her, giving her a warm smile, and a cheeky wink. “I can handle Mr. Blackwood.”
Rising from her chair, Emma shoots me a grin. “Oh, I don’t doubt that at all. You’re one of the nicest bosses I’ve ever had. But I’ve also seen what happens to that pleasant exterior when people cross you… and I’d rather not be in that position. Have a lovely day, Ms. Summers.”
I grin back. “You too, Emma.”
She exits my office and I sit there for a moment, processing what she told me. For once, my usual calm demeanor is difficult to maintain. My staff is worried, not just because of the overhaul and the time to get used to the new adjustments, likely more so because they sense my inner turmoil. People don’t like change, especially if it’s a change that basically turns everything upside down. It’s a lot to take in and, despite what Sean thinks, I’m not going to change the way I work and interact with them.
That’s the one thing I will never compromise on.
I get back to work, wishing Sean was the only man giving me grief. We’re all hands on deck, preparing for the upcoming corporate retreat with Schuster and Flint. The repeated calls from Mr. Grant, the group’s new event coordinator—a rather difficult and hard-to-please character—are also putting me on edge. Oh, how I miss handling everything with the now-retired Mr. Schuster. I try to be friendly, but Mr. Grant certainly has a knack for testing my patience.
Half an hour later, as soon as Sean walks by my office, I spin my chair to look at him.
“Please come in and close the door, Sean,” I tell him, with absolutely no charm in my voice. I’m dead serious. “We need to talk.”
Sean raises his eyebrow, since I prefer to leave the door open (a point we have argued back and forth repeatedly). He does as I say, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“Is this about tomorrow’s charity event?” He closes the door, then turns to face me. “Or about what I can offer for your half of the hotels?”
“You wish. It’s more serious than that.” I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself and not let him see how worked up I am. “There seem to be some misconceptions about the hotel’s future.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
He stands there, in the middle of my office, hands casually in his pockets. “Didn’t we discuss all this at the conference meeting?”
“I was just speaking with one of my employees, and they told me everybody is worried about losing their jobs.” I’m careful not to mention Emma’s name to avoid any retaliation on Sean’s part.
He has the nerve to roll his eyes. “That’s it? I thought it was something serious.”
My temper flares. “It is serious to me! Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing.”
“If I’m brushing it off it’s because it is nothing. I’m too busy to deal with staff drama. Staff is replaceable. If this person is going to come running to you every time she hears stupid rumors, then maybe we should think about that person’s future here.”
“Staff is replaceable? Isn’t that what Blackwood is renowned for? Taking over and letting go of staff?”
His facial expression darkens considerably. The shadows carve deep lines of menace across his features, a brooding intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. He shakes his head, growling, “Not under my leadership.”
I try to steady my heartbeat. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Not unless absolutely necessary. You have the wrong impression of me. Not everything you hear or read in the press is true,” he assures me, his gaze still dark. “I value our team.”
There’s something in his sincere tone that immediately puts me at ease. For some reason, I find myself believing him, trusting his words.
He’s not that good an actor.
“Can I get that in writing?” I tease (but not really).
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asks, ignoring my question, and instead, jerking his chin toward the charity auction ticket still proudly displayed on my desk.
Happiness surges within me when I pick it up.
“I am. I’ve picked a stunning cocktail dress and shoes. I have an appointment at the hair salon tomorrow afternoon. Do we still plan to arrive fashionably late and make a quick exit?”
“That’s the plan. We’ll show face, scope out the drawing, and make our exit with it.” He nods. “In and out.”
I smirk, liking the notion. “A heist at a charity event. I’m in.” I relax in my seat, confident in our plan to navigate the event and sidestep unnecessary encounters with Richard. “What time are we leaving? It’s starting at 6:00 p.m.”
“Events like this never start punctually. I’ll pick you up. Be ready at six sharp.”
“Perfect! We’ll arrive just in time for the auction.”
“Timing is everything in this game.”
“Anything else we should discuss?” I ask, putting the ticket in my purse. There will be enough time to cover any last-minute details on the ride over, to align our answers just in case we get busted, but when it comes to fooling Richard, there’s nothing like overpreparing.
“What about what’s happening between us?”
My head shoots up and I almost drop my purse. He’s talking about the kiss. The real fake kiss. It catches me off guard that he’s mentioning it. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“You know what I mean.”
“Nothing is happening,” I insist.
“Are you really going to look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t feel anything, that it was just for show?”
“When?” I ask.
“You know when,” he huffs. “In the Presidential Suite.”
“Maybe you’re the one feeling something.”
“Smooth deflection.”
I know I shouldn’t have kissed him—be it a pretend kiss or a genuine one. I’ve never encountered a man who stirs such a whirlwind of mixed emotions within me.
I don’t know whether I want to tell him this meeting is done or get up and yank on his suit jacket and pull him against me. At least it would shut him up for a moment.
Luckily, I don’t have to make the decision.
Before I can make up my mind on what to say next, he’s gone.