Chapter 4
Chapter Four
DREW
Istand in the middle of the hallway my thoughts racing faster than a team of sled dogs trying to win the Iditarod.
Chloe Reynolds. I haven’t seen her in a few years.
I wish I’d gotten to speak to her more before she ran away.
I could’ve asked her how she’s been. Or how she’s enjoying being in Winterbrook.
But it was like my body was made of wood.
I couldn’t get my mouth to utter a single word.
I rake a hand through my damp hair and glance down at my soggy shoes. Smooth, Sullivan.
Just as I’m trying to figure out how I’m gonna see her again, a member of the hotel housekeeping team rounds the corner, pushing a cart stacked high with towels and a bright yellow “Caution: Wet Floor” sign. She takes one look at the puddle, then at me, and lets out a long sigh.
I wince, feeling guilty, even though it wasn’t my fault. “I’m sorry,” I say.
Behind her is the front desk manager. His face is filled with tight lines. “Mr. Sullivan,” he says, folding his hands in front of him. “I heard we have a situation.” His eyes travel to the puddle on the carpet, then to the half-empty aquarium, and finally to me. “What happened?”
“Minor flooding,” I mutter, gesturing toward the mess. “But don’t worry. There weren’t any fatalities.”
“I see.” He exhales slowly, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “And is there a particular reason you were handling the fish tank?”
I nod toward the aquarium, water still dribbling from one edge. “Because whoever the hotel hired to take care of it hasn’t been doing their job.”
His brows lift a fraction of an inch.
“The tank was clogged, filthy, and the fish were barely holding on. You could see the algae buildup from across the hall. I wasn’t trying to redecorate your lobby; I was just trying to help the fish survive until a new aquarium company could be called in.”
I leave out the part about Emma asking me for help.
I’m a nice older brother. I want her to keep her job.
She doesn’t need to get pulled into this.
But I do add, “It’s the kind of thing that you don’t want your guests to notice.
Especially for a five-star luxury resort that’s at capacity for the holidays. ”
Those words have the intended effect. The manager stands taller. “And you’re an expert?”
“Not exactly,” I say. “But I’ve been keeping fish tanks since I was a kid.”
He strokes his jaw. “Well, I know your family has a long history of working with the resort and that gives you certain liberties. But in the future, I’d appreciate it if you could alert the staff before attempting any more aquarium triage.”
“Yes, sir.”
He sighs and gazes at the tank. “It’s the week before Christmas. I doubt we’re going to be able to get anyone in to service this thing before the new year.”
“I could look after it. Just for a week or two.” My offer surprises both of us. I already have a long list of responsibilities to do for my parents, and now I’m adding this to it.
His brows lift slightly. “You want the job?”
“I guess so.”
The manager gives me a slow nod. “If you’re certain, I’ll have HR draw up a temporary contract. Liability and all that.”
“Of course,” I say. We shake hands just as Emma appears at the end of the hallway, looking like she’s just finished running a marathon. She skids to a stop, eyes widening at the sight of the mess.
“Drew—”
“Everything’s fine,” I say quickly, cutting her off. “Mr. Langston and I have it all worked out.”
I give her a look that I hope translates to Please don’t say you asked me to touch the tank.
“Well, if that’s all, I’ll notify HR and have them contact you about the details. Go ahead and do what you need to do with that.” He nods toward the tank. Turning to the housekeeper, he adds, “Let’s get this cleaned up before one of our guests ends up in the ER.”
“Yes, sir,” she replies, already moving toward the puddle.
Langston glances between me and Emma, then checks his watch. “I have a meeting, but if you need anything else, your sister knows how to get in touch with me.”
With that, he strides off, shoes squelching faintly.
Emma waits until he’s out of earshot before whispering, “I’m so, so sorry. Please tell me you didn’t just volunteer to clean fish poop all week.”
“Technically, I volunteered to keep the fish alive. The poop’s just part of the package.”
She groans. “I owe you. Big time.”
“You do.” And not just for the aquarium. I could’ve thrown her under the bus back there, but I didn’t. Older-brother points, earned.
“Can I buy you lunch to make up for it?”
“Sure,” I say. “I need a new set of clothes too.”
“Deal.” She nods. “I’ll meet you at the café in about an hour.”
“Sounds good.” I turn back to the tank, watching the tetra fish dart through the freshly filtered water, and try not to think too hard about my sister’s best friend.