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‘His account,’ Lazzaro snapped, clearly expecting that with a few rapid clicks Caitlyn should bring up the necessary page. But his impatience only unsettled her more.
The cursor wobbled on screen as suddenly he was behind her, standing over her, his hand hovering to take the computer mouse—effectively dismissing her efforts. She should have stepped back—only he was behind her. She should have moved her hand to let him take over—only his was above hers.
Perhaps it was the prospect of physical contact with him, perhaps it was nerves, or an impossible combination of both, but at that second precisely her hope for a glowing reference from the Ranaldi Hotel for her work experience melted away as rapidly as Caitlyn clicked the mouse—not once, not twice, but as if her finger had suddenly developed a nervous twitch. She repeatedly tapped away—panic rising as she deleted Lazzaro Ranaldi’s number-one guest’s entire financial history before his very eyes. He should step in, Caitlyn thought, frantically hitting the back arrow, sweat trickling between her breasts as his hand still hovered. His breath was on the back of her burning neck as an unfamiliar system command popped on screen, to taunt her.
Put Susan to Bed.
What?
Oh—she should have pressed cancel. As soon as she tapped okay, Caitlyn recalled the meaning of the strange prompt—that she really didn’t want the computer system to shut down on the day, that she really, really didn’t want to do the one single thing Glynn had told her she must never, ever do. But as the screen went black, Caitlyn knew that Susan wasn’t just in bed, she was snoring her head off and completely unrousable as somewhere in the system she tallied and recorded the day’s figures and guests’ comings and goings.
Caitlyn never swore—well, never in front of her boss—but her curse was out before she could stop it. Glynn’s alarmed expression told her that her frantic whisper had reached his ears.
‘Everything okay?’ Glynn checked nervously, from the other side of the desk, and Caitlyn looked up to face the lesser of two evils but Glynn’s visible terror at her horrified expression held nothing that could console her. ‘Everything is okay, isn’t it?’ he hissed.
‘There seems to be a problem with the system.’ Caitlyn attempted a calm voice, only her mouth seemed to belong to someone who had just stepped out of the dentist’s after having a root canal procedure. Her lips struggled to form the words, her finger was still tapping away, but her whole body was absolutely rigid. She was wishing that she’d gone home when she could have—when she should have.
‘What the hell do you mean?’ Glynn snapped, moving to race his way around the counter. ‘A problem with the system? What on earth have you done, Caitlyn?’
Ended her career before it had even started, probably, Caitlyn thought with dread. Lazzaro Ranaldi’s temper was legendary amongst the staff—and something she’d never wanted to witness, particularly aimed at herself. Bracing herself for his caustic tongue, for a few choice expletives to fill the lavish reception area as he told her exactly what he thought of her computer skills, of her woeful inadequacy to work for such an exclusive hotel, bravely—stupidly, perhaps—Caitlyn lifted her head and craned her neck to face him.
Her terrified expression turned to one of bemusement as she saw that the eyes that met hers weren’t hostile at all. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, there was just the hint of a smile playing on the edge of his mouth.
‘It’s fine, Glynn.’ With one perfectly manicured hand he halted his manager’s progress. ‘You have guests to attend to.’ Lazzaro’s eyes fell on a rather affectionate couple at the desk, who really should get a room as quickly as possible. ‘As Caitlyn said, there is a small problem with the system—nothing I can’t sort.’
Was there really a problem with the system? Caitlyn wondered hopefully as Glynn went to sort out the couple, her eyes darting back to the now flickering screen of the computer.
‘Nothing that can’t be fixed…’He was leaning right over her now, as she stood frozen to the spot—and not just her feet. Caitlyn’s hand was still clutching the mouse like a frozen claw. Her throat tightened as his warm hand closed around hers, guiding it up to the little red arrow at the top and closing the programme—something Caitlyn was sure, positive in fact, that you shouldn’t do. Her heart was thumping in her chest as he removed his hand—she should really step aside. Only she didn’t. In fact, still she stood there, as his hands came around either side of her waist and moved to the keyboard. Her heart leapt up into her mouth as, without a single mistake, he calmly logged in and with impressive speed typed in the necessary details to retrieve Gus Dalton’s information.
