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Gregory smiles. “I like the sound of that.”
I grab the chair in front of me and sit, followed in short order by Gregory. Beau sits too, grabbing his clipboard and a pen.
He motions to me. “Floor is yours, brother.”
“Gregory, feel free to jump in whenever. I only speak for myself, but I’m open to hearing your demands too,” I say.
Gregory’s smile grows. “You do own the resort, so I’d say that’s fair. I’m also pretty flexible at this point, so why don’t you start, and we can go from there?”
“Great. For starters, I want to work five days a week, max. I’m at my best when I have dedicated time off. It doesn’t have to be weekends, but I would like two consecutive days off. On the days I’m here, I walk through the door at nine, and I walk back out at five.”
Beau’s scribbling furiously. “Got it. What about this? Monday and Tuesday off, Wednesday through Sunday on? Fridays and Sundays are our obviously busiest days with the most check-ins and check-outs, so that way, you’re here for the rush, but you get a nice break immediately afterward.”
“Can you work Mondays and Tuesdays?” I ask Gregory.
He nods. “Absolutely.”
“Great. That’s done.”
“What else?” Beau asks.
“We increase my staff. I want another doorman, plus another assistant.” I glance at Gregory. “You haven’t been officially promoted yet, right?”
“Not yet.”
“Great. Let’s go ahead and promote Gregory to VP. I think having another layer of management there will help tremendously, especially as he’s had a lot of hands-on experience.”
Gregory beams. “Thank you, Hank.”
“Thank you for stepping up to the plate when I needed you. It’s the least I can do.”
Beau nods. “Okay. I think we can swing that.”
“I also want to bring back the bonfires,” I say.
“The bonfires?” Beau grins, scribbling again. “You wanna whip out ‘Wheels on the Bus’ again?”
“Sure do.” I lean back in my chair. “But really, I miss playing and performing. It makes me happy. I want to start hosting the bonfires again so I have an excuse to eat s’mores and sing.”
Beau ducks his lips. “Fine by me. We’ve had a lot of returning guests ask about the bonfires, actually. It just didn’t feel right having them without you.”
There’s a warm nudge against my breastbone. “I am quite the attraction.”
“Shut up. How’s this bonfire thing going to work with your nine to five?” Beau flips his hat off and runs a hand through his hair. “If memory serves, we ran it from, what, six to nine on Friday nights?”
I nod. “I thought about that. I considered coming in later on Friday mornings—”
“On check-in day?” Beau makes a face as he puts his hat back on.
I hold up a hand. “I got you. I considered it but realized it wouldn’t work for exactly that reason. What if I worked longer Fridays in exchange for an afternoon off? Say, Wednesday afternoons, if Gregory can cover for me?”
“I can do that,” Gregory says.
“Fine by me too,” Beau adds, “as long as no one misses a beat.”
“I won’t because I’ll have another assistant, remember?”
“How could I forget? I’m the one paying his salary.”
I grin. “So generous.”
“What else?”
Sucking in a breath, I think of how to ask for the last item on my list. Probably best to just come out with it. “Would Maisie be interested in taking music classes?”
Beau’s eyebrows shoot up. “She’s taken them before, yeah. Why?”
“I noticed how much she loved our music the other night. I thought—I dunno, maybe on my Wednesday afternoons I could play some tunes with her. For her. We could play together, and I could teach her how to play the guitar and . . . stuff.”
“Hank, she’s one.”
“Well, yeah, okay, maybe teaching her to play guitar is a little ambitious. But I still think it could be fun. I’ll hang out with her and, like, sing or whatever.”
Beau’s grinning at me. So is Gregory.
“What?” I ask, face starting to feel warm again.
“Just promise me Stevie’ll wait till Maisie’s eighteen to teach her how to twerk, all right?”
I manage to laugh even as a knife lodges itself in the center of my chest. Beau’s thinking long term about Stevie. Which reminds me that I’ve thought long term about her too. How fun would it be to have music lessons with her and Maisie? She was so good with the baby.
She was so good with everyone.
But just because Stevie’s good with kids doesn’t mean she should have one of her own.
Just because she’s great with my family doesn’t mean she should be a part of it.
Goddamn, though, she’d fit in just right.
Everything about her felt just right.
“I promise,” I say and slip my phone out of my pocket to check it. A dozen texts, a few missed calls, lots of emails. None of them from Stevie.
I can’t get it through my thick skull that she isn’t going to contact me ever again. We had a great time, and now we’re done.
