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Brodie
Damn if that Nara wasn’t one tough customer.
If I hadn’t been unable to stop thinking about her gorgeous face, long legs, brains, and smart-ass attitude, I might have thrown in the towel by then.
What was it about her? I mean, she was beautiful and classy, sure. Ambitious, too. And she didn’t give a shit about my money. But what really got to me was that she wasmaking me work for it.
And that was something new.
I was trying to head out of work early on a Friday afternoon, unusual for me.
Weekends were the cash cows of the hotel business, and I’d normally be busting my ass, making sure everything was in place for the next three days of craziness. Not that we weren’t busy during the week, it’s just that things were calmer…and slower. Weekday guests were normally here for business.
But weekend guests were here for pleasure, and they had an entirely different set of expectations. Everything had to be fucking perfect.
And it nearly always was.
I hadn’t been in touch with my conniving business partners since I’d found out about their plan to screw me over. I was still thinking through the best way to handle things. But my ass was chapped that those fuckers even thought for one moment they could take away the hotel my dad built from the ground up.
“Dalt,” I said, calling my brother in Sausalito.
“Yo, Bro. What’s up?”
I heard seagulls in the background. Living the California life. Fucker.
“Dude. I got a story for you. Do you have some time?”
“Sure. I just finished cleaning my brushes.”
I pictured him taking a seat on the old beat up couch in his studio, bright sunlight shining everywhere, a nice ocean breeze blowing through…
I sat. “So, I got this weird piece of mail last week.”
I shared the whole story of how I’d accidentally discovered my business partners’ meeting with a law firm to discuss breaking up the HWE partnership.
“Holy shit,” he said. “Can they even do that?”
“It looks like they can.” I shared with him the conversation I’d had with my attorney Joe. Talking about it left me with a grinding burn in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t experienced anything like it since my dad’s trial.
“So what are you gonna do?” he asked.
I sucked in my breath. “Dunno yet. I’m trying to think it through calmly. Maybe find a way to surprise them. I have a few ideas brewing.”
“Okay. I’ll get you in touch with those new investors soon. That should open up some options,” he said.
“Thanks, Dalt. I know I can always count on your support.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said.
He was right.
* * *
On my way through the hotel lobby, the receptionist, Sonya, eyed me.
Since I’d rebuffed her, she’d mostly ignored me, but in an effort to keep her from feeling uncomfortable, I’d gone out of my way to be friendly. I walked over to her after she helped the last guest in line. Scott, the other staff member on the desk, nodded and went back to his work.
“Sonya, how has your day been?”
She looked surprised. Still pissed, perhaps.
“Very good, Mr. Harcourt. And yours?” She smiled, but there was something hard behind her eyes. Had she thought something would come of our little encounters?
I was a freaking idiot. Would I ever learn?
I leaned toward her and said in a lowered voice, “I hope you’ve been well. Again, I’m sorry we couldn’t continue what we started. I’m really sorry.”
And I was. Sort of.
I must have said something right, because I could swear her expression brightened. I looked over to see Scott watching us, but he quickly put his nose back in his computer and out of our business.
Sonya looked around and sneaked a finger across the front desk to touch my hand. “It’s okay, Mr. Harcourt. I knew it had to end some time.”
“I appreciate your understanding, Sonya. And I appreciate all your hard work.”
“You’re welcome.” She was smiling now but also looking over my shoulder. New guests were coming in. Perfect timing.
“Talk to you later,” I said.
“Yes, Mr. Harcourt. Of course.”
* * *
